Campus love life in the ‘60s

I spent my whole college life as a dormer in the early 1960s: three years at Ilang-ilang dorm (named Banahaw then), one summer at Sampaguita, and my fourth year at Kamia. I participated in the Cadena de Amor festival in my junior and senior years and joined my college in the annual Lantern Parade.

I remember vividly that Boots Anson was our Queen of the Lantern Parade in our freshman year. I had a number of crushes and puppy loves in my first two years in college but not a single one went beyond a tender gaze from across the classroom, a brief hello or how-are-you from a vanguard master through a neophyte, or even a sweet conversation during a dorm visit.

I remember Dean Clemente emphasizing in Euthenics class that when we dance with a gentleman, it should be one twelve-inch ruler away from each other from head to foot. She and other professors would see to it that we observed this decorum in the required dances that we had to attend at the social hall. I also could not figure out until now what happened when another Euthenics professor, Ms. Rafols, who crossed the Sunken Garden every now and then, chanced upon me and my boyfriend as we sat on the green grass while watching the sunset (we thought it was more beautiful than the one in Manila Bay).

There were other pairs like us on the grass, and no one was doing any hanky-panky. Remember, this was the ‘60s. But Ms. Rafols squinted, held on to her ebony wig as it was quite windy then, and approached us. “What are you doing here? Where do you stay?”  I nervously whispered, “Dorm, Ma’am.” She turned to my boyfriend, “Young man, you should visit her there. Decent men and women do not sit on the grass.” And she did not leave until we stood up and walked away from the Sunken Garden. And yet we observed exasperatingly that she did not send home all the other teenagers there.

I will never forget what happened one morning in February 1963 after our annual ball at the Ilang-ilang dorm. Girls were crowding each other at the dorm secretary’s table as they looked at the pictures taken by the official photographer. I squeezed myself excitedly into the group but to my surprise, the dorm secretary flung some pictures on the table; and in her grating and irritating voice blurted out, “There, take your pictures. They are very scandalous. The dorm matron is angry and is asking why you allowed your pictures to be taken.” I was aghast and asked “Why, what’s wrong with my pictures?” “You were holding hands with your boyfriend!” I had only one picture holding hands with my boyfriend though. I was dismayed and I looked at her, waiting for clarification.

I knew that the dorm matron and her assistant were not around, so she was the boss that day. She added, “What if you don’t end up together? That picture would be an embarrassment and you would never want to look at it again.”

I took my pictures and left quietly but I could feel my cheeks redden with shame. My American roommate was the one who got angry as she blurted out, “ I can’t understand your culture . . . they want you to hold hands in the dark instead? My picture is more scandalous, see?” In her pictures, her boyfriend’s hand was on her nape and around her shoulders.

I would later come back to Ilang-ilang in the early ‘70s to visit a sister who was staying there; and I would see students in front of the dorm, not only holding hands but hugging and kissing in broad daylight. The dorm matron and her assistant and secretary were still around then but were apparently more permissive.

It turned out that the dorm matrons had no reason for concern because my boyfriend in both unforgettable incidents is now my husband. We’ve been together for 39 years and we still hold hands, wherever and whenever, and we laugh heartily whenever we remember our campus life.

Even now, we both recall what one male guidance counselor intimated to me that the future seemed bleak if I insisted on pursuing this relationship. We have proven him wrong for although we were unable to get married at the UP Chapel, we fulfilled a vow to come back for our silver wedding anniversary Mass, which was officiated by Fr. Pat Lim, the college chaplain when we were students.

In hindsight, we found rare true love on campus. And what more valuable proof than this: our two beloved children who are UP alumni, too.

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