Teacher Flor Mejia learned to adapt to the lifestyle of the people in Dicamay who lit up their kerosene lamps when cicadas broke the languid air with their incessant chirping, went to bed at around 7 o’clock in the evening and woke at the crack of dawn to prepare for their farming chores. Families in Dicamay were engaged in planting rice, corn, tobacco and peanuts. Miss Mejia did not seem to mind that the only form of entertainment in Dicamay was listening to music and news and soaps on battery- operated transistor radios tuned in to the only AM broadcast station in the province. Her sincere, down-to-earth, easy-to- approach manner won the acceptance and respect of the entire community, young and old folks of Dicamay alike. Many of the schoolchildren of Dicamay would take an hour of walking to reach the school, some of them crossing a creek or a river on foot. I remember myself walking to the school with no footwear. We were more comfortable without slippers or shoes and felt safer from slipping on the muddy road during rainy days. On the way to the school, we picked ripe guavas from the trees and kept them in our bags for snacks during class recess. Not one of us under Miss Mejia’s class came from parents who had had the privilege of schooling beyond high school. Most parents in Dicamay, including mine, barely finished elementary; only a few reached high school. Not one of us had any preliminary schooling the way other kids were enrolled in kindergarten or preparatory schools. Miss Mejia was undaunted by her pupils’ limitations; she was flexible and creative in responding to their needs. Her caring attitude motivated us to study every lesson she wanted us to learn. As sole teacher in Dicamay she also took upon herself the tasks of events organizer (for Christmas and other important occasions), program director, master of ceremonies and other related chores.
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