JOSEPHIANS ASSEMBLE!
A gathering for 30 former students of St Joseph’s School brings wonderful memories of their school days, VINCENT D’SILVA writes
IT was a memorable day for the Class of 1980 of St Joseph’s School (SJS), Johor Baru, when 30 former students met for a grand reunion at the Grand Straits Garden Restaurant at Danga Bay, recently.
The gathering was dubbed “Reunion for old SJS boys turning 54”. It was a joyous bash for us. Many flew in from Australia, Singapore, United Kingdom and Vietnam to attend the get-together after having parted as students at the end of 1980.
Early in the day, some of the boys took a walk down memory lane by touring their alma mater. They were, in fact, back in school, but not for lessons. They gathered to mark the school’s 62nd anniversary.
On meeting up, it was inevitable this group of old Josephians would tease each other for having expanded sideways, some with receding hairlines, others with graying pates.
There were emotional moments at the entrance to the restaurant where the dinner was held, as classmates arrived and upon recognising each other, clasped and hugged, memories flooding back of times past.
Overcome, some were seen flicking away tears, a few surreptitiously, others unabashedly.
Memories of all those years in the classroom, at recess in the canteen, and on the school field, must have surged in the minds as ex-students strove to make time stand still for a while, trying to come to terms with their days in school.
After completing Form Five, the boys had gone their separate ways, eager for the adult world of work, marriage and familyraising.
Since most of us had lost contact after leaving school, social networks like Facebook, WhatsApp and emails proved useful in the quest for a re-gathering of the old tribe.
“Now having passed half-century in age, career-wise we are stable, and our children have all grown up, so it’s time to catch up with old classmates,” observed Donald Culas, a production manager in a manufacturing company.
It was a grand occasion, as former students chatted over dinner, so much so that they almost forgot about the food.
Reminiscences welled up, memories collided as each former student tried to summon the best occasions of their Josephian years, especially the episodes flavoured with humour and schoolboy-life mischief.
What was interesting was how we had turned out in advanced adulthood. Some were successful professionals: lawyers, doctors, engineers, bank managers, teachers and even a few CEOs.
I was amused that some of the guys who turned up were the ones notorious for having made some teachers’ lives vexing.
As one classmate Oh Pek Hwa put it: “After the exchange of handshakes and hugs and conversations revolving around their wellbeing, we went straight down to chatting about the mischief, the camaraderie we had experienced as schoolboys.”
We invited one special teacher to the occasion. He was science teacher Toh Chuan Hock, renowned for his unconventional method of punishment using a rubber band.
Former victims recoiled at the memory of the sharp pain that Toh, now 81, inflicted on the errant student with a flick of his finger.
During the 1980s, teachers were allowed to use the cane but Toh was remembered for his style of punishment till today.
Then there was another famous disciplinarian, whose presence was enough to strike fear into the hearts of students.
They quaked in their shoes when Harpajan Singh approached. The sound of his footsteps, even whispers of his voice in the corridor, had students scurrying for cover.
The presence of Toh and Harpajan among the teaching staff ensured that lively and energetic students did not let any inclination for mischief exceed the bounds that would invite a resort by the two to corporal methods of containment.
Also remembered was P. Kathirasoo, who was part of the teaching staff when the school began in 1955. The 93-year-old grand dame of the Josephian teaching tradition enjoyed a unique reputation.
Perpetually attired in sari, Kathirasoo carried a cane and the sound of the tread of her shoes could be heard along the corridors of the school as she approached.
Students feared her presence because of the cane she carried.
Proudly calling themselves “St Josephians”, the boys did not hesitate to express their gratitude for being taught and nurtured by such dedicated old hands.
Emotions ran high when they went through old school photos and school magazines, with some shedding tears of joy and sorrow.
During that evening of fun and laughter, however, the boys also observed a minute’s silence for classmates and teachers who had passed on.
When it came time to sing the school song, the dining hall reverberated with a lusty rendition of an anthem that still retains its power to evoke loyalty.
Recall was made of a time in the 1970s when schools had multiracial and multi-religious enrolments. Integration was easy because teachers and students understood that diversity was the norm and acceptance of it was enlarging and peace-creating.
Vinod Devathas, director in a US multinational IT organisation, recalled: “St Joseph’s holds a special place in my heart. As students, we communicated every day. We looked out for each other in school and now , we still keep in touch.
“In our school days, when one student was missing for some time, we sent a posse to check on the brother who had gone missing. That was the bond we forged. We learned how to be brothers even though there was no blood link between us,” Devathas said.
“Our parents taught us to respect everyone regardless of race, religion, colour, culture or creed; such values were cast in stone. We were taught at home that we are different and this difference is our strength and unity.
“In school, the integration was seamless because the induction happened from home,” said another former classmate.
SJS is an example of schools in this country that has outstanding records – schools that are no ordinary schools, but great institutions that have produced graduates who have in turn contributed to the wealth and strength of this nation.
For the 62 years of SJS’s existence, students have walked the school’s hallowed halls.
Hundreds arrived through the school’s gates as boys and, after an education in its classes and on its field, were geared to find their niche in an adult world of challenges, that on the evidence of the reunion of the Class of 1980 I attended, have been well borne.