Thoughts about the Weather, the School and its Stories

There is something comforting about the rain. It is comforting in a sense that it falls on everyone.

It doesn't favor the rich over the poor, the educated over the illiterate, the known over the unknown, the ones in uniform, over the ones that aren't.

People in glasses get annoyed by it. Children are beguiled by it. Farmers rejoice for it. The urban poor loathe it. Proletariats in their uniforms remain unmoved and indifferent unless it makes their job more difficult than it should be.

The same goes for sunlight, and the accompaniment of generous warmth. Plants and most animals certainly enjoy it. Most people wince at it especially nearing noontime.

Both weathers vassalated in less than two hours at work: Scorching heat and vigorous rain, dark grey clouds looming over the school followed by glistening generous rays of sunshine.

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_{THE VIEW FROM THE FLOOR WHERE I WAS ASSIGNED TO SUBSTITUTE}

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The heavens have been quite fickle these days, have they not?

Although the weather often gets in the way of the usual hustle and bustle of parents and teachers on a distribution day, the skies are still a sight to be hold-- enough to be a source of inspiration for daydreaming onlookers like myself.

I often wonder about the school and its humble hallways-- that while they are aesthetics in their own right-- the pillars hold a million stories where young Boholano school boys and school girls used to run around and frolick before the pandemic.

On one corner of a hallway, a group of boys would be gathering around playing the newest trending mobile game, on the other end, a group of highschool girls would be laughing and teasing each other when a crush of theirs walk by or when a wattpad character declares their love to other the leading character.

By the plants, among the blinder corners of the classroom, a classmate would ask another for answers as they forgot to work on their assignments prior entering class.

Several rowdy students would later then be receiving jabs by a frustrated teacher for their loud bellowing voices.

Students would be chasing and playing gïm-gïm, or dakpanay, or takyang (if they had the skill and tools for it), or chinese garter in the open field, or practicing their role playing presentation for their Araling Panlipunan (Social Studies) class.

A student sitting on the stairs would be fighting back the tears after getting a bad score on a math exam she failed to prepare for.

Two high schoolers (obviously each other's crushes) would only but exchange glances along the hallways, one would be shyer than the other, and while the other more courageous, they'd also be more prone to being tongue-tied in the faces of their many peers and teachers.

Memories of my high school experiences as a highschooler is a distant past, so I could only speculate that this was what life looked like in a public high school, a far cry from the silent and sullen (but peaceful) exchanges of guardians and teachers on distribution day.

The memories of the older, much more tenured teachers would probably be more vivid, and they would agree that the pillars of the school are made to hold up students' stories, their laughter, and tears as well.

As the pandemic is nearing an end, I anticipate that the same liveliness would be returned little by little, and I anticipate it would require a gargantuan amount of effort on our part as well...

So for now, while I am substituting for another teacher on another distribution day, I will but count down to the days wherein I might experience the liveliness first hand, and breathe in the peace and silence I can still afford at the moment during the last days of distance learning, with only eyeing for eye candies (preferably students' older kuyas), as one of my main forms of entertainment during the shift 😌.

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_{MY VIEW AND APPEARANCE AS A SUBSTITUTE ADVISER FOR THE DAY}

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Like all the other epidemics, and world-wide crises in the history of humanity, life will still go on after this pandemic. Rain or shine, during break time, students will play and teachers will wait in their classrooms with soap, water and a few towels 😂...

Life will go on.

About The Protean Creator:

_{Roxanne Marie is the twenty-year-old something who calls herself the Protean Creator.}

_{She is a chemical engineer by profession, pole-dancer and blogger by passion and frustration, and lastly, a life enthusiast. She is on a mission to rediscover her truth through the messy iterative process of learning, relearning and unlearning. Currently, she works as a science and research instructor in her hometown, Tagbilaran City, all the while documenting her misadventures, reflections and shenanigans as a working-class millennial here on Hive.}

_{If you like her content, don't forget to upvote and leave a comment to show some love. It would be an honor to have this post reblogged as well. Also, don't forget to follow her to be updated with her latest posts.}