UP

Landmarks

Until you spread your wings,
you will have no idea how far you can fly. - Unknown

I turn aside, peering out the bus window for a view of the two-lane University Avenue. The morning air is cool and crisp. I look at my watch. I should arrive in plenty of time for my 7:30 English class, I croon, my hands clasped prayerfully.

It's my first day as a freshman at the prestigious University of the Philippines. I draw a long breath, with a mixed feeling of pride and trepidation. It's Yupee, as Mummie says, stretching the words out, pronouncing each syllable with emphasis.

Top university, I whisper loudly to myself, in fair imitation of her voice. I try to be as nonchalant as possible even as I ruminate on how through the years, UP has produced an impressive number of the nation's presidents, political leaders, national artists, scientists, and other trail blazers who have shaped the country's history. 

At the end of the avenue, I see it, the monument and main symbol of the university. I yell cheerily, The Oblation! 

It's an eleven-and-a-half foot tall concrete sculpture of a man with outstretched arms and open hands in a forward stance of selfless dedication and service, tilted head, closed eyes, and parted lips murmuring what must be a prayer. He's naked, I whisper to myself bashfully. 

Closer up, I'm able to notice details that ordinarily will have escaped me - the soft, misty halo around the figure's bronze coloration and the rustic base on which it stands, a stylized rugged shape of my homeland archipelago, lined with big and small rocks, each of which represents an island. Actually, he's not starkly nude, I quickly correct myself as I spot the discreet fig leaf that covers his manhood. I smile sheepishly. 

Behind the Oblation, prisms of light in the east, the color of lemonade, are just beginning to poke through the huge pillars of Quezon Hall. The latter's open portico provides a view of the buildings beyond. I was just here a few days ago, I remind myself modestly, remembering how I traversed the suspended veranda that spans the north and south wings of the structure to have the registrar stamp 'Entrance Scholar' on my enrollment form. 

From this center front of the campus, the road turns on either side. Tall tamarind trees line the streets, their branches sometimes converging over like a canopy. As the bus loops around, time stretches out toward me. Everything seems big and slow. My eyes bug out in astonishment at the sight of 1,220 acres of infrastructure and colleges, two convocation halls, a carillon tower, a bowling hall, an A&W drive-in, barber shop, infirmary, two churches, several dormitories, the so-called Lovers' Lane walkway on a sunken lawn, the President's house, and faculty residential cottages - all in a forested setting.

So huge, I brightly comment. The woman seated beside me smiles at my eagerness. My gaze is lost in the immensity of the place and its sorcery of light.

The bus driver suddenly darts his head forward as he announces with flourish, Pavilion Four! I repeat happily, Pavilion Four, gesturing with my forefinger. Para! I summon the driver to stop. 

I cross the street toward the Arts and Sciences Building. I try to make my mind blank. I venture to imagine myself high, my senses light and soaring.

As I go up the fourth floor to my first class on my first day in the university, I feel my feet sprouting wings.