This is a recovery tale. Although some facts have been tweaked and changed in order to protect confidentiality, this remains a true-to-life story. This anecdote documents the many special challenges of a person in recovery as he slowly reintegrates himself into society – back to school after many years. Academic survival has been met with patience and a whole lot of humor. Here is his story.
I’m still waiting for news from a local university. I just got done with my written exams almost a month ago. Two weeks ago, I went through my oral exams and interview.
This is one instance when no news is not good news. I’m wondering now how I did in the oral exams and interviewer. The oral exam' were like psychological tests. I sat alone with my examiner as she tested my memory, logic, verbal comprehension, picture interpretation, and facility with languages. This she did for a good half-hour. Then I was told to exit the room and to enter immediately mto the next. And there they sat: the Bald Pinoy from Manila, the huge beaky Nose from the Netherlands, and the gray-haired Spinster from Brussels, Belgium.
I thought as I eased into the chair in font of them, “Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker... or, more like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum with tweedle-dame...” hahaha
They were mean, they really-needled it in. Bald Erup asked, “I am d that because of your age, you might condescend on your much younger classmates; what do you think about that?”
My recovering brain screamed: “?Ant do I think about that? %hat do you mean, ‘because of my age’? l think you have very little body hair Mister Regroe of Mani4, and that belies your elderly station, something that is ‘because of your age,’ that’s what I honestly think.’*
I cleared my throat, reclaimed my sobriety, and then I asked, “Don’t you think I’m the one who must basically be scared of them, the young ones, I mean? After all, they’re stinger, fasts and supposedly sharper than I am. Because of my age I am weaker, slower and less techno-savvy. To the contrary, don t you think there is every possibility I will be the one to be condescended upon?”
Bald looked at me intently. He was searching my face for sarcasm. I guess he found none became he grinned and nodded. He could relate, I guess, to (he notion of his generation –which is far older than mine- 4gpng behind so many technical advances of the much younger set.
It was Netherlander Nose’s turn. He pulled a sheet from an envelope, wagged it in my face, and asked, "Do you know what this is?" I said yes after giving the document minimum scrutiny. It was a copy of m answer sheet in the written examinations.
“You, left a significant number of b4nks in your answer sheet. Please explain,”
My inner scream went, “Duuuh! Haven’t you been listening to Bald Erap? Aren’t you aware? It’s all because of my age, remember? Because of my age, I’m slower, I’m enfeebled, and I possess little skill in commandeering a lowly musical calculator.” This paranoia about my age was starting to get to me.
I cleared my throat again, mustered some patience (something I learned in rehab) and said, “I guess I didn't manage my time very well. I had a bit of trouble getting through the fine fonts of your questionnaire. I made a mental note of this during the written exams but I have yet to have my vision re-examined. I'm rusty and my mind is not as sharp anymore. I can’t do complicated summations off the cuff like 1 used to. Time has taken its toll on me.”
“I see,” the Nose muttered with a thick European accent. Then he spoke again. “But you have one of the highest scores anyway. This is one reason why we fear you might simply condescend to the younger generation in your class *’
There we go again with all these references to the younger generation and to my age. You*re triggering my own paranoia, I thought. Oh somebody kill me already! Still, I braced myself and said aloud, “If you must know, sir, l have nephews and nieces anywhere from 7-14 years old. I learn more from them than they can ever learn from me. They are my best teachers.’*
Now it was the Belgian Spinster’s turn. “You’ve been out of school for so long. Why return now after almost 20 years of being out of schools?"
"Why not?,"I asked her back. But the once-and-future-out-of-school-youth that I am (youth daw oh, kapal ko talaga, hahaha) was hearing a ringing in his ears. My self-talk was now awfulizing. This is really bad, my brain said, these people seem to have something against me being back to school at my age. ‘This is all part of my sobriety plan,” was the first thing I instinctively wanted to tell her but I held back.
“I actually miss the academe,” I muttered instead. “Having an MBA was actually one of my dreams when I was younger. I once wanted to quit medical school in favor of business school but my parents strongly disapproved. All I simply want to do now is to fulfill a dream I ha.d long ago.”
“Despite the expenses?" Belgian Spinster questioned.
“Yes, absolutely,” I said. “A dream delayed is a dream denied. I cannot delay this dream any further.”
“Despite the company: of people who will be much much younger than you? In Netherlands and Brussels you will be boarding with your classmates,...” And I thought she was the kinder one! Here, once a, I thought my age was going to fail me. “Your group-mates will probably be out partying while you’ll probably be doing your homework. What do you feel about that?” Belgian Spinster asked again.
"Happy,” I answered without thinking. “That means I have the dorm all to myself,” I said jokingly. “Seriously, I am neither a geek nor a nerd and I do enjoy parties, however, too much of a good thing is bad and .-elf-destructive. I guess what we can all do is to respect each other’s cares and limitations.”
Bald Erap asks: “Would you enjoy working with a multi-national crowd?”
Most definitely,” I answered. “I will be absolutely amused. Besides, I find strength in diversity.”
Bald Erap asks again: “What would you do if we rejected your application? How you do today in the oral exams and this interview will greatly affect your rank and your standing.”
I answered, “My elder brother warned me about Plan B. He said I always have to consider a Plan B, in anything that I do. And Plan B for us would be Australia. This is if I fail my entrance to your university.”
Nosy Netherlander Nose asked: “Have you applied to Australia?”
‘No,” I confessed. “I don’t want to pre-empt my preference for your university. This is my choice. I made that choice. My business now is to preserve, defend and keep that choice.”
Belgian Spinster stood up and shook my hand. “We’ll call you,” she promised.
‘And I’ll be eagerly waiting,” I said as I shook hands with the Netherlander and the Pinoy.
I stepped out of that room feeling relieved and a bit anxious at the same time. Thank God it’s all over. Right now, I’m in the business of waiting. I try not to give the matter too much thought. My inbox remains empty, save for a couple of free daily horoscope readings. It won’t matter too much whether I get accepted or not, or whether my rank would rise up or drop down. What matters is that I gave this my human best. The rest‘is in God’s hands.
Hmmmn... I think I’ll treat myself to ice cream and chocolate.
