'Pan-Academic'

Nagluók na naman si Venancio! Siisay si kairiba?” hapot samò ni Mrs. Avila, si maestra mi kadto sa Grade 5.

“Ma’am, sa Carlito po, tapos si Sanchez, iyo man!” simbag mi.

Poon kadto sagkod ngonyan, ngalás ako kun saìn hálî an taramon na “lu-ók” sa Bikol, na an buot sabihon saná, “buradol” (sa Bikol man), na garo man sana “bulakbol” sa Tagalog, o “cutting class” sa Ingles. 

Dai daw ni hali man sana sa “lóko,” o “lokó” siring sa “lokólokó”? Na siertong hali sa Espanyol na “loco” (meaning “crazy”):

Kan magLU-OK si Venancio kaidto, dai na tinapos kaini si klase mi maghapon. Pagkapangudto niya daa nin prinitos na sira tapos malutô na pinatos sa linubluban na dahon-batag, mayô mi na siya nahiling pag Industrial Arts, sa klase ni Mr. Olarve sa balyong building.

“Ma’am, nagparapantirador po to nin gamgam”, sabi kan iba. O kawasa taga-Banase, tibaad man “pigsugo kan si magurang na mag-uli nin amay” ta “harayo pa an babaklayon patukad”, sabi pa ninda. 

Alagad si Carlito na taga-Iraya man sana, harani sa eskwelahan, tibaad “nagparararawraw sana kairiba sa Simon, nagpaturuyatoy daa sa Katangyanan. “Baad nagtirirador man.”

“Hilingon ta daw, kun siisay an pigloLOKO ninda. Pag naaraman kong nagruLU-ÓK man nanggad sinda, tapos nagparakaraluwág, mahihiling ninda!” hirit ni Ma’am na Avila.

(Mayo pang Child Protection Policy kadto sa DepEd kaya safe pa si Ma’am sa mga comment niyang ini. Mayo pang mareklamong magurang.)

Kun arog kaini an istorya, pwedeng sabihon na an “lu-ók” hali man sana sa Bikol o Tagalog na “lóko.” 

 Iyo gayod: an pag-LU-ÓK, daing kinaiba nanggad sa pag-”LOKÓ”.

 Na hali man sana sa Espanyol na loco (meaning “crazy”). In English, meanwhile, “loco” is an informal or slang term meaning insane, strange, eccentric or stupid. Sabi kan Kano: “Low-kow”.

 I first heard the term “lu-ók” as a pupil in a public elementary school which I attended for six years, from ‘82 to ‘88. “Nagluók” or “paralú-ok” referred to someone who went to school but not finished the entire day. 

 “Paglulu-ók” could happen during the morning recess when a pupil wouldn’t return anymore after taking snacks (An sabi ninda nagbakal saná nin chicheria, idto palan, nag-uli na!).

 It was also when the pupil wouldn’t be present in class before the start of the afternoon session, just after lunch (today, perhaps that would already be considered a half-day absence); and even toward the end of the last period in the afternoon, just before the Flag Retreat at around 4 p.m. 

 I wonder if the same thing happened in private schools during the time. Their (close and closed) monitoring wouldn’t have allowed the pupils to go out of the campus randomly or skip classes as they pleased.

 But even if they did so, why the term “lu-ók”? Where did the word come from? 

 Kun “buradol” para sa “cutting class”, OK lang: Madali sanang isipon kun pâno an buradol nagin cutting class:

 Siisay man bayâ an aking dai mamuyang magpalayog kan saiyang buradol (kite), orog na pag naaraman kaining nagduman si Ma’am ninda sa Principal’s Office ta igwa daang conference?

 Winalat ni Ma’am sinda sa sarong kaklase: tapos igwang pinapakopya sa blackboard. Kaya sabi kan aki, “O, ‘mos na kamo! Karawat kita sa luwas!” 

 Ito palan buminalik pa si Ma’am ninda ta halipot man sana an meeting kaini. Kaya pagsarabing yaon na si Ma’am, duminulág na sana siya. “Ano ko, mapa-rapado? Dai na ko mabalik!” 

 Dai na nag-Flag Retreat ta úto kaiba si kaklase niya sa likod kan eskwelahan harani na sa may kanipaan. Duman nagparaparaláyog kan saindang buradol. 

 Dai ta man masasabing nagkulang si strategy ni Ma’am na engganyaron su mga eskwela niya ta nganing mag-aradal. Kawasâ aki pa, mas magayon an magrawraw sa luwas, sa mahiwas na kawatan, lalo na sa luwas sana kan eskwelahan. Kaya imbis na magbasa kan pigsugong istorya sa librong Balarila, “nagbururadol” (saranggola) na sana. 

 But to me the term was always “lu-ók,” or “nagluók,” which eventually became “cutting class” when I stepped into high school. 

Halagwat si lumpat kan terminolohiya, hali sa Mother Tongue sa barrio school na (lu-ók), pasiring sa English idiom sa Jesuit school sa Bagumbayan na (cutting-class).

 In Ateneo, I hardly remember “buradol” being used to refer to cutting class. Back then, besides “cutting class,” there was another, more familiar term: “O.B.”, or “Over the Bakod.”  

