Sunday, August 30, 2009

About the Author: Episode Three: The High School Strikes Back!

Epilogue: High School life is said to be the most joyful time of your life... For me? Heck it's another grueling journey towards the fulfillment of your study life.

Story: First Year High School. Shaved my head last summer. It's as skinny as you can get. My classmates looked at me as if they have just seen a shaolin monk. You see I have Chinese features all over me, chinky eyed as I was, yellowish as I was. I had a lean 5'5 frame at the time (A grade 6 classmate of mine would tease me about a commercial who had a chinese man as it's model).

You see I am a little introvert and I don't like anybody staring at me... especially someone scrutinizing you from head to foot.

First day, First year, First disaster. I helped myself sitting at the first seat available to prevent more scrutiny. Days as a High schooler goes on so fast, I grew my hair as long as the Beatles had their mop tops, I collected quite a band of friends... Actually almost all of the boys in the room were "barkadas" at the middle of the school year at one time we did something naughty that it could have been lifted from a scene of a comedy movie.

Here's the scene: we have this enemy teacher (the commandant of the CAT officers), who seem to be on our tail all the time, annoyed by this autocratic authority the boys devised a plan to get even. You see this commandant loves watering our school garden, the plot was to take the hose off the nozzle of the faucet. And that they did (I was not able to join them it was recess and I was busy chewing my hotdog lunch but I was able to see them do the plot as the scene was not that far from where I was eating). As the poor guy was watering the plants he was surprised to find that hose suddenly ran off of water. Maybe contemplating what happened he suddenly placed the end of the hose close to his face... And the naughty boys plugged the hose once again and WHAM! Water splashed into that poor guys face.
Naturally he was angered by this and hunted us down, and when he saw us threw us at the guidance counselor's office. My guys protected me (as they know I wasn't part of the deed) so I was spared from the Armageddon. I forgot to tell you that we called our section "Tondo". That's how rowdy we were at the time. It was also at this same time that I developed crushes even if I didn't know it at the time (I had a longing for that one seatmate of mine after we were separated due to seat re-arrangement, It was then I knew that I grew fond of her). At the end of First Year I realised that High School was a new phase, a new life, and it's true to some degree.
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Second Year. I developed a new hobby. I created an Anime inspired comics with me and my new friends as characters, It somehow gained some notoriety as a few more of those I knew copied my idea. It was by then that I developed a increasingly addicting hobby of buying NBA trading cards. It was 1997 the height of the Bulls dynasty. Naturally we were in the middle of a basketball frenzy as almost all of the Philippines idolized Michael Jordan. NBA trading cards is not only a hobby but a business opportunity as well, I had one rare Jordan card once and traded it for one whole box of trading cards which I sold to my classmates 10% off prices then of a pack was 50 PHP I sold it to them 45. So in a weeks time I collect about 500 pesos enough to buy another box and sell it the week after. Great business, Great business and that was how the second year was... Our room was turned into a mini-casino with so many betting opportunities to choose from (I wouldn't tell the participants one is near our house and he might get me if I sell him ha!
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Third Year. Somehow I felt that a lot of girls was crushing on me I wonder why (hey no joke!), It was my first time to be invited to the intramurals as a basketball player, Had talented classmate in Louie Glenn (he's a great sketcher), and was part of the Dating Daan group (my classmates tagged us as that, maybe because of our intense knowledge of the Bible? I don't know). You know what if I have read Ambeth Ocampo around this time I would have contested my teacher's claim about Rizal during the time (we all know that there was a required reading of Rizal in Third and Fourth year).

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Fourth Year. I had a crush. I think she had one on me too, too bad I was so lame at the time and didn't grab the opportunity. The last year of High School and I was so focused of rushing to college... I had no time for fun, no time for crushing (just kept it inside)... I was so determined of getting good grades. I loved debating matters, had respect from my peers was one of the teacher's pets. I felt like doing it at the time because I believed my whole college life would depend on how I'd handle my Fourth Year. Love could wait, that was what's on my mind (though it kinda frustrate me up to today). I had good grades but happened after that is not what I expected.

