Adamson. My second home when I was in college.
Adamson was never at par with the Big Three Universities (uuuhh, who are they again?).
My favorite prof, Señor Guillermo Gómez, kept on calling Adamson a mere diploma mill university, to which I might agree.
During my stay there (1996-2000), I considered it as one of the sloppiest places I’ve ever seen (but how I miss the fragrance of dear old Estero de Balete, sleeping soundly underneath a romantic wooden bridge…).
As a kid who grew up in several posh Parañaque subdivisions, I detested the cavalcade of provincial folk who, I thought, were lucky to have passed the entrance examinations… only to realize later on that entry into the university is mere street roasted peanuts.
Sometimes, I secretly blame my parents for having failed to familiarize me with illustrious universities earlier in high school. During my later years in Adamson, I thought that I would’ve been better off honing my craft in, perhaps UP. Up to now, many people still mistake me as a UP grad although I’ve never told them where I graduated. Yes, it makes me feel proud.
Many times, I’m tempted to edit an entry in the profile of my friendster account: shortening the school where I graduated into its abbreviation — from Adamson University to AdU, so that Pinoys unfamiliar with local school abbreviations will mistake it for Ateneo de Manila University.
Oh, I abhor so many things about my alma mater! The studentry, the professors, the guards, Manuel Tan, the school organ, the environment, its bodega-looking classrooms, its jologs ROTC officers (but I confess that I was a 4th Classman during my freshman year, hazed several times by upper classmen, including PMA topnotcher, horse-faced Charlie Domingo — may he one day rot in hell!!!).
Once, during my second phase in Adamson (2001-2003), I allied myself with a few student organizations, particularly the theatre group Tiník Ng Teatro (TNT), where I somehow shone and earned some considerable amount of respect. During my last schoolyear, I was made the Chairman of the Pool of Musicians, leading and teaching amateur musicians into playing ethnic folk music, and merging the said music with modern tunes. Even TNT’s founder, Papa Ed, was stunned when he saw us perform live onstage.
I also joined the Adamson University Libertine Society (AdU-LS), the university’s debate society. It was with the latter where I contributed many of my thoughts, ideals, and pop culture dreams for Adamsonians (thanks in part to Mr. Alejandro Nueva and Mrs. Omigosh-I-forgot-her-first-name! Villaluz de Paredes).
AdU-LS was able to scavenge then-unknown orators and intellectuals wasting away from the university’s sty of discontent: Rachel Nazaret, Julius Estampador, Ismail “Biggie” Farghaly, Gilbert Recosana, Michelle “Olats” Olaya, Denis Palma, and a host of others.
Our greatest achievement, perhaps, was the 1st Annual AdU-LS Awards Night, a spin-off of MTV Awards and NU107 Rock Awards. Local celebrities (Maggie de la Riva, Jeepney Joyride, etc) as well as homegrown talent (AdU PEP Squad, Josef Ramos, now a reporter in Manila Times — wait a minute, Josef Ramos?!) graced the event. It gave awards to the University’s familiar yet underrated individuals. One such award was the “Guardian Angel” award, won by Manong guard who I know all of us Adamsonians are familiar with: he’s this dark old guy with a wrinkled smile and a muppet-like voice — OK, so maybe I’m not good with descriptions, but you’ll know who I’m talking about when you meet him again (if he’s still there).
Inspite of this, I still don’t know why I loathe Adamson. There is this undescribable hate that I feel towards a school that I really don’t know what intellectual/emotional/spiritual significance it did to me.
Well, there was JB Lazarte, famed dude who moderates this website and who happens to be a legendary icon of the now “murdered” Adamson Chronicle. His godless stance was then unknown to me, and I gladly embraced it. And there was Tito Marí Escaño. And Alvin Julián.
There was the late poetess Amelita Cuala de Málig (some students mockingly call her Mrs. Malig-no), the mother I never had, who introduced to me not a love but an erotic passion for poetry.
Her son eventually became my bestfriend.
And her stupid son got me entangled into a steamy love affair with someone I perceived to be a cheap colegiala slut and, at times, my female bestfriend and ate, changing my life forever.
This lady is none other than my beloved spouse. And I’ll never have another slut, err, lady other than her during this lifetime.
Yes, it was in Adamson where I had my very first rock band, my first venture into serious writing (but I was rejected thrice by Adamson Chronicle), my romantic escapades, my first fuck, my realization with my bipolar disorder, my (mis)adventures with student activism (KAMALAYAN and Liga ng mga Sosyalistang Kabataan, with Chronicle reject Allan Jay Mártirez and Ybanag “scholar” Ka Danilo Balao).
And Maan’s. With its fabled mice and roach meals.
The deadly avenue of San Marcelino.
And before terrorism became a byword, explosions are already a part of an Adamsonian’s life, thanks in part to the tampuhan wars between Alpha Phi Omega and Triskelion.
Yeah, I hate Adamson, especially when I get to work with an officemate from a university adored by the local media.
But, strangely enough, I am still proud of my school. I just don’t know how to express it…
Adamson, mi Adamson
Adamson de mis amores
Detrás de un telón,
¿Qué misterio eres?
PEPE ALAS (formerly known as José Mario “Jomar” Alas, AB MASS COMMUNICATION)
Last 20 posts by Pepe Alas
Tags: Adamson University
About the author:
Pepe Alas has blogged 1
posts
Write a comment