In the early ‘50s, I was at the College of Nursing with classes in Diliman. My daily allowance was one peso: 10 centavos for jeepney fare from Dapitan to Quiapo and 15 centavos for the MD or JD bus ride to Diliman. Another 25 centavos was saved for the trip home. Fifty centavos was for my lunch of the best chicken sandwich and a bottle of coke at the Liberal Arts Building basement. Occasionally, a friend would get on the same jeepney or bus with me and pay for my fare, so I would treat myself to a full meal at the Home Economics cafeteria for 80 centavos! Couples who went on lunch dates on campus went to Sawali Corner where à la carte meals were served for about P1.50 per person. It was our idea of elegant dining on campus.
Girls wore full-balloon skirts to school. When the Diliman wind blew, we had to quickly squat and hold down our skirts or they would fly up and cover our heads and show our layers of petticoats. AC jeepney passengers would complain because when a girl in petticoats got on the jeep with them, the whole side seat was occupied with her skirt or covered the other passengers’ laps. I made my own skirts and blouses and each outfit cost me P5.50. At a peso per yard, I would buy four yards for the skirt and a yard and a half for the sleeveless top.
During class field trips and the Labor Day parade, we wore blue jeans or pedal pushers with a shirt (T-shirts were not for girls then). If the trip fell on a Sunday and we had to hear Mass before the trip, we stood at the back because we were not properly dressed for church. We enjoyed rainy days because it was an excuse to use bakya and carry an umbrella to share with anybody who did not have one, to cross the campus to another building for the next class — it was a way of meeting new friends. On buses, if we were seated we offered to hold the books of people, mostly law students, who were always loaded with books.
One lunch break activity that was well attended was the lecture of our beloved chaplain, Father John P. Delaney, SJ, on love, courtship and marriage. What stuck in my mind was when he said, “Marriage is not a 50/50 relationship, but 100/100.”
To graduate from UP, one had to pass swimming class. I remember classmates who did not learn how to swim and had to be pushed into the deep end of the pool to execute how to float and tread water. They were scared to death but the lifeguard was always there with his long pole. The vacant period after swimming class was spent in Little Quiapo eating merienda — the famous halo-halo for 15 centavos. There was a jukebox where we dropped five-centavo coins to play 45 rpm records of our favorite tunes.
The television was newly invented then and I had to travel on a jeep to go to a classmate’s house to watch an interview of Joni James before her performance in the Philippines. Not every house had a telephone so I had to go to my aunt’s next door to make and receive phone calls.
The shopping areas then were Escolta and Carriedo Streets. We spent many hours there shopping for shoes or window shopping. RTW clothes were not yet in vogue. Most girls went to dressmakers for custom-made clothes. I remember Carriedo stank with the smell of leather because most shoe stores were there and all shoes, and even slippers, were made of pure leather. Movie houses were also located in the area so it was not unusual to meet classmates or other UP friends in the place referred to as “downtown.”
We enjoyed the annual Cadena de Amor for graduating girls. We wore white short formals for the occasion. There was the Lantern Parade where we paraded in costumes during the Christmas season. The Oblation Run had not been conceived of then. I wonder how the students and the parents would have reacted to the idea of frat men running naked around the campus in full view of everybody.
Our third year in the program required us to stay at the Nurses’ Home of the Philippine General Hospital on Taft Avenue because we had to report to the wards at 7 a.m. It meant lining up in the bathrooms at 5:30 to be ready at 6:30 or earlier, and finishing breakfast before 7.
It was fun bonding with our classmates and other residents in the dorm. We had late-night picnics and chats in the dark after the 9 p.m. “lights out.” We remember classmates who were so generous with food their moms had brought and those who would hide theirs in their closets. We also had classmates who “borrowed” our stuff from our closets without permission. One classmate borrowed my blue pair of shoes and returned it black. We had a curfew and those with boyfriends who went out on dates had to be back by 9 p.m. or be locked out.
As in other UP dormitories, there was this eerie story of a “white lady” hanging from the ceiling of one of the bathrooms. It was said that during the war, a nurse was raped by an enemy soldier, so she took her life in the dorm. Then there was the taxi driver who happened to be an exhibitionist. He would stand in front of the nurses’ residence at a certain hour with a flashlight. He was ignored until he finally gave up.
Life as a student of nursing in UP in the early ’50s was difficult, with hospital training in the morning and rushing with lunch and going to Diliman in the afternoon for our classes.
We were always rushing but we always had time to do our laundry and set our hair with rollers at night!
It was a difficult life but I would not have traded it for anything else.
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