BY REX C. CATUBIG
Walking forward to the new school (2nd of 2 Parts)
Every school day, we were greeted by the sight of a woman squatting on the ground by the schoolyard, looking like a village seeress presiding over her caldero of pancit sabaw that’s wrapped in daan’a ules, stuffed in a buksot, and set upon a “bankito”.
It was Nana Binang Estrella, the mother of my classmate Vicente who was taunted as “Enteng ya Pillayot” because of his waddling walk caused by polio. A steaming bowl of the achuete infused pancit sabaw with “sambong ya orang”, cost tinggal or 5 centavos, a delicious and filling snack to carry us through the 3 R’s of reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic.
Growing up, I was not given to mischief and the rough and tumble ways. Which prompted my grade 2 teacher, the plump but elegant Mrs Emilia Junio, to rib me: “Binabai ka amo”. I did not understand. I just felt more confused than embarrassed.
My other teachers were less outspoken but no less a powerhouse: the stern looking Madam Carmen Manuncia who steered us through Grade 1; the single substitute teacher, Madam de la Rosa, whose Max factor face launched a hundred boats. She trained us to bend and sway to the rhythm of Pandango that we performed for the field demonstration at the oval in Tapuac. And my mild-mannered aunt, Mrs Josefa C Bustria who was my Grade 3 mentor. It’s rather vague to me, however, how Head Teacher Madam Gutierrez handled my Grade 4 class.