Gulaman, Dumbells and Boleros

Fr. Prudencio Macayan, S.J. passed away just a few days ago. In my 1st and only year of High School in Ateneo, he was my math teacher. A very stern and demanding one too.

He would grade an answer to question wrong if he couldn't understand the handwriting. He would not check the back of the paper for the rest of the answer to the questions (even if the questions he gave numbered in the 50s) if you didn't write "turn to the next page, please" at the bottom of the first page. He would go on a terrible tirade if you damaged any of the trees in the AHS area.

I just went to the AHS chapel and paid my respects. It's funny, but I still felt the remaining awe and deference to him as I stood beside his coffin. I was irrationally terrified that he would sit up and begin interrogating me on what I'd done with my life since he'd last seen me... peppering his speech with well worn pet phrases like "Are you a man, or a gulaman?", "Are you a dumbell, Mr. Osias.", or "I think you're all boleros."

Well, all I can think of is now that he's passed on... God help the folks who mess with the trees in the AHS. He's probably guarding them full time now.