High School Biology and How it Ruined My Adult Life (Part 1)
by YBLalat

I've always hated biology, ever since high school. I am not sure why. I know that it is morally wrong to hate any kind of knowledge whatsoever, because it is still a knowledge, a gift of information. There are actual people out there who provide food and shelter for their family after learning biology. But whenever I am asked why I have not yet enrolled in any biology course here at the U, to satisfy my biological studies requirement for degree completion, I just plain reply, "I hate biology. I am going to take it during the last semester of my study, just before graduation." And then, the person who asked undergo a confused frenzy of "Whoa!" or "Are you kidding?" and I would smile a silly smile and say under a slow breath, "A-ha."

In high school, the biology lab was the torture chamber. I felt suffocated and listless and sleepy. The subject did not interest me then, and still does not now. All that sciences of the body and how plants and animals live their lives do not appeal to me. What is the use of knowing the Latin names of body parts inside your pants? I call the dangling elephant trunk a penis and so does my mom and dad and even the doctor himself, for God's sake. I know you may say in your head, "This guy thinks with his nuts." But listen to me, the point I am toiling to convey here is that biology requires that you memorize all these mumbo-jumbo nomenclature in order to ace the tests. I despise that idea! If it is not backed up with mathematical reasoning and is purely dependent on experimental findings, then, in my head, it is not worthy to be called science. It's academic witchcraft.

Maybe that is the freakin' reason why I hate biology that much: memory. I am not that good at memorizing things and names. I forget my phone number when filling forms. I don't remember my feet size when I am buying new shoes. I remember only a handful of faces of my PPP ITM friends and I do not have the slightest idea how Hafiza looks like, even though she was a junior prefect under me back in high school and is here as a new U of M freshman. Even after Nadhra told me, I still pronounce Jae's name as 'Ja-ee', though supposedly, it's 'Jay'. I actually have to check last month's phone bills to trace my family's phone number because I don't know its last four digits. I am growing senile by the day but others still iterate how exemplary my CGPA is.

However, there was a short period when I had a really great time learning biology. I think not only was it me alone, but all of my classmates had an enjoyable in-lab experience then. Yes, yes, it was the times of sex education. Added that the teacher was a beautiful young woman and that female students nearly outnumbered male student, it was a glorious moment for biology. At that time, I was seated at the back of the female students' rows of seats, at the farthest end of the classroom, and how fortunate was I to witness all that was so 'educational'. So tremendous was the experience that I got all 'A's for the tests during that period, which was a rare thing for me and the other male students, since biology has always been the subject dominated by the female students. (This is where you get my stereotypical idea that girls have better memory than boys do).

Several memorable things happened and most of them are either sexually funny or sexually embarrassing, but never both. The teacher tried her best to put on a straight face but the sight of idiots grinning from ear to ear at the instance the word 'condom' is mentioned made all that a long nightmare for her. The girls were often seen blushing red or trying hard to concentrate on what the teacher was talking, with the penis diagram just inches from their noses. Every time the tip of the teacher's ruler landed on a new body part on the penis diagram hung high and big in front of the blackboard, wild and sharp giggles from the back seat erupted like firecrackers. Sometimes, when she doesn't feel like making a fool out of herself, the teacher would assign students to present related materials to the class as a class presentation. Boy, how I pity the scapegoat. If the person were a girl, then the whole class would witness her face changing colors, from brown to light red, and dark yellow to white.

Once, the teacher was talking about the methods of contraception and how each one of them works. She was, as usual, struggling to finish whatever was there in the syllabus as matter-of-factly as she could, despite the commotion and awkwardness that occurred frequently, when she arrived at the sub-topic pertaining to condoms and how most efficient it is in preventing unplanned pregnancy. I think she was trying to explain why its efficiency is so high compared to the other methods, when she gradually digressed and related to the usage of condoms to her own family planning with her husband. She talked about how they planned to have sex on the first day of ovulation in order to get a son, as she already have two daughters. Then, she went on and on, and the female students slowly turning red, their thighs swayed to the sides faster and faster, and the male students' eyes got wider and wider, their feet tapped the floor louder and louder, when suddenly, she said something about fruit-flavored condoms.

"I think I have used only strawberry- and orange-flavored condoms in the past."

Immediately, silence entered the room. Eyes were cold. Muscles were stiff. Breathing stopped. Heartbeats slowed. Eardrums were ringing. Wildly. Nobody said anything for a few seconds. They were too taken by what they just heard. All were shocked to hear reality. All were trying hard to understand the situation. Moral values were at stake. Shame was lurking nearby. Aghast!

The biology teacher took one step back and lowered her gaze. She turned around slowly and paced herself towards the inventory room to her left, saying nothing still. The sound of her yellow tudung caressing the light brown dress echoed the room like a military marching beat. Caress, caress, caress. Her long arms were kept close to her small chest, protecting her dignity like a mother to a baby. Each light step followed the next obediently.

The students were still not responding to anything. They were still floating idly in a land far away and distant from where they were. Inside their heads, there was just softly played orchestral music and purple trees that grow lollipop and candies. They remained seated and silent until the wailing sound of the bell calling for the brunch break, penetrated their thick surrounding shell of defiance of filths from the teacher's deepest sex secrets vault.

[to be continued tomorrow]