Teacher Most Sublime

Jesse Cabanacan

I did not know much about her and most of what I know now about anything I may not have learned from her, but as sure as the sun rises in the east, she made it easier for me to understand and learn.

I remember the very first day I met her in grade school. Being then of young mind and utterly lacking of discernment I failed to grasp that what was in front of me was the very definition of class and sophistication. But now my recollection of that first sight of her in grade school is completely devoid of any doubt. There she was so immaculate, as I now reminisce that encounter so vividly in my memory. And she had the grace, poise and elegance of the Queen of England!

She was my first grade teacher, and that was the only thing I knew about her then.

I do not remember much about my first day in grade school but I do recall walking for the first time along the path that I would follow for the next six years. It was a leisurely walk from the house I grew up in along Candaza Street heading west towards Real, now Penaranda Street. Today the smell of copra[1] still evokes memories of childhood felicity, for it was at this junction where I would pass along beds of copra drying under the intense heat of the sun, right on the road in front of the warehouse leased by our revered local Chinese copra trader. So it was also that this intersection marked the unofficial westerly boundary of our neighborhood playground, where at times we would pick up slices of copra as substitute snack food, quickly to satisfy any hunger pangs while at play. But I digress.

I did not know much about her but I was to find out rather quickly that the appearance which so electrified and awed me came with a creative mind and a passionate desire for helping young minds learn. In her classroom, decorum was the order of the day, the better to induce the mind to its proper focus and promote an environment conducive to learning. To learn the ABCs, children must first be trained to conduct themselves, a simple yet effective premise she imparted unwritten and unspoken.

The path that took me to school for the six years of grade school, I would walk twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon. There was the mid-day walk back home for lunch and then back to school after lunch, when the extreme tropical heat was at its peak. Today, most kids dare not walk but instead take the sikad-sikad[2] to school, a sign of progress or a misguided sense of priorities. I have neither the courage nor the pre-eminence to be judgmental.

Though I did not know much about her my curious little mind deduced that she was firm but fair. It was not her nature to embarrass any of her misbehaving pupils in front of the class. First the unruly one would be at the receiving end of “the stare.” When that didn’t work he would be pulled aside and admonished in a tone neither loud nor demeaning, such a rebuke done in a manner that a first grader would understand as to why the specific misbehavior was considered intolerable. But the stare, menacing yet not disparaging, worked most of the time, its laser-like precision cutting short any tomfoolery in progress. I know whereof I speak for not just once was I the subject of both corrective remedies.

After the left turn on Real Street from Candaza, my slow walk to school would take me to the plaza[3] adjoining Real and Mabini streets. I would bear right onto the diagonal path that cut through the plaza to the intersection of San Francisco and Mabini streets. I would then proceed along Mabini all the way to Arellano, where I would make a left turn towards Veyra Street, now Delgado Avenue, from where the school would be in sight. I would take the same direction in reverse on the way back home. I will remember this route through senility but what is most memorable is the short cut along the diagonal path through the plaza.

I still did not know much about her but she was one who saw the good in you and believed that you could do better. She inspired you towards perfection but recognized your limitation as well. And it is only now that I realize how she believed that before you could exploit your strengths you must first understand your weaknesses, truly one of the traits that made her teaching so effective. She had the distinctive ability to describe things from faraway places all over the world with such eloquence it made you feel you were at the very same place being described and made you believe she had been there, though she had not. She worked your imagination, and for the young mind there could be nothing better for its enhancement.

What made that short walk through the plaza most memorable was the work of my fertile imagination. Though I was always aware of the potential risk to bodily harm posed by the grazing horses, I always found comfort at the thought that my maternal grandparents lived just across the street from it. My grandfather, short of formal education but full of worldly wisdom, was a formidable source of strength for me. But that is for another topic for another day. The plaza was hallowed ground for legend has it that it used to be a cemetery in the early days of our town. Bereft of any markers one was left to imagine who could have been buried there and when. It was this walk that at times I beckoned the spirit of unknown ancestors to help me and guide me through the day. And it was on these walks that I would imagine things I would do someday, perhaps riding a horse like a knight in shining armor. But again I digress.

