OLPS BATCH ’87: LIKE BLOOD BROTHERS

“You come alive each time you dare to die, let go, move on, bid things goodbye.”

A member’s perspective by Renato Badong Marcial
(originally published in Sorsogon Today)

There could never be a group of people who once crossed paths, shared their dreams, laughter and tears, and emerged like blood brothers seventeen years after. I am referring to these young but not-too- old gentlemen who belong to Batch ’87 of the Our Lady of Peñafrancia Minor Seminary (OLPS), and I am proud to say that I am one of them.

The uniqueness of our brotherhood could be obviously noticed, especially during a get together (which we never fail to have, as if we always miss each other’s company) where each of us would eagerly share our experiences or whatever lessons of life that we think too important or worthy of sharing. But mostly, we end up laughing to our heart’s content as we reminisce our high school days in the seminary.

Looking back, we were then thin and gawky creatures from different walks of life, bolted from different towns of the province of Sorsogon, and who, by fate, were brought together after passing the entrance examination and other “predetermination” processes conducted by our OLPS formators, which signaled whether or not we were ready to serve God.

Initially, 31 young boys were chosen (as we were always made to believe then, the seminary’s dictum was: “Many are called, but few are chosen”), but unluckily, only 25 of us survived the four painstaking years of formation period through honing and discerning whether we were indeed those chosen few who would respond to the call of our vocation.

I remember that from the moment we were brought together, we could almost feel each other’s closeness and inseparability. In our junior year, we even came to the point of unanimously defying our senior seminarians’ policy of implementing the OLPS rules and regulations, just to prove to them how strong our bonding was. We were so vocal about our opposition to some policies which we thought were insignificant to our vocation, as if we knew everything as far as vocation and priesthood was concerned, the reason why our rector, then Rev. Fr. Francisco P. Monje, could not fathom our ideals. Only now did I realize why the latter would always tell us “Ingugulo-gulohan ako saindo!” No, not because we were cute boys then, but because we were so hardheaded, causing the good Fr. Monje to always blow his top.

I, too, remember when graduation day was about to unfold; we, the Batch’87, agreed to have a covenant that all of us 25 young boys would prove them wrong about their expectations and assessment of us. A childish agreement, if I may say now, for as if we were the ones designing our future. We agreed to make a difference in the history of OLPS: that all of us would pursue our vocation, and, in one ceremony, be ordained priests. By God’s mercy, only three of us went on to become priests!

There were so many things that we experienced in the portals of OLPS: lessons of life, struggles of friendship, and the essence of our existence. I’m sure each one of us will always treasure those things. While we never get tired of retelling those memories that we have gone through during our high school days, those once-in-a-lifetime experiences transformed us from once innocent, thin and awkward young boys to the mature, experienced and wiser adults (some already family men) that we are now.

Oh, we still show our child-like ways sometimes when we’re together, but that’s because we know that with each other, we don’t have to put our best foot forward nor put up a front. Batch ’87 members will always be accepting of one another’s weaknesses and inadequacies. Our bonding had become so intense as we were growing up - like that of blood brothers – and no amount of outside pressures can loosen or break this common tie.
We had our mistakes, brought by our youthful indiscretion and carelessness, but we certainly learned from them. The most important thing is: the brotherhood continues, and definitely will last our lifetime. And even beyond.

A Batch ’87 wife’s point of view by Agnes M. Paras – Marcial

If there are two things that I can say about this batch, it is that: first, they always find a reason to hold reunions, with or without occasion, whether only two or three can make it; and second, regardless of the occasion, they all end up talking about themselves and their high school days, always and without fail!

Seriously, they may be individuals very much different from each other in so many ways, but definitely, these dissimilarities are not a reason for them not to gel and form a lifelong bond.

I was first welcomed into the Batch ’87 fold in February of 1992, the year my then future husband introduced me to his high school friends as his girlfriend; months before that, I had already met some of them (a few of them were actually my elementary classmates in Colegio de la Milagrosa). Little did I know then that I would permanently be in contact with this group.

From that time on, my life had already gone through three phases, almost all spent with this by-now already familiar set of my husband’s HS buddies: single-blessedness, early married life with one kid, and married life with three kids.

I’ve passed through those stages and have seen their loyalty to and friendship with one another not diminished even a bit. We were together as single professionals in the prime of our youth enjoying the fruits of our labor – dined out, went to movies, gimmicks, etc. Been there, done that, so to speak.

Those carefree days are over, and almost half of these once untroubled and happy-go-lucky men have turned into involved and responsible husbands and fathers. Well, some are still enjoying their life as bachelors, but they are in constant touch with the group and join the reunions that are, this time, littered with children that come in all shapes and sizes and unique temperament! Hey, from whom did the kids get the latter? J

Expectedly, everyone is a ninong (and the wives, ninang) to each other’s offspring. In fact, they made this pact when they were all still single that each one would automatically become a ninong to any first-born child in the batch.

Now, after all these years, what good things came out of this already-tested friendship, absolute loyalty and both-in-good-times-and-bat-times-comradeship?

To mention only two: first, is that the batch has a support group to confide in and run to, aside from family members, whenever they have problems; and second, their wives and children benefit from this rare kind of closeness and camaraderie.

For the core group of the batch (meaning: those living in Sorsogon), this transforms into each member possibly doing things for each other’s family. Thus, it wasn’t surprising when Tato took Totep’s daughter Joseanne to the pediatrician while her father was confined in the hospital and another batch mate, Jay, watched over Totep, together with the latter’s wife, Janet.

The most important thing of all is that, during reunions (be it in a batch member’s house, in a rented cottage near the beach, or anywhere!), the children are brought together, and at such an early age, they get exposed to the very enriching experience of forging lifelong friendships. Our kids know each other and are “kuyas” and “ates” to each other. They play, watch TV together, and even fight with each other! And the wives? They are probably almost as united now as the husbands are!

Thus, without meaning to, the Batch ’87 members have passed on to their wives and children a very special legacy more precious than gold: the gift of friendship. To quote a text message I recently received: “Every good friend is a glimpse of God. He is one of life’s best blessings, a priceless gift that can never be bought, sold or forgotten.”

I’d like to especially mention that three members (Fr. Henry , Fr. Vicboy , and Fr. Dandy ) made it as priests and did the job of pursuing a religious vocation for the rest of the batch. One batch mate, Glenn Vergara, is still in the seminary, hoping to make the number of priests in the batch rise to four. Two are abroad (Dennis Son in Illinois and Rey Nicolas in New Jersey), but make it a point to reunite with their high school allies whenever they’re home in Sorsogon. Gilbert Cadiz, a personal friend long before I’d met the rest of the batch and whose writing style never fails to impress me, has expectedly taken writing as a career and is now with the Lifestyle section of The Philippine Daily Inquirer. Chito Haboc had already joined his Creator, but definitely, he will forever be in the hearts of his batch mates.

There’s a lot to be thankful for to the Lord Almighty for this exceptional gift of camaraderie. And the batch is hoping for more years of happy togetherness with their families. Indeed, it’s been 21 years since the members of Batch ’87 first got together as high school classmates in the hallowed halls of the OLPS. 21 years! And counting……