Random Thoughts 9

This is not the first time that I have been hooked to a very long and difficult exam. This is not the first time that I stood in front of a crowd. This is not the first time that I had a rather tiresome day. But there is nothing wrong with redundantly posting things about it, right?

Si Pilemon. In one of my Tuesday classes, a teacher asked us to individually sing a song in front as a part of our lesson in Philippine Literature. Say what? I am fully aware that since birth, I am not gifted with a golden voice. But I have to do it for the sake of having a grade good enough to bring me to the brim. So there I was, singing in front of a crowded classroom the folk song "Si Pilemon." With this kind of serious demeanor, no one would expect that I would sing such song. I did it though. And thank God I did not collapse at any cost.

The Interrogation. I wrote a column last week on the undesirable trait of a teacher in our university and our Literature teacher thinks she was the one I was referring to. Well, who is who? Secret. Is she that guilty of what she did that's why she asked me such? I have to lie and I have to be brave. Anyway, the interrogation did not shake my stand on the column I wrote. I am starting to become a journalist now. Now ko pa na realize because of that interrogation, sorry! 

Head Throbs. I had two exams this week already and both were unprepared. I know how good I am at procrastinating but what confused me was the fact that every time I try to change my super ugly attitude of setting things aside for later, I just find myself doing the same act over and over again. Aside from memorizations and articles to edit, this laziness syndrome in me has continued to make my head throb.

Blessing. Well, what can you say? God is good all the time. And Kenneth just can't keep his urge of eating a free snacks all by himself. Thanks to his somewhat thick face and strong vibes toward Dr. Bernaldez, my humorous and efficient teacher in Ed 8, I had a free snacks, too.

Weak Eyes. I tried to wear glasses once but it did not suit me. First is that it was just a fashion eyeglass and second is that I really do not have bad eyes. That was before, though. Something is wrong with my sense of eyesight now. It keeps on irritating me especially when I look at the monitor for a longer period. This did not happen before. Maybe this calls for another correctional eyeglasses but I still have to observe what happens next before pushing to have eyeglasses.

It's Eerf Day Today

 

Ang sarap ng feeling na malibre. Kahit konting pamasahe lang sa motorcab (pedicab dito sa 'min), basta't not from your pocket, eh ang sarap na sa pakiramdam. Aside from that, marami pang libre ang pwede mong makuha.

Nakasabay ko lang naman ang professor ko sa Field Study who, by chance, is also from my town. After several instances na magkasabay kaming sumakay sa bus, ngayon lang talaga kami nagka seatmate. Kung hindi gaanong familiar ang teacher na ito,  s'ya lang naman 'yung gurong nagtanong kung bakit ako na late sa meeting namin sa Field Study. Kung di ka pa rin maka-relate, basahin mo na lang ang recent post ko on You Did it Again. 

She asked me the question again and I answered her back, saying that I was not aware of the time. She considered it lang naman but I know na hindi nya alam na the main reason kung bakit ako nagpa late sa meeting ay ang dahilang ayaw kong ma elect sa higher position (e.g., Vice President o Secretary). 

We had a little exchange of conversation and the time na dumating kami sa Dumaguete, she told me na ako daw ang PRO sa klase namin. Hahaha! Inapoint lang naman ako ng maganda kong titser. Binigyan talaga ako ng posisyon. Number one libre na 'yan ha. Libreng position.

When we were about to disembark from the motorcab, she gave me the key of her room and her small blue envelope sabay sabi, "You tell my students to clean the room." Isipin mo, ang daming "Yes ma'am" na lumabas sa bunganga ko. Number two libre na 'yon. Libreng bitbit.

But most of all, pagbaba ko sa sasakyan, sinabi n'yang s'ya na ang magbabayad sa pamasahe ko. Kahit 8 pesos lang 'yon, malaking bagay na ang ginawa n'ya lalo na't guro ko s'ya sa isa sa Professional Subjects ko. Lubos ang pasasalamat ko sa kanya. At dahil d'yan, I had my third libre, the Libreng pamasahe.

Sa uulitin ma'am ha! :)

Ekstwa Layts

Babala: Basahing mabuti ang sumusunod na mga kataga at piliting intindihin ang Tagalog ng taong nag post nito. Nag-aaral pa kasi sya ng Filipino sa Mababang Paaralan ng Mabini. Nasa unang baitang pa po sya pagdating sa pananagalog.

Naging maganda ang takbo ng araw ko ngayon dahil hindi ako na late sa una kong klase. Subalit ngayong maaga akong nagising at pumuntang school, ngayon pa rin lumiban ang pinakamaganda naming guro sa Ed8. Okay lang. Naiintindihan ko s'ya.

At dahil hindi sya ang dahilan kung bakit ko ginawa ang post na ito, let's change topic.

Nasa canteen kami kanina with my classmates to have our lunch. (I decided na mag Taglish na lang kasi talagang ang hirap pag straight na Tagalog lang. Mahina ako managalog. Sorry na po.) Nag-order na kami ng food ta's naghintay ng mga students na matapos ang kanilang meal. Dahil na rin siguro sa sobrang gutom, bumili ako ng pagkaing excessive sa paningin ng iba. Hindi kasi sila makapaniwala na mauubos ko ang ganon karaming pagkain kasi nga diba, payat? 

