I am enrolled!

I enrolled for Junior Year high school today. Compared to previous years, it wasn’t so crowded today, thanks to a transport strike, and also because us Special Science Curriculum (SSC) students enrolled separately from the other curricula.

I came to school at around 10:00 AM, and when I realized that a transport strike was taking place and that I didn’t have to get into the same long lines as the Basic Education Curriculum students, I felt relieved, assuring myself that this whole shenanigan would be over before I could blink my eyes. So here I am, all excited about how quick and painless enrollment would be, striding proudly towards the relatively desolate Science faculty room (where the SSC students would enroll).

“Good morning ma’am, can we enroll na (already)?” I inquired happily.

So the teacher looks at me, quickly scans my entire body from head to foot (condescendingly, at that), and says, “the enrollment forms aren’t here yet.” Apparently, the teacher who had the damn forms couldn’t get to school, no thanks to the transport strike.

So I had to wait. The transport strike would end tomorrow, and by then the school would once again be bursting at the seams with enrollees, and that would spell sweat and stinky armpits for me. After about an hour, the forms arrived, and in an instant I was in the faculty room, my earlobes being examined for any traces of piercing, my fingers checked for any polish. She gave me the all clear and I proceeded to the next station, where another teacher would hand me enrollment forms.

“What section are you in?” she asked.

“Avogadro, ma’am.” Avogadro is the first section in the Special Science Curriculum (third year level) by the way.

“What number?”

“40,” I said ashamedly. Did I tell you I was last in the ranking for the first section?

Without so much as a smile, she handed me three pieces of paper stapled together and said, “fill these out, pay the PTA and DepEd authorized fees, and come back here. Neeext.”

Here, the oddity of government operations is once again demonstrated. Why? On the wall just outside the Science faculty room there is a piece of short bond paper with this advisory printed on it:

THERE WILL BE NO PAYMENTS DURING ENROLLMENT.
All fees will be collected in July.

OK, so why did that woman just tell me to pay PTA and DepEd fees? I rolled my eyes and disregarded the whole thing, having accepted it as part of life—as a public high school student, at least.

I paid the necessary fees: a P350 PTA fee, insurance with a P30 yearly premium (somehow I think the school anticipates something tragic to happen to every student, seeing as how insurance is mandatory), and the DepEd authorized fees—a bunch of payments totaling P200. One last trip to the Science faculty room, and the teacher takes a quick look at my receipts, the enrollment form, and then shoos me with a nonchalant “you’re enrolled.”

Whatever. All in a day’s work. I’m enrolled!