In 1975, after high school, I was awarded several college scholarships in Manila. However, I chose to study at Ateneo de Davao. 

My Alma Mater was one of three colleges run by the Society of Jesus (SJ) in three very strategic centers in Mindanao: Davao, Cagayan de Oro, and Zamboanga. It was the college of choice for most of the local elite – if they didn’t go to Manila for college, they went to Ateneo de Davao. 

I would miss my hometown of Padada, but Davao City was close enough. If I had transport money, I could always go home. Also, my elder sister was staying in Davao, so I planned to stay with her and her family to save on board and lodging costs. 

I knew I had to leave Padada for the big city eventually. It was a must to leave town to take up college, graduate, and look for a job. As much as I love Padada, there was no such opportunity back then. If I wanted a better life, I had to spread my wings and leave the nest. 

Soaking in the Sights and Sounds of the Big City

As a legitimate promdi kid, I was amazed by the trifles of city life. It was the first time I tasted hotdog and bacon – an eye opening experience for a kid who was used to root crops and other provincial fare. 

I was also amazed by taxi cabs – but I didn’t have the money to indulge in comforts like that. 

During my first year in Davao, I acquainted myself with the city’s urban landscape and its people – I told myself this because I walked everywhere. I soaked in everything. 

To get to school, I would take a 30-minute walk from my sister’s house in Matina, and cross the city’s longest bridge to get to the Ateneo campus in downtown Davao. I walked daily to save money and to familiarize myself with the city streets and the crowded, noisy neighborhoods of the city.

Fortunately, I discovered a shortcut, under the Bankerohan bridge. I would pass there and befriend people living in the area – and I met some interesting people there. 

There Were Others Just Like Me

I had such a huge inferiority complex during my first months in Ateneo. Imagine this promdi walking to school everyday, to classmates who had cars with chauffeurs. At times, I felt like I was way out of my league; but I’d remind myself that I had every right to be there, just as much as my rich classmates. 

My classmates, I felt, were really good at Tagalog. I was bad at it, with my heavy Bisaya accent coming through every time I attempted to speak it. It’s funny, because I though the Tagalog that they were speaking was the same as Manila Tagalog; I later learned when I was already in Manila that their Tagalog was Tagalog-Dabaw. 

I thought my classmates were also very intelligent – they wrote and spoke well. I felt ashamed because my clothes were buki (or out-of-fashion, maybe tacky), and unlike them, I had a very limited rotation that I would wear day in and day out. 

However, in time, I eventually found my footing, and began to adapt to life in and out of the campus. And I found out that I wasn’t alone – there were a lot of promdis like me, who I eventually ended up befriending. 

Later on, I learned that it was possible to be friends with everyone as well. Promdi or not, we were all Ateneans, and we were there because we deserved to be there.