The Legend of Serendipity, Part 1

Serendipity happens, usually happens when you need it to.

Me with Ms. Emmy Fernandez, Sr. Myrna Bas and
Atty. Virginia Gatchalian

After completing a Master Class in Photojournalism in June of 1995 under Spanish Master Photographer, Cristina Garcia-Rodero, I tried to study Spanish just so I could write to my mentor and to better understand the exquisite films by Luis Buńuel and renegade filmmaker Roberto Rodriguez of “El Mariachi” fame.

At the time, Instituto Cervantes Manila offered classes on Saturday mornings and evening classes on weekdays. I chose the weekend since I was working as an advertising photographer for one of the top studios in Manila and it was difficult to predict working hours.

Like any class, there was the getting-to-know-you part and little did I know that I was seated next to a faculty member of the B.S. Public Relations Department of the Santa Isabel College Manila—the late, Emeline Fernandez, a handsome, mild mannered lady who was about forty-something. When she learned that I was a professional photographer, she huddled over and informally asked if I wanted to teach at her school under the same department.

I was caught unaware by the invitation. I have taught several workshops in Photography and I’ve been an instructor during my Boy Scout days when I was in high school so teaching wasn’t a problem for me. What scared and excited me at the same time was that Santa Isabel was an all-girls college and that I would be one of only three members of the faculty who were men. Well, I was in my mid-20s at the time and most of the other teachers were about twice my age. This was going to be interesting, I thought so I practically jumped at the chance and said, “Yes!”

I gave Mrs. Fernandez my card which bore my home phone and pager number. Little did I know that I would get a call two days after, on a Monday, asking me to report for work as the second semester had already started and there was no one to fill in the slot of Photography 101!

Early that Monday morning, I showed up at the Dean’s Office and turned in my resume which incredibly, was a single-page description of who I was and where I was currently connected. Well, we all had to start somewhere!

That day, Ms. Virtucio (yes, she was single as most of the female staff were either nuns or just never got around to marrying) received my credentials and handed me a slip of paper that was my teacher’s load what indicated that my first class was to start at 4:40PM that same afternoon!

Since I had time to kill, I hung around the campus and took in the sights, sounds and the smell of ladies perfume. I cannot find the words to describe how I felt at that moment but there was definitely a smile of amusement on my face that morning. In my mind I was saying, “Welcome to Nirvana!”

Standing in a hallway, looking over the courtyard, I was getting scrutinized by both the high school and college girls. I was a freak at a carnival. I was an alien, an object of curiosity and to a greater extreme—desire for young, attractive ladies! This was an experience that many would absolutely kill for!

I would never deny I enjoyed every moment of that first day. The elation was indescribable and something I’ve not felt before nor since. I cannot deny that this was one of my favorite chapters in my life.

I was roused from my reverie when my pager buzzed. It was my mom asking me how things went and if I wanted to, I could have lunch at home. I couldn’t wait to break the good news to her!

The campus was a short ride from where we lived in Agoncillo St. in Malate. It was convenient for me and I could practically walk either to or from class if I wanted to since I would dismiss the kids as daylight starts to fade and it wouldn’t be so hot to walk.

I showed up at the gate of the college and had to explain to the guard that I was part of the faculty and not one of the male students of the Music Department who wasn’t in uniform. It took a while for the guards to call me, “Sir” or “Mr. Abando” as I may have looked too young to actually know what I was teaching. Often, I would be mistaken for a boyfriend of one of the students. It was hilarious but I loved it!

I walked into my designated classroom about half an hour before the class was to start. It was empty and I took in the old familiar smell of chalk, seasoned wood, paper and floor wax. The aroma of classic schoolroom without air-conditioning and lingering perfume or “baby cologne” gave me a buzz as I sat at the back row staring at the dark green “blackboard”.

Ten minutes before my scheduled class, students started trickling in, surprised that there was actually a “boy” in the room and I was getting the strangest stares. I couldn’t help but smile impishly as a young lady sat next to me and asked, “Kuya, anong ginagawa mo dito?”

“Oh, Photo 101 ito, di po ba,” I questioned back.

--“Opo.” Was the short reply.

I waited until the bell rang and the room was filled up at which I gave up the seat I had taken to the last student which was my cue to go front-and-center.

Without saying a word, I wrote my full name on the blackboard. “Ladies, my name is Albert Anthony Abando. I am your new Photo 101 teacher.”

The look on their faces was absolutely priceless!