How I Got Out of UP: A Buwis-Buhay Tale of Survival
Nope, sorry to burst your bubble, but this shall not be a sentimental, oh-I'm-graduating kind of post. As the title suggest, this is to narrate how I got out of UP tonight.
I arrived at the Film Center around 11:30 p.m., tired and irritable, after fetching the neon lights and transformers for the stage set-up in Cubao. What should have been a good fifteen minute trip turned into a one-hour and a half nightmare, thanks to The Script fans clogging every side street within a 10 km radius of Araneta Coliseum. Adding to my burden was the noisy driver who kept on complaining he was running out of LPG and the two manongs with me whom I secretly thought were mocking my English.
I arrived to see Dean Tolentino and Prof. Banal sipping two cold bottles of San Miguel. I courteously bade them farewell, and made a mental note to grab a Red Horse at Ministop before hitting the sack tonight.
The streets of Diliman were empty: it was way past 10 p.m. There were no jeepneys or even private vehicles in sight. I flexed my arms and proceeded to trudge toward Roxas Street (CHE), which I figured out was the only gate still open in the campus. This would lead me out to UPIS, and then to Katipunan Avenue.
So I walked from Film Center to CHE, walking in the middle of the roads, hugging myself and thinking various emo thoughts. As I neared Educ, I heaved a sigh of relief. It was a pretty long walk, after all.
Then my luck runs out. The said gate was already padlocked.
I ransacked my mind. That would mean the only remaining gate open would be...University Avenue. Hell, I couldn't walk that far anymore! Aside from th possibility of meeting ghouls and possibly lovers making out along the Academic Oval, I was hungry, thirsty, and in dire need to pee. Serious.
Shuster Street was the next possibility, but my last encounter with said gate was less-than-spectacular, and I figured I gained too much weight in order to reprise said encounter (almost exactly a year ago I crawled under the gate late one evening, because I was too wobbly and tipsy to climb over, to the amusement of leering tricycle/jeepney drivers who held terminal on the other side of the gate who didn't even bother helping me up).
So I made up my mind to climb the gate.
I wasn't drunk that time, but after the following set of events I really wish I were.
I sized up the gate I was supposed to scale. It was pretty "climbable," I figured. I had no bag with me. All I had to do was to get a good step on the concrete wall beside it and give myself a good push, then over the pointy spikes, then slowly descend. Hmmmm.
There was no barbed wire to mutilate me, but there were pointy spikes that comprised the upper part of the gate. I examined them and touched them. Hmmmm, pointy indeed.
I stood there for a few minutes like an idiot, still hesitating whether I wanted to make a spectacle of myself sprawling on Katipunan Avenue when suddenly, out of nowhere, a guy effortlessly climbed over the gate from Balara and into UP. I pretended to look away but from the corner of my eye I stealthily observed him while I mentally copied his gate-climbing moves.
And they wonder why the campus is filled with hooligans. Meh.
So it was my turn. I gave myself a boost up, steadied myself atop the concrete wall, grasping the chainlink fence that was atop the wall.
Steady, steady.
I positioned my left foot on the upper part of the gate and began to slowly climb down the other side. Problem was, my sneaker got stuck in the said part of the gate. That's where my troubles began.
As I silently cursed myself while I tried to unwedge my shoe, I began to lose balance so I gripped those pointy things, scratching my palms. It didn't help I was wearing 3/4 hip-hop shorts that didn't cling to my body properly and therefore got in the way of my movement. I heard a crack as my shorts RIPPED. In the middle.
I must've looked hilarious, attached to the top of the Roxas Avenue gate like Spiderman, except stupider and more physically inept.
I was already getting down when I felt a struggle behind me. My shirt was stuck. On those pointy things. I tried getting it off, but it turns out it was practically WRAPPED around the gate. I already saw the pointy thing penetrated on the fabric, so now there was a one-centimeter hole on my poor shirt.
"Off, off!" I whispered as I struggled to get my shirt off without completely tearing it out. Finally I managed to unhook it and down I went, losing my balance at the bottom and falling in a heap.
I felt stinging on both my arms and discovered I also scratched my two forearms as well extracting my stuck t-shirt. So I was bleeding too. Thanks.
So yes folks, I can say that I've climbed UNDER and OVER perimeter fences attempting to exit U.P. This was definitely one of the moments I regretted not bringing the car to school.
As I was sitting in the tricycle (there were no more jeepneys as well in Balara), enduring a bumpy ride to McDonald's and feeling the cool wind coagulate the blood on my arms, I thought, rather seriously: ayaw ba talaga akong pakawalan ng UP?
