There was something profoundly moving in old friends saying prayers in a misty morning, their lives squarely in the hands of a mild-mannered man expertly steering the vehicle. The voices coming together in a steady hum, the familiar cadence of the words, doubtless stirred many memories. But for the intervening decades, they could have been children again. Surely heaven could hear.

And Lulu Nepomuceno sitting quietly by the coaster door signaled that everything was on track.

They had gathered cheerfully at what seemed like the crack of dawn on M. Hemady in Quezon City, and the coaster took off a little past the appointed time of 7 a.m. A bit of heavy traffic on Ortigas, quite expected on a Friday, stalled them on their way to the corner of Gil Puyat and Edsa to collect the others, Lulu competently keeping count. That done, with raucous greetings, they headed out of the metro 8ish.

The travelers beginning their day on Feb. 7 with expressed hope in the Divine and anticipating a great time at Kate Aguila’s La Crispina Farms in Ibaan, Batangas, are members of the College of the Holy Spirit (CHS) High School Class of 1965. Including at last count roughly a dozen based abroad, they had been coming together willy-nilly since December and seriously in January to prep for the celebration of their Diamond anniversary at the alumni homecoming on Feb. 2. 

‘Stayin’ Alive’

In the coaster, Charo Legarda dropped the taskmaster stance but was still keyed up about the dance presented by the class during the homecoming program at which the CHS Alumni Foundation recognized each jubilarian class’ outstanding alumni (the Diamonds had two). Charo the dancer and teacher had been stressed and sleepless; she had felt hassled by less than perfect entrances and exits, botched blocking, as well as flubs and missteps, to speak nothing of incomplete attendance during practice sessions held in Esther Jose’s lanai and elsewhere. 

But at the moment of truth the performance staged to the tune of “Stayin’ Alive” drew applause and compliments—even if, as Charo was now recalling with a loud laugh, the dancers stood smiling in their finale pose while those at the foot of the stage still swung to the beat, vigorously shaking their pompoms.

Still and all, what did it matter? Someone may have stepped into a space where she shouldn’t be, or another may have missed raising a graceful hand at the precise second, but the performance was a class act in more ways than one—a classic example of what has come to be the Diamonds’ mantra of “live, love, laugh.” 

The unflappable Dee Villareal, along with Charo, Esther, Patty Antiporda, Vicky Aliño, Mel Viado, Dina Casis and Inday Jopson, demonstrated the adage that dance is moved by the heart more than the feet, as did, despite their having just flown in from points overseas, Corit Fernandez, Rosa Alvarez and Paeng Francia. The front act of Gracielou Rebullida and Luz Ibarra was a riot: Gracielou with a wheelchair (borrowed) and Luz with a walker (hers). 

Rosalou Soriano, aka the class “glue” who always makes things happen, was in the secondary corps along with Lulus Maceda and Nepomuceno (the logistics team), Tiks Carillo, Joy Sabado, Nitz Tecson, Buching Yoingco, Lita Llacar, Lorie Rualo, Richie Concepcion, Lillian Santillan… Many others, including the Co sisters Fely (CHS’ first lay president) and Lilia, as well as the not-often-seen Vicky Jose, Ging Coruña, Perla Cardenas, Evelyn Manding, Toni Villaraza, Cynthia Cheng, Kathy Marte, Francis Tayag and Connie Abeleda, held up the sky while the dancers did their thing. 

Delai Prodigalidad, Illa de Guzman and Tess Centeno were observed savoring their interlude in their motherland. Assorted life conditions notwithstanding, Carina Querubin, Ening Arce, KT Banta, Mila Licauco and Chari Paje showed up.

Imagine it: the Diamond class dressed white on white down to their footwear, the better to show off bursts of color flashing in their hair and hanging from their ears and necks. The pompoms lovingly turned out by the artist Vicky Aliño, an expert at making accessories to bedeck her classmates at homecomings, completed the happy picture. (Vicky also managed the feat of transporting the “Antipolo gels”—Tiks, Mel, Luz, Cielo Basco—to and from every occasion.)

Excursions 

Now freed of the pressure of practice and performance, the Diamonds were on the second of their two planned excursions, determined to extend the fun they enjoyed on Feb. 4, when Ottie Henson hosted lunch at her popular Central Grill restaurant in Angeles, Pampanga. Ottie’s gift was made even more memorable by line dancing, games, and a raffle of her artworks.

Past 10 a.m., the Batangas air fresh and dewy under a cloudy sky, they were being welcomed by Kate to her home nestled among trees, lush plants and a flowery gazebo. Lillian arrived shortly in her van with the “Southern belles.” The listed assembly was now complete, with Susan Chou missing the homecoming but flying in from Australia in time for this second foray.

Kate had to use a mic to inform her guests talking all at the same time of their packed schedule after the refreshments: brief visits to the archdiocesan shrines of St. James the Greater in Ibaan and of St. Joseph the Patriarch in San Jose (this being a jubilee year, blessings await apparently even lapsed Catholics who visit jubilee churches); lunch back at her home noonish: more conversation and lingering bonding before departure for the metro by 3 p.m. 

The wisdom of seizing rare moments such as this, specially in this chapter of their lives graced by love and wounded by loss, cannot be overstated. The scandalous national budget, the House’s long-delayed impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte, and the appalling quality of most of the candidates in the midterm elections may be scorching the local landscape, and halfway across the planet Donald Trump may be ruthlessly upending “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” but the brief time spent with friends one has known since one’s youth, partaking of Kate’s fine food and learning a thing or two from her on the art of running a poultry farm, and engaging in a fierce down-memory-lane trivia competition—Vicky Aliño ably emceeing—even a rowdy, risqué game, served to lift and fortify one’s flagging spirit.

And suddenly it was time to head back. The Diamonds (made in the labs of the heart, and nothing remotely relevant to the “blood diamonds” defined by Amnesty International as extracted in conflict zones and obtained at the cost of human lives) steeled themselves to a return to routine. 

For the northerners the trip from Batangas was a breeze, until Makati’s Friday traffic indicated that they had reached the urban wilderness. Evening had fallen by the time they got to Quezon City. But it’s true what’s often said: Old friends make the world seem right.

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