Shall We Meet at, Say, Tomorrowish?

August 13, 2012

It's just another evening. We came to the internet cafe somewhere between 7 and 7:30PM, not really caring exactly where the minute hand fell within that window of time.  That's a reflection of our lifestyle; of the Philippine lifestyle, actually. In this age of precision and exactitude, with atomic clocks that err no more than a second a year, a sundial would be too much accuracy - a show of obsession about time - for most Filipinos. In fact, meetings are made for morning, afternoon or evening, or after one of the three major meals, with no mention of time.

We have attended PTA meetings for Clyde, Jan Mark, Frederick and Gabriel, and grade report meetings for those same boys, as well. On one of our first such attendances, the meeting was scheduled for 1PM at Kabatuan School. At 2PM, Emelie was still relaxing on the porch with a cup of coffee, while listening to the drama that drones on for hours from morning till late afternoon, 6 days a week. I asked her if we were still going to the school for the meeting. She said that, indeed, we were. Then she was silent, as if the subject was given all the attention it needed. 

"Well," I said, "Shouldn't we be going then? It's two PM now!"

She looked at her watch and yawned. "No hurry." She said. "It won't get started till at least three."

At 3PM, Emelie again looked at her watch. She got up slowly, walked to the bedroom and began to undress. I watched with interest, not knowing if she was planning a nap or a change of clothes. Half dressed, she stood still as a statue for a minute and half, and looked as if she was dreaming of far away places and times.

When I asked if we shouldn't be hurrying just a little, her reply was, "I don't want to be one of the first ones there!"

As it turned out, we weren't the first. We were numbers 5 and  6. When we walked into the classroom where the meeting was to be held, the principle was adjusting the microphone volume on his PA system while chatting leisurely with several of his teachers. The others, parents and guardians who were brash enough to show up earlier than we did, were slumped at child-size desks and fanning themselves to blow around the hot air.

Forty five minutes later, the meeting started. Sort of. The exact beginning could not be pinned down, as it began with a discussion of motherhood, tree planting and the nutritional value of certain foods. Given enough latitude, all of these subjects could be said to occupy a place on the periphery of school-related topics.

Gradually, the real meat of school issues began to trickle into the conversation and by 6PM, we were right in the thick of it. Facts and figures flew up on the chalk board. Money, times, dates, grades, attrition rates, etc. It was all there! Elsie was in the top ten but not in the top five. Johnny moved up three positions since last grading period but had not met his goal of surpassing Edna by two positions because Edna had moved up herself. Jan Mark had a perfect attendance record, even though the only class he attended was lunch, The rest of the time, he could be found sitting under the cigarillo tree, doodling in one of his notebooks while resting his head on the pile of school books that he was assigned. Six students departed - though no one died - and one student came back, in his thirties, to finish second grade. A round of applause for all of them.

The end of the meeting was as ambiguous as the beginning. I suppose it was marked by the moment when the first group of late arrivals suddenly rose and walked out, after which, others seemed to spontaneously arise and walk out the door, as well. It was like being at a revival meeting, where the spirit moved a person, but the movement was always in the direction of the exit. Shortly after, the principle himself laid down his microphone and walked out. That was my cue. I rose to leave, intending to follow on his heels, but my wife grabbed my arm and said, "Sit down. It's not over yet."

When I looked at her quizzically, she added, "He just went to pee."

Sure enough, he came back, looking relieved and refreshed; ready for a new onslaught, I'm sorry to say. That man must have read every book on winning friends and influencing people, against their will, but with their full cooperation and a smile to boot.

It ended, eventually. We left.