Assumption Girl at the State University

When my mom first told Miss Barrera that I was applying to U.P., Miss Barrera’s first reaction was “Baka ma-culture shock siya.” Well, I ended up in U.P. And culture shock indeed it was.

First of all, registration. Our batch had the grace to experience what the legendary U.P. registration was all about. I had a cousin, a U.P. student, who accompanied me to my first one. We had to be in line by 3 a.m. It was an adventure, you and hundreds, maybe thousands of other students lining up, hoping to get into the prime classes (read that as good professors, and decent schedules.) My cousin was so helpful and eager to be with me, but I think she really just wanted to see if her hoity toity Assumption cousin could stand up to this initiation rite of all U.P. students. I did. If I was going to be a U.P. student, then I had to behave just like all the other thousands of regular U.P. students.

Now back to broad daylight, the first days of school. My first impression: Madumi! Que horror! For years at Assumption, I took for granted clean, dust free classrooms, pristinely erased blackboards, and well-lit rooms. At U.P., I made up my own alcohol pads. Everytime I sat at a new desk, I would take out the alcohol, and clean it. Of course, my other ex-Assumption friends, now at U.P., would laugh at me. After awhile, they were borrowing my little jar. This lasted, maybe a few months. By then, almost every seat in every classroom would have been sat on by someone already, in essence, wiping the dust on their clothes. No more need for my alcohol.

The bathrooms: left much, much to be desired. How to cope? I wanted to bring a can of Lysol in my bag. BUT, my ex-Assumption friends managed to prevail upon me. Some of us were trying hard as it was, to not look too conspicuous. Cricket Concepcion’s next solution was to walk about 10 minutes away to her tita’s office, where we could use her bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t always possible to do that. So, for the next semester, all my classes were in the morning only. By noon, I was on my way home. If I could hold off going to the bathroom until I got home, then I would. And I did. It’s a minor miracle I did not get some kidney disease or something, that first year in college. Also, nowhere until U.P. did I find a "convenience store" in one corner of the banyo: a woman selling juicy fruit, halls, ballpens, blue books (U.P. exam booklets), kleenex, Kotex, at marami pang iba!

Speaking of food: There were no Assumption-like cafeterias, which we were now pining for. Instead, they had little shacks a la roadside turo-turos and carinderias. (They only got nicer years later.) So that’s where we ate, or if we were lucky, and we ran into a friend with a car, then we drove and got to eat elsewhere.

The professors: My first glimpse of this man, well, he looked like Juan de la Cruz to me, dressed in maong and t-shirt, and for heaven’s sake, chinelas! It turns out that he was one of the most brilliant calculus professors I have ever had! You see in U.P., you never know. The most ma-porma guy in class, could be really bobo, but the batang kalye dude who kinda looked greasy was brilliant. Lesson to be learned: do not judge a dude by his cowboy boots, or the state of his toenails, truly.

Class: I was a math major, so we all had the same required subjects, pre-requisites, etc. I looked around for familiar faces, knowing full well that among my circle of friends, no one was crazy as me to apply for math. Lucky for me, Gena Concepcion was just as crazy. So right away, I had a friend. We were the only two Assumption girls in our course. Ahead of us a few years was Nina Huab, Mrs. Huab’s daughter (so no surprise there.) Here’s what I did the first few days of class: When the teacher walked in the room. I stood up. Why? Because I was ready to say “Good morning, Mr. Reyes.” Pahiya ako, no? No one else stood up. No one greets teachers apparently, outside of Assumption. Another time, not only did I stand up, by sheer force of habit, I made the sign of the cross too and only when I was halfway through did I realize I was alone! Of course, no one prayed before class started in a non-sectarian school! It felt very strange the first few weeks.

So what one item did I need to purchase, which I never owned before? An umbrella! Life before UP: you got dropped off where there was an awning, and your school was covered in covered walks, that you never needed a payong. Now it was a must. Plus we learned how to take public. Cricket and I eased our way into public transportation. At first, we would only take the aircon Love Buses. After a while, not wanting to wait for them anymore, we would take non-aircon ones, but the nicer kinds. After a while, not wanting to wait even for those, we learned how to take the….dyipney! Especially since now there was a Sharon Cuneta movie every few months. We would sneak down to Ali Mall between classes, watch the movie then get back to school. So we became experts on the U.P.-Cubao dyip routes. Also, the only way to get around the HUGE Diliman campus, if you did not drive, was to take the free ikot jeeps that went around as shuttles.

In the beginning of college, we would dress nicely, fix our hair, put on a little make-up. Susan Benitez and I had this game, where we would try to make our closets go as long as possible without repeating an outfit exactly. In later years, as long as you left your house with no muta, and no bad breath, you were fine! Slowly, we were scrubbing off some of our Assumption skin.

As the years went by and we all went deep into our own majors, I saw less and less of my Assumption friends, and made more new friends. I went on to make friends with wonderful, salt of the earth, brilliant people at U.P. It was truly a different universe from the one I grew up in, but this new world also opened my eyes to what really goes on in life. I went from being a kinda big fish in a small pond, to a truly tiny fish in an ocean. If I used to think "I know a lot", well now it was "Oh my God, what else do I not know?" In many ways humbling, in many ways a great relief.

If we were such sheltered children in Assumption, U.P. laid it all bare (including the annual Christmas streakers running through the halls!) If Assumption was safe, U.P. was always teeming with cops. If Assumption was predictable, at U.P., you never knew what would happen next (bakbakan? walk-out? demonstration? rally?) If Assumption had chaste uniforms, well U.P. had... The Oblation, in all its glory! If Assumption was prayerful, U.P. was usually irreverent. My world suddenly had balance and new perspective. It was enlightening to see life from another point of view.

Soon after U.P. ended, my world would become Chicago, Illinois, then St. Louis, Missouri, then New York City: far, far away from my life at Assumption. The ocean just got larger and larger and larger.

But did Assumption prepare me for this bigger, wider, wilder world out there?

Actually, YES. Assumption taught me grace, and dignity, and generosity, and duty, and responsibility. And most of all, Assumption taught me courage and faith, enough of it to deal with whatever the big world out there would toss at me. 25 years later, gratefully, this little fish is still swimming strongly.