Anyway, malapit ko ng matapos ang pagkaing nakahain sa hapag ng naramdaman ko ang urge na mag second batch ng layts. Wow! Paminsan minsan lang nangyayari sa history ng tiyan ko ang ganon karaming pagkain na i-accumulate. But I really tried. Nag ekstwa layts talaga ako. Di ko na nga rin lubos maisip na makakaya ko 'yun. 

After the lunch, however, I did not feel any progress sa tiyan ko. Hindi man lang lumobo ng kahit konti man lang. Pagtayo ko, parang 'di lang ako nakakain. But sa totoo lang, busog na busog na 'ko. Ang hirap na ngang ihinga.

Okay. So ano nga ba ang ekstwa layts? Ekstwa layts is a churva language na napulot ko sa net na ang ibig sabihin lang naman ay "extra rice." Ngayong alam n'yo nah, babay na rin. Talagang ang hirap talaga mag Tagalog eh. 

Who is Who?

On the first issue of our paper, I wrote a column about teachers, requesting those stingy and too unfriendly ones to minimize their being so bossy. I even posted a copy of it here on blogger. Now, the whole campus is buzzing on who that mysterious teacher whom I made as an example. I gave descriptions of how she looked and how she handles her class, well, her identity as a female has already been exposed. But I made modifications at the end, made my English indirect to the point, and altered a little of this and that so that no one could trace the person behind the text. 

After my Literature class this morning, I proceeded to the English Department to get the papers my teacher asked me to check. There, I found three female English teachers and one male teacher who was attending to a visitor. One of the teachers, who was also my English teacher before, asked me straight. "Ako to imung gipasabtan sa imung column day?" (Was it I whom you were referring to in your column?) I was shocked to hear it from her. But her smiling face met my eyes and I thought she asked it without malice. I smiled back and said, "No ma'am."

She introduced me to another teacher across the room who said, "Nah. Dili jud to ako kay wala man na sya na under nako."

I gave another smile and finally went out of the department. On my way to the canteen, I thought of not telling anyone at all about this secret. Only one person knows about her real identity and I know I can trust that gal. As of the moment, the question remains. "WHO IS WHO?"

You Did it AGAIN

Do you have to be reminded over and over again about that laziness of yours? Do you have to be embarrassed every time so that you will realize that you have to change something from your attitude? Do you have to run from here to there just so you will come to your senses? Do you have to be reprimanded every morning so that you will make things faster?

Yes. I really think you have to hear sermons everyday regarding that stupid procrastination and slow-poke attitude of yours. You seem to have changed nothing. You tried it once but it failed. Now, everything is falling into their right places. This stupidity is finally slowly eating you up.

Late #1

Imagine how thick-faced you were upon entering into your Biology class this morning. I know you woke up early and reviewed your notes for what seemed to be an exam in your History class but then you realized that it was too early for a bath so you tarried in one of the corners and waited for your mother to scold you.

Well, in no time, you were done with everything when the rain dropped like there's no tomorrow. You asked your mother to accompany you to the highway under that gray umbrella you hated to bring. She agreed. You expected for her to keep quiet but she did not, as what mothers always do. She kept on reminding you about the time. You were used to it, though, so there was no problem to that, most especially on the part where she finally kept her silence. But when you saw that bus pass with an interval of just a few seconds, she started talking again.

After missing the bus, you waited patiently for the next bus to arrive, fifteen minutes later. You refused all the jeepneys that offered you a ride because you knew that they are also slow-pokes just like yourself. Upon seeing an incoming bus, you waved your right hand for a ride but the driver did not seem to give a brake. You thought that what happened yesterday might repeat, wherein the bus, although not full, did not stop at your wave. Good thing the heavens pitied you and made the bus stop.

To make the very long narration short, you arrived at your Biology class thirty minutes after the time. Your classmates were already soaked with alien words and incomprehensible jargon when you opened the door. No harm done. Though panting, you were still relieved to discover that your teacher did not check the attendance. *lol*

Late #2

If your first late happened early this morning, your second late happened early this afternoon. You know that your teacher in Field Study called for a meeting. The purpose was to organize the class and elect officers. Your were very aware of the time, I know, because you have with you your wrist watch. I don't know what went into your head when you decided to go fifteen minutes after the time. Even after your friend texted you to go to the CED building, you still did not heed yet continued to do what you were doing in the office.

Just like what happened earlier today, you arrived at the classroom thirty minutes after the time. You entered, thinking that the teacher was still discussing about the meeting. Albeit late, you managed to creep into the room. But with her four eyes, she detected your entrance and said, "The meeting is over. You just come back Friday for the FS meeting...you can go to your next class."

At first, you did not understand what she meant by those statements but when the students looked at you in surprise, you got what they mean. You were already intruding their class discussion and you were not welcome anymore for being late. You hurried outside and walked back to the office, trying to control the mixture of humor and embarrassment rushing through your veins.

