Love and an adobo sandwich

It was about the middle of 1951, in my junior year at the Ateneo, that my Visayan girlfriend and I parted ways. We were at a party and just before it ended, she told me that she no longer was my girlfriend. Just like that! Of course I was hurt, since I wasn't expecting it. … Continue reading Love and an adobo sandwich

Post-war: The dancing years

My salad days at the Ateneo really put the war years behind me. I got to wear shoes again, even if my first pair of the shoes after the war were combat boots. Although I wouldn't  call it a uniform, our regular wear consisted of khaki pants, long or short, depending on how hot it … Continue reading Post-war: The dancing years