Once upon a time…
It was another life. Almost literally, for our family. Pre-Canada days are all a blur to me. With what my family went through in 1986, I think my mind chose to edit my memory. Try losing your home and your country overnight. The wounds are deep. One day I will tell that story. (Side note: I was probably the only girl with faded uniform back then. Where my mother bought my set, I don’t know. My sister got to experience going to the same school, but only for Prep. I went all the way to Grade 7.)
Yesterday, for the first time since 1983, I went back to my old school – St. Scholastica’s College, Manila. It was just as I remembered it. Perhaps even more beautiful now, but smaller. I didn’t get emotional. I was happy.
I was stunned by the beauty of St. Cecilia’s Hall. The stage, backstage, seats were all upgraded. But it still maintained the original Art Deco beauty and details. My mom made me take piano lessons here. I still remember those narrow little hallways with piano rooms. It was spooky and creaky. But I survived it. I even went as far as having my first recital in St. Cecilia’s Hall. Then one day, I decided piano wasn’t for me. Now, I have zero musical skills.
I am joining my elementary batchmates in celebrating this St Scho reunion (still hoping I could get a copy of the grade school yearbook). Even though I didn’t go to high school with them, I feel the connection. I’m even going as far as joining the dance show. OMG.
I love seeing the faces to the names I once knew. I love reconnecting with old friends again. This is the closest thing I’ll have to feel the home and country I once lost.