Law school

Last November 2004, I made a deal with God. I said, “God, I will cross the bridge half-way. I will take the qualifying exams, prepare for it for a grand total of 1 month (which turned out to be 1 week), pay P1,500 for the exam fee, and wake up early on a Sunday morning to take the exams. Should I pass, it means that this path is for me. If not, I will take it as You closing this door on this opportunity and I will treat it as a sign that You have other plans for me.” I have been very consistent. I would always pray for many things from God. But at the end of each prayer, my heart would always whisper, “put me where I am most needed. Your will be done. In this instance, I felt God nodded in compliance with this deal. But, knowing God, I bet that He, or She, has something else in mind.

And so, I woke up early on a Sunday, brought pencils, an eraser, a sharpener, cigarettes and a lighter. I also bought an overpriced drink, which was too sweet. No breakfast, just oatmeal. I didn’t review the night before. I told myself that if this is what God wanted me to be, I would pass the test (rationalizing for not substantially preparing for the exam and coming up with a decent excuse if I don’t pass it).

When I went inside the building there were a lot of people waiting for the exam to start. Most of them were fresh graduates. Fresh meat. Faces filled with hope. Their eyes fervently looking beyond the exam and seeing their lives lived as lawyers. Yes, I was about to take the toughest (according to those who took it and those who prepared it) law entrance exam in the country.

We were accosted to our respective rooms, were given the instructions, and then we started. I wasn’t scared. I took the exam before. But I didn’t pass. It was not meant for me, at least during that time. Like the nervous faces I saw, I, too, was once a fresh graduate who submitted himself to the exam. And I didn’t pass. Not time yet, I told myself.

So I began to answer the questions. Pretty basic. It wasn’t like this before. My recollection was that the questions were harder. Or was I wiser? I got to the reading comprehension part. Very basic. The vocabulary part was a cinch. I was laughing a bit. It wasn’t that hard at all. I cursed when I began to answer the math part. 40 word problems to be answered in 30 minutes. Are they crazy? So I did the most logical thing to do: I guessed the answers. Better not leave any blanks.

After the exam, I went out of the building, lit a cigarette, called a couple of friends to inform them that it is done, and I’ve let go of it. I did my part, God. It’s Your turn.

A week after my birthday, February of 2005, a friend from law school informed me that I passed the entrance exam. At first I could not believe it. I checked the website of the law school and, lo and behold, my name was there. I was stunned. An officemate was jumping up and down, apparently more excited than I am. Finally, God came through for me. But, as I suspected, there’s a catch. Though I passed the written exam, I have to be interviewed by the professors. Of the 200 that passed the exam, from the 2000 that took it, 100 students would have be interviewed to vie for the limited slots. There’s always a twist. God never played fairly.

I found myself taking a leave of absence for work. There were six of us waiting to be interviewed. Five of them were fresh graduates. I told them I also graduated recently. I just finished my master’s degree in the same university. Nervous laughter. We were competing for the available slots. Too bad for them, I’m better at mind games. I’ve always been consistent. Get a job first. Know how the world works. Then go to law school so that you would have a context, a framework to work with.

My turn finally came, five professors in front of me. The oldest caught me off guard. “You are white as paper. How are you feeling?” he asked. “Dehydrated, sir.” I answered. My futile attempt at disarming the interviewers. They remained unperturbed. I answered their questions with confidence and passion. Most of the questions were hypothetical. I was hoping for something more substantial. I wanted to tell them that I’ve been working for the farmers since I graduated. I know how the system works and the reason why I’m endeavoring to take up law is to help the farmers. If that doesn’t get me in, then this law school doesn’t deserve me. But they treated me like I just graduated from college.

I left the room feeling disappointed. That was it? That’s the interview? I’ve encountered nastier interviewers during college. I was expecting more. More issues. More debate. Is this what I truly want? But then again, what I want is not the issue. Your will be done.

A week before the results of the interview came out, I chanced upon a personality test in the internet. One of the questions asked was “what would you rather be: a teacher or a lawyer?” I answered: Teacher. What does that say about my state of mind? Am I decided on what path to take? An officemate of mine provided the answer: a path is just a path. Only the heart can discern its value. And since God already owns my heart, His, or Her, path is the path that I will take.

A day from now, I will be attending the two-day orientation for freshmen at the College of Law in the University of the Philippines. I will be attending night-law since I’ll be working during the day to support myself. I will, yet again, abuse the system and get a loan from the University to pay for my tuition. I’ve already informed my lawyer friends that the “Send Our Friend to Law School” Foundation is accepting donations. Law books, words of encouragement, and cash (cash is much preferred). Everybody’s excited about the whole thing. For five years, I will not be able to travel abroad. Not even domestically. Law school is demanding. At least that’s what they say. It’s a lot like love, you have to commit yourself to it. At least that’s how I see it.

As I sit in front of my computer, typing and burning my lungs, I couldn’t help myself and laugh about the whole thing. Last Friday, I rushed to the university to submit a document to get my admission slip in Law School. They wouldn’t give it to me since I don’t have a certificate of graduation. In order for me to get that, I need to get clearance from the University Registrar. That would take 2 weeks. Enrollment is next week. And so, I put on my sweetest smile and convinced the University Registrar to bypass protocol and give me the document. My smile worked and I’m off to Law School.

For someone who is so unsure, I moved heaven and earth to submit that document in order to get in. Maybe I’m not as uncertain as I thought I am. God is not only good all of the time. God has a plan. And God has a plan for me.