ang badlungon nga babaye

by Jona Branzuela Bering

“Hoy asa imong sapatos?” Kuya Eleccion, one of the guards feigned anger upon seeing me comfortably sporting on loafers for the nth times.

“Nag-una K’ya. Tu-a na sa office.” I grinningly coaxed and gave him the peace sign.

He bartered a smile yet had a disapproving look on his face.

Others may take this as a radical action but nah, for some clumsy health issues I have to shun away from high-heeled shoes. A frail apology for not wearing shoes, nonetheless.

But indeed, Dr. Sol Gallon labeled me as badlungon nga babaye. He once reprimanded me since I had not passed the necessary papers for my teaching apprenticeship (two-month late by the way) and he learned from his colleagues that I didn’t attend my classes regularly. (I was wrong with my calculations then, I thought my professors were absent. My bad :C)

I was not proud of my person.

I know am not a good student but I know I am a good learner. I learned I am not a good student.

Don’t get me wrong.

I am not aiming for some encyclopedic wisdom: understanding puzzling algebraic equations; memorizing dates like when did Napoleon exiled at Alba (I loved my history teacher though, since he never dealt with such unnecessary dates); feeding my neurons with who’s who in the literary circle were my four-year food that sometimes I forgot to chew. The outcome---my grades suffered from indigestion.

Junasis, our Filipino Ed noted that I will be wearing my toga soon.

“Hopefully!” I beamed.

He heartily laughed with Karina, the future Feature Ed.

Hey, did I say something wrong or funny perhaps?

Ugh, I was not joking. I haven’t passed my application for graduation yet while my classmates already had. Much more, my prospectus screamed that I have a no-grade

subject course.

Oh com’on, don’t give me that look. I already said that I am not a good student, didn’t I?

Academically, I sucked, among other things.

I got a cebuano-visayan subject yet Kevin Lagunda, our literary ed served as my mentor since I was busy with my thoughts when my professor discussed the equivalent word for essay in cebuano.

I doubted if my linguistic skills made a difference.

And yes, Junasis was right. I can smell March right under my nose like a rotten canal rat.

And if the one peeping above will allow it; I will march at the hallway of the Social Hall with stupid grin planted on my lips. And my toga will surely dance with the talisay-breezed air.

PS. This was written on December 17, 2007. The badlungon nga babaye will not be gone yet. She will take her MA here, in case she will acquire a grade on Principles on Teaching. Not lower than flat-nosed three for that matter.