Pananaw

Back when I was in College the only subject that I truly enjoyed and thought was interesting was no other than Philosophy of Man, or as we called it, "PhiMan."

The best thing about the whole subject was of course the teacher. Si Miss Ramoya. Anyone would agree that she was different. From first impressions, she looked like a rocker chick. She would only wear three colors. White, Black and Grey. Never have I seen her wear any other colors other than the three. She slouched all the time. Never had good posture. But that girl could surely give an incredible lecture, that's for sure. She gave outrageous points of views about any topic, certain ideas that I myself would never imagine.

Syempre, when I was in SLU I would usually be seen sitting with Kate Pisla in this class. A great mind. But discussions would usually be with a best friend of mine before, Mr. Ivan Ocampo. Another great mind as well.

I remembered our class then. For a month or so, Ms. Ramoya considered our class a wall. No one reacted at all. If a question was raised by her, no one ever got the guts to answer or give a POV. I don't know when we first started interacting with one another but I glad we did.

The very first time I answered her questions was when we were discussing "The Little Prince". We were at the part when the Little Prince was stuck in the desert. And she asked what the desert meant or what did it symbolize in the story. Without knowing (kunwari), my right hand was up in the air. And of course she called me, since no one else was raising their hands. My answer? I remember somewhat saying that the desert was an empty place (obviously). That even if tons of people where there, nothing or no one would really matter because the one he loved (the rose) wasn't there. It symbolized a never ending land of emptiness, hopelessness, a pointless life. But the well was a sign of hope. That even after all the never ending sand, something new would come about somewhere. Well, Ms. Ramoya said it wasn't the answer, but considered my perception interesting, and that she knew what I meant. But it was still wrong.

I was humbled when I was one of the two students in all of her classes, and the first person in our class that got a perfect score in an essay quiz. That was surely unexpected. But from what I learned from her is that grades are just numbers. For some it may seem important, but it doesn't really matter if you learned nothing from that perfect test.

Among all the discussions that we had that semester, I keep one of her questions always in mind.

Miss Ramoya: "When does a mountain become unclimbable?"



The answer: When you think it is unclimbable. One's way of thinking could do tremendous things. Sabi ko nga, pananaw lang yan.