Back to school in the 1960s

If today had been in the early 1960s, I too would have been going back to school. I would have been in grade school, a time I always love to remember for its being less pretentious and uncomplicated.

I would have also been up very early, maybe because I was roused from bed, although I may have to admit sleep the previous night could have come in snatches and waking did not come that hard for someone so excited.

School at a time of few distractions can be pretty exciting. Today’s consumer society is given to compulsive buying. Shopping in those times came few and far between and were a luxury. When school opened, everybody had new stuff, and it meant a lot to kids my age.

My school uniforms were bought at Villamor’s, the premier store for children in Cebu in the 1960s. My black Walkover leather shoes were bought at Everett but my white Converse canvass shoes for PE were bought at Carbon.

School supplies were invariably bought at Sen Hiap Hing. Up to this day I still love the smell of crayons. Pencils then were always Mongol and ballpens were always Bic. Paste came in small jars and I also love their smell. Everything went into a brown crocodile sling bag.

By 6 a.m. I would have finished breakfast of sinangag, adobo, sabaw sa inun-unan, and sikwate and off to bath. My bath soap then was Lifebouy and of course the toothpaste was Colgate. By a quarter to seven I was fully clothed, my hair slick and kept in place by pomade.

 Pomade is close to what today’s kids would call styling gel, although much thicker. There were a lot of brands then — from the cheaper Pals to the more expensive Tancho. And of course what else but a pomade called The Beatles, even if the Fab Four themselves never used any.

 By seven I was out by the side of the road, waiting for my jeepney ride. There were few jeepneys then and sometimes, when pressed for time, I would have to ride the wagon, a bus-like vehicle whose seating arrangement was like that of a jeep.

 To stop a wagon when you want to get off, you had to pull a string strung the entire length of the ceiling of both sides of the vehicle above where the passengers sat. The family of Pilar Pilapil used to own a fleet of wagons called SeaShell Trans.

 The fare from Mandaue City, where I lived, to Cebu City was 10 centavos. Most jeepneys still passed through Magallanes Street where my school, Colegio del Santo Niño, was. And all jeepneys still went to Carbon.

 Colegio del Santo Niño at the time was reputed to be a school that had only three kinds of students: “Dato, mestizo, or brayt.” I don’t know who came up with those distinctions. But as young kids at the time, we were pretty much oblivious to them.

 Sometimes, I could get a free ride from relatives who had cars. I remember getting bundled into the backseat of Tiya Raquel’s car with my cousins, all girls, who went to school at St. Theresa’s College.

 It was good to be on time because the Augustinian Fathers who ran CSN were all Spaniards at the time and were very strict. They closed the gates at the bell. Latecomers were let in after the flag ceremony but had to kneel under the sun in the quadrangle for one period.

 We only had one section for each grade at the time and the class was divided right down the middle. One side of the aisle was for the boys, the other for girls. Punishment for naughty boys was to sit with the girls. It was a terrible punishment at the time.

One thing good about those days was that the environment was still unharassed. Our classroom windows opened to Plaza Rizal and fresh breezes still blew. Kids did not sweat a lot. At day’s end we still smelled good. More importantly, we went home really learning something.