Happy graduation everyone.
I arrived at the Film Center around 11:30 p.m., tired and irritable, after fetching the neon lights and transformers for the stage set-up in Cubao. What should have been a good fifteen minute trip turned into a one-hour and a half nightmare, thanks to The Script fans clogging every side street within a 10 km radius of Araneta Coliseum. Adding to my burden was the noisy driver who kept on complaining he was running out of LPG and the two manongs with me whom I secretly thought were mocking my English.
I arrived to see Dean Tolentino and Prof. Banal sipping two cold bottles of San Miguel. I courteously bade them farewell, and made a mental note to grab a Red Horse at Ministop before hitting the sack tonight.
The streets of Diliman were empty: it was way past 10 p.m. There were no jeepneys or even private vehicles in sight. I flexed my arms and proceeded to trudge toward Roxas Street (CHE), which I figured out was the only gate still open in the campus. This would lead me out to UPIS, and then to Katipunan Avenue.
So I walked from Film Center to CHE, walking in the middle of the roads, hugging myself and thinking various emo thoughts. As I neared Educ, I heaved a sigh of relief. It was a pretty long walk, after all.
Then my luck runs out. The said gate was already padlocked.
I ransacked my mind. That would mean the only remaining gate open would be...University Avenue. Hell, I couldn't walk that far anymore! Aside from th possibility of meeting ghouls and possibly lovers making out along the Academic Oval, I was hungry, thirsty, and in dire need to pee. Serious.
Shuster Street was the next possibility, but my last encounter with said gate was less-than-spectacular, and I figured I gained too much weight in order to reprise said encounter (almost exactly a year ago I crawled under the gate late one evening, because I was too wobbly and tipsy to climb over, to the amusement of leering tricycle/jeepney drivers who held terminal on the other side of the gate who didn't even bother helping me up).
So I made up my mind to climb the gate.
I wasn't drunk that time, but after the following set of events I really wish I were.
I sized up the gate I was supposed to scale. It was pretty "climbable," I figured. I had no bag with me. All I had to do was to get a good step on the concrete wall beside it and give myself a good push, then over the pointy spikes, then slowly descend. Hmmmm.
There was no barbed wire to mutilate me, but there were pointy spikes that comprised the upper part of the gate. I examined them and touched them. Hmmmm, pointy indeed.
I stood there for a few minutes like an idiot, still hesitating whether I wanted to make a spectacle of myself sprawling on Katipunan Avenue when suddenly, out of nowhere, a guy effortlessly climbed over the gate from Balara and into UP. I pretended to look away but from the corner of my eye I stealthily observed him while I mentally copied his gate-climbing moves.
And they wonder why the campus is filled with hooligans. Meh.
So it was my turn. I gave myself a boost up, steadied myself atop the concrete wall, grasping the chainlink fence that was atop the wall.
Steady, steady.
I positioned my left foot on the upper part of the gate and began to slowly climb down the other side. Problem was, my sneaker got stuck in the said part of the gate. That's where my troubles began.
As I silently cursed myself while I tried to unwedge my shoe, I began to lose balance so I gripped those pointy things, scratching my palms. It didn't help I was wearing 3/4 hip-hop shorts that didn't cling to my body properly and therefore got in the way of my movement. I heard a crack as my shorts RIPPED. In the middle.
I must've looked hilarious, attached to the top of the Roxas Avenue gate like Spiderman, except stupider and more physically inept.
I was already getting down when I felt a struggle behind me. My shirt was stuck. On those pointy things. I tried getting it off, but it turns out it was practically WRAPPED around the gate. I already saw the pointy thing penetrated on the fabric, so now there was a one-centimeter hole on my poor shirt.
"Off, off!" I whispered as I struggled to get my shirt off without completely tearing it out. Finally I managed to unhook it and down I went, losing my balance at the bottom and falling in a heap.
I felt stinging on both my arms and discovered I also scratched my two forearms as well extracting my stuck t-shirt. So I was bleeding too. Thanks.
So yes folks, I can say that I've climbed UNDER and OVER perimeter fences attempting to exit U.P. This was definitely one of the moments I regretted not bringing the car to school.
As I was sitting in the tricycle (there were no more jeepneys as well in Balara), enduring a bumpy ride to McDonald's and feeling the cool wind coagulate the blood on my arms, I thought, rather seriously: ayaw ba talaga akong pakawalan ng UP?
Happy graduation everyone.