March 17 2007. It was 6 in the morning when I woke up, and shall have a night that day. Nonetheless, I was pretty much sure that shall transpire will be something noteworthy. And I guess my hunch was right; it indeed ended up as a spectacular night—ever.
Preparation. I started preparing at around 1.15 in the afternoon. My coat, pants, light blue long sleeves, tie, shoes, socks, and handkerchiefs were placed on the sofa. It was a humid day, admittedly speaking. I had to take a shower for me to feel relieved of that scourging heat of the sun. I finished quicker than that of before, and took me 45 minutes (including the answering the call of nature, that is) to finish all my necessities. It was 2 pm.
Gear up. Pack up. Since that day was reaaaaallly really special, I took things in a slower pace. I could have just defined the meaning of haste, but I didn’t. I put on to myself the blue long sleeves, light brown—close to white, that is—pants, and my tie. I ended my gearing-up at around 3.30, and was prepping up to be signed, sealed, and delivered to number 33 Julius Caesar Street in Kingsville. Haha. I placed my coat on my right arm, instead of wearing it that afternoon since I can still feel the heat of the sun. There I was, seated right next to dad and mom, in front of the car, together with my uncle and aunt, and their three loving children. We hit the roads of Town and Country, then took the kilometer-long stretch of Marcos Highway, and then ended up there, in the busy streets of Kingsville, turning a hundred lefts and rights, just for me to be delivered there. Luckily, we went there a few days before the occasion. Going there is a breeze.
Arrival . CLXV. I was technically late; I arrived two minutes later than the scheduled time. Sorry, Aby, about it. We had our pictures taken by Tito Al. Two shots of a digital camera flashed on our innocent faces (are we really that innocent or what?). We immediately took off the grid and left at around 4.06, with her dad driving, and her mom sitting right next to her dad. I sat at the right side of Aby. The ride went well, but I had no idea on how to go through the thoroughfares of the upper Marikina.
There we were at Gate 6. The call time, as what was said by their students’ activities director was 4.30 in the afternoon. We were lucky. The parking area was filled with guards redirecting the cars toward the open space, inside the St Scholastica’s grounds—and yes, the guard who told me about the sandals with heels was there. Hah. So, the clock struck 4.15, and we went straight off to the registration hall at Gate 3. I remember Aby getting annoyed by her footwear, and gown—and she’s worried as well about two things (one is the dress code St Scholastica has imposed on them, and second is whether there would be Seniors who would wear the same thing). We passed through the registration, her father was given a medallion (a Benedictine Medallion, if my memory still serves me well), and poof, there were we, in the events place.
While waiting, since we assumed that the program will really start at 4.30, we posed and there you go, the camera flashed, a million times, then another, and another, until the clock struck 5. We waited. And we waited. It turned out that the program started late, that is 5.30 in the afternoon. Yes, we waited for more than an hour. Well, being punctual is a gift—and a curse.
The processional started, calling all three hundred and one graduating students with their fathers, or honorable male member of the family, or partners in some special circumstances. Rituals followed after. Since the escorts were asked to seat at the back, there I placed myself, a few paces off the Villafuertes (I really have no idea why did the SSAM placed the male partners at least a meter off their partners—oh well). The whole first part consumed two hours, and for two hours, I waited at the back. Hah. At least I am quite happy with the result. It was planned simply, yet ended up fantastically (for them).
After the Rigodon de Honor, dinner immediately followed. Finally, after the two long hours, I suddenly felt blood rushing down my feet. It was past seven in the evening, and the only thing I knew that would relieve me from the “stressful waiting” load is the food. FOOD. At least there, once again, I joined Tito Al, Tita Grace, and Aby. The night was young, and there was still room for more. Sigh. Finally, I put on the coat I was holding for quite some time. It did suite me, at least. After passing through the caterer, we went to our own small tables, and there we dine (is my term correct?). People laughed and reminisced on the beautiful memories of the past as they watch the multimedia presentation of each section. Don’t worry, there were five screens dedicated for the presentation, so that made the presentation consume less time. Aby, with Tita Grace, went to the lavatory (of course, I would definitely not know what is it all about), but I believe that that there was a disaster happened there. Well, to know more about it, click here. This will redirect you to her blog.
The dinner was up and we went back to the hall. Each section presented a self-composed song after dinner. St Angela, Aby’s home for the past ten months of her stay in the fourth year was the last one to present in the song interpretation.
It’s Time. Indeed, it was the time for us to become the dancers of the night, just for that night, I believe. I stood at her left side, and we walked gracefully toward the front. Yes, in fact we were standing at the right side of the podium (we were lucky, at least not at the front-center of the company, eh). And there the music started. One, two, three, one, two, three, and turn. We swayed with Strauss, and there we go. The first part of the dance was splendid. I really can’t believe that it ended up well. Whoa, I should say. We were not able to remind ourselves that Aby was supposed to go around me, during the big group part. Waaa. At least it was not obvious. Haha. We continued dancing, until the final part of the cotillion. Sigh. I guess, without the “no music” practice, the dance could have been a real deal disaster. Sigh. Happy. Happy feet. Haha.
After the dance, Aby and me took a stroll around the grounds of SSAM. The sky was clear and cold. Though I was completely idealess of the reason why we had the stroll, all I could say was “what a night”. The free dance soon followed after, but Aby and I preferred to take a seat instead and watch our comrades. Boys were literally shocked by the Scholasticans—including me own self. It was 10.30 in the evening.
In the car, we watched through their camera the video taken during the dance. We really can’t help but laugh. Haha. Parang hindi kami yung sumasayaw. We also looked at the pictures taken that day. Fourteen pictures—all in all. They drove me back to our residence, and sigh. It was 11 in the evening. Before leaving, she left me two things—the SSAM invitation, and a keychain holder.
And then, they left. I wasn’t able to sleep quickly. I was pondering on it, and suddenly asked myself, “did it really happen?” It really looked like it was just an imagination—an event too good to be true. In the end, I realized one thing—it did happen.
To Aby, thank you for that fabulous night. (A thank you will not suffice, I am sure of it).
