Don Quixote and Other Mid-70s Varron Tales

Psyche

Psyche is the managing editor of the Philippines Graphic, the longest-running and only weekly magazine in the country today that covers the news and promotes Philippine poetry and short fiction. A journalist by profession, Psyche taught news writing and editing for five years at the Journalism Department of the College of Mass Communication, University of the Philippines Diliman and served as media consultant for advocacy NGOs dedicated to environment protection, informal settlers’ welfare, and women issues. She studied B.S. Development Communication in UP Los Baños before shifting to B.A. Journalism in UP Diliman. Psyche is married to Ferdinand Mendoza.

Souvenir program cover designed by Kurde de Asis (Honorary Member ’90)

The poster did it.

On my way to an early dinner at the Student Union (S.U.) building canteen during the first semester of my sophomore year, I chanced upon this dark wood-and-glass-paneled bulletin board. Inside it was a small, hand-made poster of sorts: a drawing of a tree with spreading branches and the lines to a Stevie Wonder pop ditty –– “Like a branch on a tree I keep reachin’ to be free…”

It was 1977, the fifth year of Martial Law in the Philippines, and right in front of me was a message that hummed the restlessness and unrest of my generation.

John Lennon

UP Varrons Ltd. (UPVL) – Aggie Chapter, the organization that owned that politically seductive bulletin board, had very interesting, academically superior, politically aware, charismatic members who subscribed to the fashion style known as “proletarian chic.”

The Vrods –– mostly ascetic-looking, mostly thin, John Lennon-type activists who walked around campus in industrial t-shirts, faded denims, and the omnipresent “Dragon” thong rubber slippers –– were kind and patient to new applicants like myself.

Those rubber slippers got scrappy thin through constant use, so worn out you’d see a hole in the sole and yet, they were worn with pride by Vrods like Grand Varron Aris Sarmiento, Jun Perez, the late Ems Bautista, Nestor Apuya, Jojo Narag, and Philip Sarreal, to name a few.

Vrod Philip, editor-in-chief of UPLB Perspective and one of the youngest Agronomy lab instructors during my sophomore year, represented the young achievers in UPVL that included, among others, Sis Melin de la Peña, who topped almost every departmental exam in Crop Science; Sis Judith Uy, BMEG scholar and the second UPVL member to become editor-in-chief of UPLB Perspective; Sis Dix Bravo, Vrod Jess Espanto, and Sis Tess Dejelo. Actually, the list goes on and on and I apologize to those I may have missed mentioning.

And, of course, there is Sis Mae Macariola, the most courted Sis in UPVL-Aggie Chapter during the mid-70s.

Gonzales days

As a new applicant, I got to know the studious women members of UPVL who lived in that quaint apartment in Gonzales Compound: Sis Pola Credo, Sis Meklay (Pola’s real-life kid sister), Sis Elsie Salapare, and Sis Tess Harina, the love of Vrod Em’s life.

The apartment was the unofficial “soup kitchen” of the organization. Vrods could somehow get a free meal there if they suddenly found themselves short of cash. At least, that’s how I remembered it. I, too, enjoyed a free meal every now and then. Those women were so gracious and generous, even when it hurt their pockets.

Keepsakes

I am not known for being an attentive Varrons member. Over the years, I missed out on year-enders, Christmas get-togethers, and anniversary reunions. Call it financial constraints. A journalist’s salary does not give much opportunity for long trips and out-of-town social trysts.
But I have enough hoarded moments in my UPVL past life to play them in my mind when loneliness strikes, much like memory-triggered videos lighting up with the sights, sounds, and faces of Varrons Vrods and Sis.

In Gonzales, Vrods and Sis would gather; older and younger batches lazing around, playing scrabble or trading jokes. Pola and Tess forever peeling and counting beans on the table. “What’s it for?” I ask. “For our thesis,” they answer.

Vrod Aris expounding on the very interesting insect known as “baka-bakahan.” One of the new Vrods asks: “Where can you find these baka-bakahan, Vrod?” Aris replies: “Sa rancho-ranchohan.”

Vrod Nars Bajet prepping us freshmen and sophomore Vrods and Sis for tough Biology lecture exams, explaining the process of “dark and light reactions” in photosynthesis.

Dark, bespectacled, and quiet Vrod Ems going out to buy pandesal at two in the morning and brewing kapeng barako for dorm-based Sis like me who stayed the night at the Varrons org house in Bangkal to review for an exam. “Si Ems, hindi pumapasok pero 94 pa rin yan sa AE exam niya,” volunteers Vrod Jojo. “96 Vrod,” corrected Ems in a dead serious expression before his face dissolves in a cheeky grin.

Sis Evelyn Amit directing “Ubu,” a satire on the Marcos dictatorship, starring Vrods Leo Mendoza as a military interrogator, Abring (now Gabby) San Diego as a political prisoner, and Francisco Mayor, whose part I now forget. “Totortyurin kita nitong hetir!” Leo cries and Abring goes through comic spasms while Leo jams a water heater in his left armpit.

UPVL Aggie Chapter Vrods and Sis gathering at the side road between the Men’s and Women’s Dorms to wait for the UPVL Forestry Vrods and Sis led by Vrod Rod Fuentes for an org march to a university-wide protest action.

Ad astra per aspera

“To the stars, through difficulties,” this was the Varrons motto together with the “primacy of humane life for every man characterized by truth, love, justice, and freedom, the realization of which emanates from man’s awareness of the plight of his fellow man and his attempts to improve the state of mankind.”

We were students. We were activists. We were UPVL in the mid-70s, at the height of Martial Law. The flame of our ideals burst to a thousand scorching suns of protest, bringing an end to a dictatorship, but not before it snuffed out the life of Vrod Ems, he who belonged to the best and the brightest of UP at Los Baños.

And just as quickly as we burned, most of us (myself included) turned, and changed, no longer dreaming. No longer the flame that burned to the stars through difficulties. We moved on –– “like this tired, troubled earth, I’ve been rolling since my birth, moving on. Moving on…”

The poster did it.