I WILL always try to make it home. Just this week, I had the pleasure of traveling to and from Manila and Baguio, four times. I just had to. Sunday, I went down, up Monday, then down again Tuesday and back Wednesday.
Last week was the Philippine Military Academy (PMA) Homecoming. I am an adopted member of the Maringal Class of 88. The senior host this year at 30 years. I being the only Baguio born thus far, immediately, I am part of the planned activities for the homecoming.
Just for this, I had had again the pleasure of coming to and fro from Baguio to Manila to discuss the faithful event held last week. In various occasions I am requested to take part in the planning of the said event to come home.
As early as last year the planning has already began, a task traditionally given for a host class. The junior host of 25 years and the 30 years their senior, who at this time are both still in active service.
Except of course those who have graduated in West Point or Annapolis.
The Class of 93 and 88 will host this year's homecoming. That I knew. I will march alongside my Bok's and Mistah's. All along the hollowed grounds of Borromeo Field in PMA. Yearly I will know of this, because during the Panagbenga month long celebrations, the third weekend is always dedicated to the men and women and their families to come home.
Timing is just perfect for me to enjoy all this after 30 years for this class. Except that it also coincided with a holiday declaration for Chinese New Year the Friday. Good for many as they being in active service will have all the opportunity to come home for this.
I am fortunate (or unfortunate) to be part of the homecoming. Being the only Baguio boy. I am suddenly significant for them to come home. I am called many times to go down Manila, and knowing me, will come back home immediately after the planning, or any meeting.
I learn too that on Saturday like always, a special breakfast, lunch picnic and dinner will ensue for the host classes. I however learn that the class of 93 will also share in all of this. Not that I don't want, but I would want for some exclusivity for my class. We are to share the mess hall, the Yap Hall for all this.
Upon discussions it was always how a shared scheme would be. Some temporary partition to divide the two classes from celebrating the homecoming. I learn of a quartet from Manila to come over together with a disc jockey for the fun part. I'm ok with anything.
I'm just an adopted member, a fraternal brother to them. I have no voice amongst this group, most of whom are now generals. I won't also talk for any of this, and who am I anyway.
It being a logistical nightmare of having a formal ceremony in the mess hall, problems suddenly come about. A wall to be made, sound proofing an issue for the acoustics of a quartet and the disco remembering the 80's. An LED screen plus the lights and sounds. All this suddenly dawns on them.
Suddenly this Baguio boy opens his big mouth and offers to help in all this, anyway he feels he is already honored to be one of them. I offer for help.
I explain that all the problems encountered during all our meetings can be avoided if only a different venue is present and not sharing a mess hall. I offer the University of Baguio for all this, especially the homecoming dinner, dance and a ring hop. Me and my big mouth - “ang yabang ko kasi.”
A sudden halt to all plans already made. They realize the logic. An emergency meeting is called, and already the class is abuzz from this. More meetings are called. I, now a part for all the meetings from this. I will drive down many times and always come home after.
It all comes out perfect. Even the color scheme of UB and PMA are the same. Gray.
I offer not a quartet but a full orchestra of 40 not 4. The university is complete with everything. Suddenly words are now actions. I am a very busy mistah. I am in charge of doing reservations here and there. Not as "utusan", I offer for all. I'm used to it being a former city mayor, it's just normal for me to attend to things this petty. Petty for me. It works fine for all. I showcase a gymnasium like no other. It is now home to PMA Class of 88. I see tears and a lot of laughter. Everyone of my mistahs enjoying the evening. I too of course. I just had to come home to all this. And in my own home. I am glad that they did too.
I was so at home, the 80's vibe, I even welcomed everyone of them like any host with entertainment from the Edralins upon entry to UB while having their pictures taken. Singing and dancing too upon exit from the gym. My home, now theirs. It is now past midnight.
I will come home after all this. And when I do come home my Mochi is always waiting for me to come home. Now I sit all alone back at home from all this. Alone with my Mochi, home.