Though I did not know much about her, I know she taught me many things, from the mundane to the most meaningful. She taught me the King’s English as it should be written and spoken. It was from her that I first received formal instruction in my second language. Whether by sheer luck or stroke of fate, she was also my English teacher in sixth grade. Like an expert carpenter, she taught me how a sentence, from simple to complex, was constructed, every part and its utility and purpose clearly explained. I learned how to dissect every part and section of a complete sentence like a medical student dissecting a frog. And I’ll let you be the judge, for modesty precludes me, as to how effective she was.

After almost 20 years of dedicating her life to molding, cultivating and educating young minds, I suppose she decided it was time to redirect her efforts towards a better life for herself and seek greener pasture. So it was that at the age of 41 she left the small town she so loved and an enviable profession she was so good at to migrate to the United States. I was in high school by then but still a great loss she was to my grade school, Barugo Central Elementary School. She worked and settled in the windy city of Chicago, Illinois, where she eventually retired.

Almost every year from the mid-1980s through the mid-1990s, I attended the annual convention in Chicago of the American College of Healthcare Executives, a professional organization I used to be affiliated with as a Diplomate when I was still active in the military healthcare arena. It was not until sometime in the mid-1990s when I finally found enough courage to call and tell her that I was in town for the week. She graciously invited me for dinner and was kind enough to pick me up from my hotel. I still remember the chicken and pork adobo[4] she prepared for the occasion but, no, that was not the highlight of the evening. It felt so surreal, for here I was having dinner with, well you just have to trust me, the Queen! Reality check has it that I have a better chance of either winning the lottery or being hit by lightning than being invited to Buckingham Palace in this lifetime for tea with Queen Elizabeth. But I can tell you that in her modest abode that very evening it felt like I was in Buckingham Palace chitchatting with the Queen about my family and career. I was in teacher heaven!

There are people around you who greatly affect your life such as your parents, siblings and close friends. And you know a whole lot about them. Some people you may not get to know much about, yet they have a very profound impact on your life. She was one of those people. She played a major role in that chapter of my formative years that carried all the way to what I am today. Outside of my parents, immediate family and close friends, she had the most influence in my life. I am what I am today because she stood for what she was.

She was my teacher[5] in first grade.

Genoveva A. Ayuste.

There are a few things I know about her now. Members of her immediate family tell me that she was born January 3, 1930. I learned from them how she cared so much for her nieces and nephews, and how they miss her. Not surprisingly, she was to them an extraordinary person.

On December 17, 2003, two weeks shy of her 74th birthday, she succumbed to breast cancer.

Ms. Genoveva A. Ayuste, teacher most sublime.

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Notes:

[1] Copra is “the dried sections of the meaty inner lining of the coconut palm. It is the principal commercial product derived from the coconut palm, and is used primarily as a source of coconut oil.”

[2] Sikad-sikad is the local name for the pedicab or pedal powered vehicle. In the Waray-Waray or Leynete-Samarnon dialect, “sikad” means kick.

[3] In Barugo, Leyte, the vacant lot occupying almost the entire block along Penaranda (formerly Real) Street, between Candaza and Mabini streets, is known as the plaza. This open space, covered in carabao grass, served as the training ground for high school students of Leyte Institute conducting drills for the required military training in the high school curriculum. Most other times, it served as the grazing ground for local horses, cows and goats. Legend has it that it used to be the town cemetery in the early days of Barugo.

[4] In Filipino cuisine, according to Ambeth Ocampo in his article “Looking Back: ‘Adobo’ in Many Forms,” (PDI, 2/24/09) adobo refers to a common and very popular cooking process indigenous to the Philippines. Typically, pork or chicken, or a combination of both, is slowly cooked in soy sauce, vinegar, crushed garlic, bay leaves and black peppercorns.

[5] My other teachers in grade school, all good and competent, were: Mrs. Maria M. Astorga, Mrs. Agatona Estil, Mrs. Esperanza Escober, Mrs. Francisca Caneda, Mr. Natividad Gobenciong, Mrs. Aurora Escober, Mr. Abdon Acuin, Ms. Francisca Caneda, and Mrs. Anita Celestino.