Things I did bad in high school:

1. Tried smoking.
2. Drank gin dry, in the hot afternoon sun.
3. Didn't study for the exams and came up copying my seatmates answer. (In line with this, I developed a philosophy then: I wanted to test if I was learning something, so if I review my lectures then I did not learn enough up to college I would carry that trait).
4. Broke many hearts.
5. Cursed my teachers at their backs.
6. Fantasized women and their big fronts.
7. Cursed a lot.
8. Felt like a rebel.
9. Didn't conform with the PE uniform (it's so baduy!)
10. Grinned everytime I saw a bouncing boob.
11. Wore gel.
12. Occasionally late, fourth year was the peak (we had to do lots of chores because of this).
13. Faked illness.
14. Faked reason for tardiness.
15. Faked Parent's signature.
16. Questioned authority.

Well that's what I remember right now... Don't worry I'd add something more if I remember them. haha! Until next time. Chow!

Saturday, August 29, 2009

About the Author: Episode Two: The Pupil wars (formative years)

Epilogue: Why do I enjoy reading? Is it because I enjoyed my father reading me panels of the highly addicting Funny komiks as a child? Yes, comics was my vehicle for studying how to read. I tired real hard just to be able to read one by myself. After my nursery class (which I shared earlier, the class where I became.. Ahem valedictorian), everybody have high expectation for this new child prodigy (if I really was in the first place) And here we start our new chapter.

Story: Like all kids experiencing the trauma of boarding another school, I had to highly impress my new teachers with my in earth charisma. During the first meet and greet session I had to make an impression by exhibiting to them my counting expertise (I was not ahem valedictorian for nothing aren't I?) What traumatized me was when they asked us pupils to dance in front of them (what are we babies?!), I tried my best twisting and turning as far as I could (I'm no dancer as I have two left foot, hehe). Needless to say I marked a good one on the obese teacher that interviewed us. Or maybe because I flashed my killer smile that kept her at awe (haha!).

After I enrolled in the new school, I was a consistent top 1-3 student in every class. It seemed like those days were so fast, I barely remember those days now. One thing I could note though is my teachers then. If my techers weren't obese, they always carry extra baggages in their belly (translation they're pregnant), or they are old misers that are as thin as their bones. (imagine a scene from the twilight zone). One time I had an adviser whom I had for a week only mainly because she was due to deliver the week after...

The old hags you call as teachers are terrible ones they make fun of you, like old hags do (haha). One more thing to note about them is they burry you with lots of homeworks... Sometimes I wanted to shout more in order for them to notice that they have written the entire two blackboards with their crappy homeworks.

Come grade three the pupil wars began. (star wars theme here)

I was highly confident that I'll be at the top of the class when I stepped in. But when I met my would be teachers I couldn't help but be terrified at the same time smile. Smile because I had a teacher whose surname was Militar (English term is Military) and another one surnamed Base (base) so combine them and you have a military base (gasp!). Terrorized because I literally had a terror Teacher her name is P-A-D-I. First glance at her and my tail was cut off. She handled Math. MATH. It was so pain staking it felt like hell during her period. Addition and Subtraction were easy I mastered it from Grade 1 -2 even Kindergarten, but multiplication? subtraction?

She demanded that we mastered the multiplication table from 1 up to 30. She gave the demand Friday and it was to be met by Monday. As Monday came I was praying the whole rosary before her time.. Dear Jesus, Please spare me from the recitation. Amen.

Jesus is ever so considerate, he heard my prayer I "pooped" in my sit maybe out of horror. The stench flowed over the classroom that my seatmates ultimately yelled "Ambaho" (Too stinky).