So, are you going to do these things again? Perhaps yes. I know that you have been late for the nth time already and you won't miss a week going to your class or any agreement for that matter without being late. I bet you, you'll have more of that soon. *lol* Keep it up!

Better Teachers, Better Students

It was only a week ago when you felt the mixture of thrill and hang-over of coming into your first class for the first semester of the school year 2011-2012. With high hopes of not getting in late, you rush to nearby seat, greet some friends, and then finally freeze at the sight of an ash-haired, cherry-red-lipped personage entering in. 

That is the beginning of an elementary class in a university, the old school way of commencing the day. It usually begins with a greeting or a snub from the teacher, depending on his/her mood, marital status, and maturity; it is followed by the introduction of names, wherein students are asked to stand up, go in front, and conquer their glossophobias with a sign of the cross, and then start the sentence with "My name is...I live in...I am..." So kindergarten! The attendance is checked, rules overviewed, late comers interrogated, and then the class released 30 minutes before the time. Day one ended. 

But when you try to pay more attention to the picture, you'll discover a certain ritual of pretension during the first few days of classes.

More of the students, starting from those a level higher than the freshmen up to the senior including those who have gathered ideas from friends and even nonsense rumors, take note of the classroom numbers and the respective teachers of those particular rooms. When they think the teacher is boring, too strict, too stingy, or just sucks, they would, as much as possible, do the best that they can to avoid encoding that teacher's room number into their load slips. Unfortunately for those who have admitted themselves late, they would have no choice but to settle with the "left-overs." Or they would march into the Registrar's office, plead for a revision of their load slips in the presence of a twenty-five peso hard cash and enter into another class, away from the terrors of the past teacher. 

In one of the classes that I have attended, I got to know a teacher who was superbly good in diction and pronunciation but has a poor level of respect and tact. I could see how smart she dressed, how beautiful she walked, and how well she has mastered her speech. She was even successful at making us giggle in between her delivery. Upon the end of the class, however, she spotted a group of almost loquacious students on the far end of the room and started to spew hot lava from the opening of her mouth, pelting insulting words, such as calling them pea-brained, and besmirching the course these students are taking. It was then that I knew why many students try to avoid her class. 

I tried to find the justification for the act but I did not. Well, perhaps they were noisy. For such a shallow reason, it was still a sardonic thing to do. 

In such a noble profession, it is a disturbing reality that only a good amount of teachers are doing their jobs well and are dealing with it professionally. What then is their reason for becoming teachers? Salary? Benefits after retirement?

Teaching requires professionalism, therefore those who pursue this calling must look at things with reason, and must not be influenced by emotion; must be skilled and value-laden, and must not be a source of prejudice; must be a friend, and must not be the number one mortal enemy of the students. 

This might be college where the mentality of spoon-feeding is extracted and the value of independence is injected. This might be a high time for these pre-weaned mammals to face the realities and terrors of university life. But wouldn't it be better if the teachers are more student-friendly, more generous in giving grades to deserving students, and more tamed in their manner of speaking? Wouldn't it be better to motivate them and not to intimidate them?

With or without effect to the party concerned, I know that in the end it would still be up to the students to think of a good way to not only merely pass the subject but to learn from it even with the kind of teacher they have.

Blame It to the Heels

Okay. This happened four days ago. I was with two of my close friends in Lee Super Plaza to buy something for our major subject. Too lazy to change my attire, I flaunted with my course uniform on the heavy thoroughfares of the city. That included the pencil skirt, killer heels, and stockings. Walking in uncomfortable shoes was my constant struggle but I acted like nothing was hurting. We traveled from one stairs to another and finally decided that taking the escalator would be better. 

After finishing a cone of free ice cream on the food court, we made our way out and looked for escalators. We found one, going down. Just as I was about to step on it, I saw the facade of the open space below, trying to swallow me whole. I literally passed out and my nerves could not put me on that escalator. I saw my two companions waving at me while the escalator transported them below. They were laughing but I could see myself fighting for that sudden fear of escalators. A man who obviously looked older than me tried to assist me like I am an elderly and said, "Dali day. Kuyog ta. Ayaw kahadlok." (Come with me. Don't be afraid.). Harhar! NO WAY! ahhhh...soooo!! I looked and sounded like I am from a jungle where escalators do not exist. I looked and sounded like an ignorant lass who would finally, for the first time in her life, step on an escalator. Like oh my goodness! I can't believe I did that. 

I made a second attempt to step on the escalator.  Two salesladies started to observe me. I could even hear them talk. "Di s'ya kabalo?" (She does not know how to ride on an escalator?)

"First time dagway niya." (Maybe it's her first time.)

Huhuhu. I checked on my intact heels and started for the rail and then the first comb plate. Come what may. I can't afford to make another scene. In no time, I was already on the second floor, joining my two other friends who almost died laughing. I couldn't help myself but laugh, too, with that queer behavior of mine. Though I know those people did not recognize me, I still came to think that I would never stroll downtown in killer heels again. Hmmmppp... :/