by PJ Arañador

CPU Development High School Batch 1977 held one of their reunions at CPU last February 22, 2024.

For the past 2 days this February 2024, our classmates from the USA, Canada, Australia and some from Europe, mostly from the Philippines, gathered for a reunion in Iloilo City and Guimaras.

Our high school at Central Philippine University (CPU), an American school in foundation, was the first development high school in Western Visayas. So why development high school intrigued me until now.

We remember we had the first National College Entrance Exam (NCEE) ever conducted in the country in order to develop high school students to proceed to college for baccalaureate degrees of their choice.

Our high school principal who graduated her masters from Fresno State University in California gathered our class section to announce our passing scores in NCEE. We were crossing our fingers we could pass because the exam was tough. She was a person of few words often with just a rare hint of a smile half her amiable face. We thought at that time that our principal will break it to us gently…like the title of a song popular at that time.

So, it was announced, gently, as wished for. Eureka, 100% passed the exam at perfect scores of 99.95% grades! It was the first time we saw our principal with the fullest smile on her face.   It blew her mind away! It was a feat. We did not celebrate it though, as if it was no big deal. Weren’t we snubs? Having our costume parties or getting our banana cue afternoon snack along with our sports and creative extracurricular activities were the bigger deal.

CPU high school life is the best. It was that time of our lives where we weren’t stressed with harsh realities of life. Topping it all, it taught us how to be Christians without being sectarians. We became always prayerful.  Always thankful. Always thoughtful.

At the reunion, we never forget to pray before, during and after and we prayed, too, for classmates gone before us. Singing our dear Central school song was always emotional even beyond the convocations at Rose Memorial Hall.

High school life at CPU was lazy afternoons at Half Moon Drive on group dates seated on ever- green grasses just talking about simple topics or watching while cheering the boys playing football. No cellphones. No Facebook.

There was Kahig Brothers, the brotherhood that stood until today supported by the batch, boys and girls alike. The obsession for handmade Antonio Ang single toe sandal we hide in our schoolbags because we were allowed shoes for school only. Our lady class president was fond of it, so the herd followed.

There was no internet. No TikTok. There was only slam book to write our favorite color, motto, ambition and a quote in life. Yes, only handwritten love letters, too — often secretly tucked in Cattleya notebook of a shy classmate from an equally shy admirer.

Our high school life was full of friends who talked about our science or drama clubs, prayer meetings,  University day, dancing and singing and American  bell choir practice, some basketball or volleyball, others ping pong or softball, mostly football,  others chit-chat  about the next class projects or even well, our  first time crushes. Our puppy love. There were no marites. Only storytellers. Only sweet nothing.

There was no stressful work, no major duties or no enormous responsibilities, as far as we can remember, except may be doing practical arts classes by metal  tapping iron sheets into artworks. We needed to run across the huge football field to an obscure building near the Fine Arts building. Well, the boys helped the girls, so they were not stressed.

We now remember how high school life was after all, the easiest part of our education. And it just went too fast.

Our batch has produced doctors, lawyers, accountants, nurses, entrepreneurs, teachers, engineers, civil service professionals, government office chiefs, corporate leaders, writers, realtors, evangelists, a chef, a general, name it. Oh yes, Mr. Football Philippines. An international designer, too.

Notches higher, the recently elected CPU President who came from our immediate junior batch is an honor. He joins as a Filipino among the long history of American university presidents.  He too joined us in our revelry and listened to each one of us where one was in the past and where each is going.  The rare listening ears were glued to each one immensely.

Those jolly days at high school were reflected in our recent reunion. We were clustered from sections A to E at Mary Thomas Hall which we visited while looking for our amoeba shaped garden pond already gone near our chemistry and physics rooms.

At the celebration, there was no section clusters anymore instead we were reunited as one  with only our memories put together in a gathering. Never mind the white hair or memory lapses. The footsteps which were a bit broken than smooth. Never mind if some are still single or still looking!

Our teachers joined us to party who can still remember us. They were quick to notice that our hairs were thinning out and our bellies were bigger.  But our heart to serve are much fluttering.

Our recent high school reunion was the point where we even became more binded like sticky rice.  I guess it’s the soul of longing for our younger days that we can always be ourselves. No pretentions. No titles. No ego. Just being innocent.

At the reunion, we laughed at ourselves. We slept in one room like we were 18 years old again. We knew who snored. We knew who slept early. Or slept upside down! We knew who woke up too early for breakfast when the restaurant was still closed. The coffee drinkers or the tea lovers revealed when we had Mirinda or Sarsi in those days. We too knew who had a dozen maintenance pills to gorge in the morning!

Like high school dreamers, we danced in our Hawaiian attire hosted by US based classmates. Our appreciation, dear ones. We played games even though our bones could crack in a limbo rock game. Some young legs still showed. Others wobbled but never tumbled.

We guessed retro music in a game like we were from the neanderthal age. Xanadu? El Bimbo?  Telephone? Those who won cash gave them away anyway or pay our jeepney fare. That’s true love of classmates.

We lined up for chocolates from the U.S. beating kindergarten kids in excitement. We were on top of each one scoping for US dollars and some Euros with laddles to a tray, coaching our classmates while faking their senses for more giggles.

We twirled in hola hoops using our heads instead because the waistlines were already too frigid.   We danced the night away with two left feet under the stars. We thought it should never end.

But it did.

Our core group organizer did well. So did our classmates survive through the event too well with no request for a stretcher!

Before departing ways, we agreed the core organizer will carry on our next reunion plan in 3 years’ time, the gold edition. The sticky rice edition I must say.

We always will find time to attend reunions because one of the secrets of longevity and keeping ourselves young is to socialize, dine, talk and laugh with people. Pray together.

Reunions are getting out of our daily spaces and look at the world, even discover our little neighborhood destinations will sharpen our mind. Most of all, the conversations. Else, we will forget things.

So, we suggested ten ways to make it again in 3 years’ time for all of us to gather again once more.

First one was to keep the same core group organizer. Second to tenth suggestions…err…hmmm…err…we forgot!!!

Thank you, classmates, too many to mention, for the camaraderie. We sustain our love of our high school life.  God be with us.

*CPUHS Class 77 has an endowment fund for scholarship for our select classmates’ children in the past many years. It is planning to embark on grassroots clinic in training kids to excel in football with our batch having the finest football athletes CPU HS has produced.  We do not only party; we also partake to make other lives better.