Padi in shock, shouted at the top of her lungs "To the CR, fast". Me? I couldn't move, out of shame and horror, I knew I would be the talk of the town for the rest of the school year, I just knew I'm screwed.

After the humiliating experience I went straight home, did not attend the following three days and upon my arrival the imminent came. I had my ear screwed by Padi for not memorizing the table. My ear was so red and hurting it felt like it was ran down by a burning iron.

You know what? I pooped the second time in the next weeks... So the humiliation only intensified after then. I had low morale, I felt like having a real lightsaber to stop the pestering kids who taunted me. It was because of that, that I became adamant of my studies often absent in class and it did't help that I had measles at the very end. Good bye top 3... The only thing I could grasp was Top 7 and it wasn't good enough for me.

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Grade four. Saving Grace. I have no classmates who knew the embarrassing moments of my life. I had a fresh start. But was in no condition to compete for top honors yet.

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Grade Five. The Struggle. I am slowly returning to form thanks to my friends Cyril and Ryan back then. I noticed I'm still a cut above the rest, I now re-enjoyed holding a book, reading especially Math and History. Yes math, I love Math in Grade 5. It was then I realized that Padi had the right motivation but wrong instructions.

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Grade Six. Battle Mode. Back to business, Thanks to the two years that passed I was battle ready once more. It was at this point that I gained admirers (some even sent me love notes), which was not really my priority then (but my priority now haha!). At this point I felt the pupil wars was over because I was back at being confident with myself.

Parting Notes:

To my readers, thanks for reading and keep on reading for more as I will be posting some more stuff in days to come. Thanks! May the force be with you.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

About the Author: Episode One: The Phantom Kid

Epilogue: October 25, 1983 at 2:00 at dawn heaven's sent... Adrian Barcia (yours truly!). Martial Law is still in effect. Doctor's who caught me in their arms said: "What's this a Lizard?" (maybe owing to the fact that I was so puny when delivered hehe (If only the late Ernie Baron was alive I could have asked him does the sand man truly exist? I'd ask this because later in life, my mom said that after I was born they found many specks of sand in my eyes).

Story: I'm a happy child. Very happy indeed. I have two pet dogs, my constant companions and great protectors. I just don't know if they do it because of loyalty or because I have some stinky shit over my diaper. What I just can't imagine is what my mother told me that I was forced fed with lizard (it's said to be an old cure for asthma, I'm asthmatic as a kid). I was so sickly that my parents brought me to Roxas Boulevard (now what kids nowadays fondly call Baywalk) to catch some fresh air, There I would sip my "Yakult" and my "Magnolia Fresh Milk" in a bottle (it was bottled then). My body was so sickly even Johnny Midnight's toning water never helped me. My doctor's would punish me by sending a foot long injection needle on my butt (of course you know it's exaggeration but for a boy of 2-3 it don't matter how long, it hurts!).

Not so long after, or a thousand injections later, I learned to fight back, I remember punching a nurse who was getting a blood sample (Early on I should have taken boxing as a sport), I did the same to the kid who tried to grab my paper aeroplane, not only did I punch him he also received a mark for weeks (a black eye).

Here's the incident: The kid has an uncle who obliged to our prodding of making us the paper aeroplane, so a good boy as I was I took 2 new bond papers form my stock. As soon as the first paper aeroplane was finished the other boy took it, And that was when he come to the unfortunate end of tasting my straight jab hehe. I was never violent, but I guess I have a knack of protecting what was mine.

When I turned to school, In nursery I gave my mom the best gift I could give her on the first day. a "zero" on my first examination paper. She was so proud she didn't let me sleep in the afternoon and gave me dozens of lectures and mini-tests to ensure I never have "zero" on an exam again.

But to tell you the truth, it never changed what was to become of me in the end...

A valedictorian (naks! I could hear the winds starting to blow alittle stronger now).

I have so many more to share... Just watch out for the continuation. Until then. May the force be with you.