It's being torn down, to make way for a bigger, better, Ateneo Student Center. About time, I admit--but with it, a large part of my Ateneo will disappear.
Built in 1982, Colayco Hall was the building that housed most of the three dozen or so student organizations in the Ateneo de Manila University. It was named after Captain Manuel Colayco (AB 1930), the first Editor-in-Chief of Guidon and World War II hero. He died in 1945, soon after helping the US Third Cavalry liberate UST from the Japanese.
It was typical conversation fodder for alumni, right after "What's your major" and "Whom else did you know?" When Ateneans find each other, after college, they ask, "Where did you hang out?"
There were so many other places that you can claim as your own, and will define who you were in college: Caf, Bel, Quad, Lib, Faura, Admin. I would answer, "Colayco".
During my Freshman year, in 1989, I was afraid of Colayco Hall. It was a building full of older college kids who actually belonged there. Through my 17-year old probinsyano eyes, they lived in another world, another Ateneo, the realm of school orgs.
It was only in my Sophomore year that I dared step into Colayco. I became part of the school paper's art staff and I was forced to visit whenever I picked up or submitted an assignment. I never hung out there.
In Colayco, I felt that the people there loomed larger, like giants, like Brobdingnagians. They were people who were officers or members of Something. They had official school work. They had meetings. They had a right to be there. I was nothing but a PoliSci major with a student ID.
Colayco was a small, two-story concrete building with, by my estimate, five distinct social areas.
First, the entire east wing, facing the college quadrangle, is the official front of the building, where all the student services were. Second, the communal lounge in the middle, which spilled out of the building, into the Sunken Garden. Third, the lower floor facing out, which held the offices of the student board. Fourth, the lower floor at the back, where all the musical Christians were. And, finally, the last and fifth social area, the right wing, on the upper floor, where the Pub Room was.
By my Junior year, I was part of Heights and assumed the full rights of hanging out in the Pub Room. By my opinion, the Pub Room was the best room in the building. Aside from being filled with people who actually read books (and who actually read the Heights issues), it had a view.
From the Pub Room, I could see the Science building, the library, and the corn fields beyond. When it rained hard, it felt like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. And while the storm raged outside, inside we played out the lives we had assumed, not as college students, but as writers, poets, artists.
Colayco people were the org people. Heights was the official literary publication, and we shared the room with the official school paper and the official Filipino magazine. Down the hall from us were dozens of other official school organizations. All in Colayco Hall.
But aside from official school work, this was the building where we spent our days, in between classes, where we stashed our bags and books and umbrellas and paper kites. This is where we found our barkadas and crushes. This is where we met before heading off to lunch or going home.
Colayco is where I found a best friend who helped ease the pain of my mother's death. Colayco is where I had a run-in with the guy who eventually became the Best Man for my wedding. It's where I saw all my three crushes everyday. It's where my friend and I schemed to sneak his girlfriend away from her house. It's where I joined my first and only Hat Party. It's where I silently watched my poem ripped apart and rejected by the Heights editors.
So now, if someone asked where I hung out in college, I wouldn't know what to say.
Related links from The Guidon:
Built in 1982, Colayco Hall was the building that housed most of the three dozen or so student organizations in the Ateneo de Manila University. It was named after Captain Manuel Colayco (AB 1930), the first Editor-in-Chief of Guidon and World War II hero. He died in 1945, soon after helping the US Third Cavalry liberate UST from the Japanese.
It was typical conversation fodder for alumni, right after "What's your major" and "Whom else did you know?" When Ateneans find each other, after college, they ask, "Where did you hang out?"
There were so many other places that you can claim as your own, and will define who you were in college: Caf, Bel, Quad, Lib, Faura, Admin. I would answer, "Colayco".
During my Freshman year, in 1989, I was afraid of Colayco Hall. It was a building full of older college kids who actually belonged there. Through my 17-year old probinsyano eyes, they lived in another world, another Ateneo, the realm of school orgs.
It was only in my Sophomore year that I dared step into Colayco. I became part of the school paper's art staff and I was forced to visit whenever I picked up or submitted an assignment. I never hung out there.
In Colayco, I felt that the people there loomed larger, like giants, like Brobdingnagians. They were people who were officers or members of Something. They had official school work. They had meetings. They had a right to be there. I was nothing but a PoliSci major with a student ID.
Colayco was a small, two-story concrete building with, by my estimate, five distinct social areas.
First, the entire east wing, facing the college quadrangle, is the official front of the building, where all the student services were. Second, the communal lounge in the middle, which spilled out of the building, into the Sunken Garden. Third, the lower floor facing out, which held the offices of the student board. Fourth, the lower floor at the back, where all the musical Christians were. And, finally, the last and fifth social area, the right wing, on the upper floor, where the Pub Room was.
By my Junior year, I was part of Heights and assumed the full rights of hanging out in the Pub Room. By my opinion, the Pub Room was the best room in the building. Aside from being filled with people who actually read books (and who actually read the Heights issues), it had a view.
From the Pub Room, I could see the Science building, the library, and the corn fields beyond. When it rained hard, it felt like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. And while the storm raged outside, inside we played out the lives we had assumed, not as college students, but as writers, poets, artists.
