Fac ut Vivas

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus

‘Tis the summer season.

It’s also when sporadic appearances of parents-accompanying-their-college-kid-kids invades your so-called Fortress of Solitude.

The scenes as I take my daily trek along the sidewalk connecting UP
Health service and Shopping Center, do more than raise the ambient
temperature by several degrees above room temp: It made me think about
my own inglorious introduction into this system (and other embarrassing
episodes) 11 years ago.

After getting the shock of my life because the instructions that came
with the announcement (that I… gasp! passed UPCAT) indicate that, at
some point in this god-forsaken rite of passage, I’d lose all of my
clothes (even my undies won’t be spared), while the doctor (or
whoever was demonstrating some kind of medical know-how) listened to my
beating heart… like everyone Else, I was treated to a form of
Amazing Race as I scoured the entire campus looking for that elusive
building named after …. something like an animal (or animals) from
Tibet.

Right from the start, I knew that my reluctance to be "mindful of my
surroundings" would cause me all sorts of problems. That also meant
that every step of the way, I blundered through: always asking for
directions/instructions, displaying unbelievable levels of ignorance
and/or stupidity when confronted by authority or old ones or
THEM-type-of-creatures, … you get the picture.

But like the angel or devil who watches his/her own (all-the-time),
some other lower cosmic being watches over the clueless blockheads
(he/she/it unfortunately has to take responsibility for). It was during
the final step of my conversion into a full-blooded freshman, that I
encountered one such minion of the cosmic being.

I arrived at UP looking to settle my tuition fee dues. Without even
bothering to read the
great-big-board-on-which-every-pertinent-thing-was-written, I went
straight to ISSI to complete the transaction. I haven’t even made it to
the second floor when my ignorance was finally revealed (by hapless
circumstances) for everyone to notice.

Luckily a beautiful lady wearing an orange office attire (complete with
smart-looking accoutrement’s)… a rose… approached me and volunteered
to help. Unbelievable.

Pure magic. outer limits. beyond scifi. and stuff.

It happened so fast… the payment… registration …. thing.

… And like other creatures of magic, they’re gone in a flash.

I never saw her again. Not even when I blundered (again) into that place, many days later and in the years that rolled by.

I managed to thank her for helping me out, though.

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

The title of this post.

Roughly translated, it means "Of the rose of the past, we have only its
name". It’s the last line of a well-known book by Umberto Eco.

A shame. I will never know the name of the rose.