This was when Ateneo boys, avoiding the guard house in front of the Four Pillars, were caught (skipping school by) climbing over the fence bordering barangay Sta. Cruz at the back of the Gym or the one in barangay Queborac on the other side, ironically near the old Jesuit Residence. Hidden best from the keen watch of the guards or even some school officials, these were the most strategic spots for O.B. 

 But I wonder if it were called “Over the Kudal,” it must have made it certainly “O.K.” 

 But since it was O.B., surely it became a problem, an “OBstruction,” especially if you were caught by Mr. Chancoco or Sir Gene Segarra of the OPD (Office of the Prefect of Discipline). 

 If you were caught on O.B., be prepared to do Jug and Post. Jug was when you were assigned to write a particular text on an unspecified amount of paper until you finished. Or until the day finished. Or until Mr. Chancoco or Mr. Segarra “closed shop.” Post was when you were tasked to do a community service of sorts inside the campus, like clean some office or help the Buildings and Grounds staff in their work.

Had done jug; had done post, (penalties for other misdemeanors) , but modesty aside: never done O.B. 

 Even now, I wouldn’t feel proud if I had done otherwise. There was simply no way I could have cut class in those days. “Tano man ta ma-LU-ÓK ako? O ma-buradol? O ma-O.B.? Pinapaadal na kong libre, madulag pa ko?” Saboot ko sana, “Siisay man an lúgi?”

 I mean: why leave the school, why go over the fence, when there was much to do then inside; when there was “everything to be” there, inside the fences (or more poetic: walls? portals?) of the Ateneo? 

 Well, those were the days before it became Ar’neo. Now I certainly wouldn’t know.

 Dangan, pag-abot sa college sa parehong eskwelahan, “cutting class” became an unacceptable term, almost non-existent, a misnomer, as it were. Especially when young adults, (but still teenagers: 17, eighTEEN, nineTEEN?) like us pursuing ‘higher’ learning became so engaged in studies, excited and can’t hardly wait for “life  to happen”. 

 In college, freedom from school (read: classroom instruction) was so enormous because the free cuts or three or four sessions per subject allowed us to attend to other non-academic interests like clubs, organizations, and...

 And of course, Batibot, the (octagon-shaped or circular) gazebo where student clubs, organizations and yes, fraternities and sororities converged. This was where we went when we felt we needed to take a break whenever we classmates or org-mates felt ‘stifled’ by the academic workload. This was also where we were invited to pursue all other sorts of (“bottled up”) interests outside the walls of the school.

 If we really had to cut class, it was more concealed subtly as “org meeting; may meeting kita sa org”. Or “research,” that ubiquitous, overrated word in college: “Sain kamo hali?” “Nag-research sa lib.” “Kamo?”  “Ma-research man.” 

 “Research.” What a word.

 “Research” or not, cutting class was not the term used. It was: Meeting, Practice, Tryouts. Or mobi. Or Rally. These were the other reasons for cutting class. Or availing ourselves of the three or four cuts allowed per subject. Of course, we were allowed all these; yet sometimes depending on the teacher, we squeezed them hard for allowances so that we ended up haggling with them.

 Well, “research” or not, it was easy to cut class in college.  Though as freshmen we belonged to a certain block section and had the same subjects and schedules, we could already choose what to attend and what not to attend.

 “Research” or not, it was rather really easier to cut class in college. Especially when we hadn’t done the assigned reading (which was simply Homework or Assignment or Takdang Aralin in kindergarten, grade school or high school). 

 Even if we chose not to attend a certain class or cut it short, it was needed because we were swamped by both academic and non-academic commitments we never knew we’d gotten ourselves into.

 “Research” or not, it was simply impossible to not cut class when you’re in college. To some, it was simply not cool, to have a perfect attendance in one class. But for others who vied for top honors, it was also unacceptable.

 “Cut class?” Hardly rings a bell. “O.B.”? Can’t relate; so, not applicable. How about college: we had “research,” “meetings,” and “more meetings” instead? So they were not “cutting classes”, as mentioned. They were rather more productive pursuits. 

 But to me, the first term I knew is always the most emphatic: “lu-ók”, or “naglu-ók”. It’s the first word I knew on this; but up till now it puzzles me where the word came from. 

 Saìn daw hálî an “lu-ók’?

 Makangirit tâ an mga teacher dai ta pwedeng sabihan na: “Naglu-ók si Ma’am kansuudma (Our teacher cut class yesterday)” o “Nagburadol baga si Sir (Our teacher went out, somewhere, probably to his ‘House by the Prairie’)”. 

Truth be told, kun mayo man maestrang “nagluluók”, ano an apod ta sa mga teacher na nagka-”cut class” man? (Nagpa-Naga kaya si Ma’am kansubâgo  ta nag-file nin salary loan sa Castea, o Camarines Sur Teachers Association. Palibhasa kulang an suweldo: anong magiginibo mo?) 

 So, ano an apod ta sa mga teacher na dai na tinapos si saindang klase?

 “Mayô daa si Ma’am.”

 “Yeheeey! Mayô si Ma’am! Uruliaaan!”

 

#BikolBeautiful