Colayco people were the org people. Heights was the official literary publication, and we shared the room with the official school paper and the official Filipino magazine. Down the hall from us were dozens of other official school organizations. All in Colayco Hall.
But aside from official school work, this was the building where we spent our days, in between classes, where we stashed our bags and books and umbrellas and paper kites. This is where we found our barkadas and crushes. This is where we met before heading off to lunch or going home.
Colayco is where I found a best friend who helped ease the pain of my mother's death. Colayco is where I had a run-in with the guy who eventually became the Best Man for my wedding. It's where I saw all my three crushes everyday. It's where my friend and I schemed to sneak his girlfriend away from her house. It's where I joined my first and only Hat Party. It's where I silently watched my poem ripped apart and rejected by the Heights editors.
So now, if someone asked where I hung out in college, I wouldn't know what to say.
Related links from The Guidon:
I've been actively telling people to read this particular blog entry. Colayco wasn't just mine, it belonged to a lot of people.
I've gotten some replies from friends, especially from Atenista.Net:
rayphael: "Good stuff, buddy. Brought back memories. It really was like a lighthouse when it rained." (YM)
Maverick: "Your description of the social demarcations of Colayco Hall are pretty accurate. Never heard anybody put it down in words but you just about summed it up.... Too bad Colayco is being torn down. Those were happy years. Cheers, fellow Pub Roomer." (Atenista.Net)
Grotrian0203: "We all must look forward to the new Colayco, where great memories will be made for the next generation of Ateneans." (Atenista.Net)
Jaco D'Shepherd: "Of course, the nice thing about the publlications room of Colayco Hall was its front seat to the setting sun...just sitting there gazing at an unobstructed view of Katipunan while smoking your lungs out with a pack of blue seal cigs from Tong Long just made the daily struggles bearable." (Atenista.Net)
brianz: "It is a sad to hear about Colayco Hall." (Atenista.Net)
5FootCarrot: "Thanks for sharing your blog entry with us, jesse. I think your analysis was spot-on and also did the building justice." (Atenista.Net)
Jesse,
Thanks for dropping by my blog too. Despite the fact that you graduated a year before my freshman year, I think that the Colayco experience is something that can be called common by the batches before and after ours.
Thanks for sharing.
Jay: That's the thing--the Colayco experience, I feel, is so specific, so widespread, and so profound that I wish everyone would say something about it. Just a line or two, of a memory they have about Colayco Hall.
the best memories are illustrated in heart....
From Hope Ngo:
as a former pub room alum, i completely agree with your sentiments. and while it breaks my heart to know that the sunken garden, where my then best friend and i pigged out over massive servings of strawberry mousse and walnut peach torte from sweet haven will be no longer... i want to share something that happened to me a long time ago.
not long after grad, i bumped into a fellow ateneo grad from the 1950's... i went up to him and introduced myself to him as a fellow alum, to which his responded with 'i didn't think i'd live to see the day when the ateneo would start taking women.'
to him, accepting women meant change, just as with us, tearing down colayco hall means change. we all, to a certain extent, fight against change, not because it is necessarily bad, but because it symbolizes the end of something that was.
to many of us --myself included-- time spent at colayco was a crucial part of the college experience. but perhaps in our yearning for colayco, we yearn not for the continued existence of the building itself, but for the return of, or the revival of, that happy, carefree wonderful time in our lives that will never, despite all the wishes and prayers, return?
at the end of the day, buildings come and go, but it is our memories and how we treasure them that matter. those who broke up with their significant others, or heard that they wouldn't be returning to the ateneo the following semester in one of colayco's rooms might be glad to see the building go... while there are those like us, who have fond memories of happy years spent in its embrace, will lament its passing.
such is life.
"Fourth, the lower floor at the back, where all the musical Christians were."
heee heee heee
musical christians.... love that turn of phrase. perfect description. though maybe it was more like: "the noisy singing orgs." as some of them were the scholar org, math/science/cs orgs, and yes, ACMG. hehehe
lovely piece
lionel:acid42
http://acid42.bluechronicles.net/blog
whoah, while all these people are sharing about their memories of colayco, i gotta go in and say this:
as fun as the memories there were, and as warm as the friendships forged there were..... the overwhelming mood that colayco always seemd to give me was one of LONELINESS. which probably characterized a lot of my college days, despite being all over the place and being around so many people.
colayco was the site of a first kiss though.and carolling practices. and numerous musical performances. lotsa memories yes.
... and still the undercurrent of being alone in a sea of people.
lionel:acid42
http://acid42.bluechronicles.net/blog
Hey Lionel!
Thanks for reading this one. I can empathize with your sense of loneliness. I had some of that too. But it's also true that you were all over the place--the guitarist, the singer, the poet, the artist.
I actually looked up to you. You might not remember this, but you even showed me one of your sketchbooks.
Hmm. Maybe I should write about you.
article bout colayco is nice. colayco will always be part of our lives. thanks.
Hey Jeff, thanks! I totally agree with you, dear Jesuit.