by Reynald Bolinget, MAEE
Two overloaded jeepneys rolled out of Baguio City on the morning of Saturday, April 12, 2025, as the sun cast a golden hue over the terraced hills of La Trinidad. Inside, a group of Baguio Central University (BCU) graduate students held tightly to boxes filled with school bags, notebooks, pencils, crayons, brushes, paints, and food supplies, their excitement palpable. Their final destination was Talinguroy Elementary School in Wangal, La Trinidad, Benguet—a remote multigrade school nestled high in the mountains of the Cordillera.
For Dr. Jennifer Longchasen and her Foundations of Education class—Groups 1, 2, 3, and 4—this was more than an intellectual exercise. It was a mission to connect, give, and witness resilience firsthand. Each group had been assigned special tasks designed to bring joy to the students. Accompanying them were two PHAS graduates, Dr. Camella Mae K. Mangili and Dr. Pablito S. Yanes, Jr., along with the CES Coordinator of the Graduate School, Dr. Michael Y. De Roxas, and the Dean of the Graduate School and International Relations Officer, Dr. Genevieve B. Kupang.
Mr. Jemory T. Cambato, TES School Head, delivers his welcome remarks, while Professor Jennifer Longchasen shares her solidarity message, emphasizing the significance of the partnership.
The road was an endurance test. From La Trinidad, what seemed a little trip turned into an hour of bone-jarring terrain where jeepney tires skidded over loose stones and steep drop-offs loomed just beyond the small road. One student said, clutching a box of donated goods, “It’s like the mountain itself doesn’t want us here.” But the reward showed up as the convoy crested the last ridge: a little sitio tucked in a valley with sunlit fields shining like a secret world unspoiled by time and weathered rooftops.
At the center of the town, Talinguroy Elementary was a small building with a new center stage common to Baguio institutions. Arriving past nine in the morning, the BCU team discovered sixty students practicing for their forthcoming graduation and moving-up event. Kinder students staggered through choreography next to older friends, their mismatched clothes flapping in the breeze as laughter erupted above the sound of pine trees. The principal of the school shook hands firmly and smiled warmly at the volunteers. He said, “Thank you for coming.” “Knowledge of someone out there who cares enough to visit means a lot to our children.”
The volunteers joined the enthusiasm right away. With their speaker blaring upbeat music, Group 1 led a vibrant zumba class. The laughter of the volunteers and children reverberated off the mountainside as they swayed and stomped. The other groups, meanwhile, planned games that turned the schoolyard into a hive of activity. Both students and volunteers cheered and bonded over simple competitions like races, relay challenges, and makeshift games. Even the most bashful pupils gave up their practice lines to participate, their hesitancy turning to sheer delight.
Graduate School Group 1’s Zumba session transformed the school stage into a dance floor, blending urban energy with mountain breezes.
Speeches were then given at the main stage of the school. The principal talked about the difficulties his students faced, including the long commute to school, the lack of supplies, and the difficulty of learning in a classroom with several teachers and few resources. The children were then called into a circle by the dean of BCU’s Graduate School for a song, a lively melody with clapping rhythms and lyrics about “dreaming big, no matter where you are.” By the second chorus, everyone was singing, voices rising through the pines like wind.
Students’ eyes widened as Jollibee spaghetti snacks were distributed to them; the rich tomato sauce and well-known noodles are a rare treat in a community where meals are typically straightforward and prepared at home. Teachers and adult volunteers shared a savory spread called chewy diket (rice cake), roasted camote (sweet potato), and boiled plantains as the volunteers gathered under a tree for their own merienda. One BCU student chuckled as he peeled back the charred skin of a plantain, saying, “This tastes like the countryside.”
The kids finally saw what they had been waiting for: backpacks full of supplies. As volunteers presented their new treasures to the students, each one stepped forward, eyes wide. “This smells like home!” said one boy, holding his bag like a prize.—a reference to the fabric’s crisp, new scent from the donor’s hands.
Talingguroay Elementary School learners proudly held their new backpacks, each filled with notebooks and pencils—simple yet meaningful gifts. Pictured are Dr. Michael De Roxas, CES Coordinator of the Graduate School, and graduate school students distributing these tokens of support.
The volunteers assembled for lunch, which consisted of a substantial portion of pinikpikan, a traditional Igorot dish of chicken stewed with herbs and vegetables. The meal, which was shared by the BCU graduate school students, professors, CES Coordinator, and dean was a celebration of community and friendship. Over steaming plates, conversations flowed, bridging the divide between the rural and urban milieu.
BCU graduate school volunteers preparing to paint the school roof.
The BCU team worked together to repaint the weathered school exterior, using brushes and buckets of green and yellow paint. They applied a fresh coat to the faded roof to protect it from rain. The sun-bleached grilled walls now gleamed, and even the wooden heart-shaped chair in the front yard where students gather to hear stories was sanded and repainted vivid red, drawing admiration.
BCU GS volunteers paint the heart-shaped bench and the fences.
Why Outreach Matters: More Than a Day’s Work
The BCU team learned that community outreach is more than just delivering items. It is about seeing, being seen, and creating connections across geographic, privileged, and situational barriers. The significant encounter served as a reminder to Talinguroy’s learners that their hardships are not insignificant and that someone cares enough to scale a mountain and tell them, “You matter.”
The experience was equally transformative for the BCU volunteers. Before witnessing a child clutch a backpack as if it were a treasure or standing in a classroom where teachers struggle with scarce resources, some acknowledged they had never given much thought to the realities of rural education. One student paused while painting a wall and remarked, “I kept thinking, ‘This is only a few kilometers from La Trinidad.’” However, it seems like a different world. Half in wonder, half in remorse, she trailed off, “They don’t even know what a Jollibee looks like.”
The word hung there. For the volunteers, Jollibee—a fast-food restaurant chain that is present in almost every town in the Philippines—had come to represent city life. Convenience, familiarity, and the unseen strands of infrastructure that most people take for granted were all represented to them. However, these luxuries seemed as far away to Talinguroy’s learners as the neon lights of the city.
A view to the horizon where young minds dream and futures take flight. Dean Genevieve B. Kupang and PHAS graduate Dr. Camella Mae Mangili pose for posterity, sharing the joy of volunteerism.
Overhearing the conversation, a volunteer nodded. She handed a bucket of paint to a fellow volunteer and remarked, “You assume distance by miles.” Her words lingered in the air, subtly challenging the idea that proximity alone ensures connection: “But here, distance is measured by the roads that don’t exist, the bridges that have washed away, the schools that risk being forgotten.”
Outreach fosters empathy—a muscle that grows stronger with use. In a world increasingly fragmented by digital screens and urban isolation, moments like these remind us of our shared humanity. The laughter over Zumba, the shared bites of merienda, the collective effort to repaint a roof—all of it built bridges that no road could match. As the principal later reflected, “When people come here not to pity, but to share, it changes something in us. It tells our learners that the world isn’t just big—it’s kind.”
And kindness, the team realized, is contagious. The act of giving becomes a ripple effect: a child inspired to study harder, a teacher motivated to keep going, a volunteer rethinking how they might contribute beyond a single day. While the BCU group would return to their studies and routines, the echoes of their work would linger—in brighter walls, fuller backpacks, and the quiet certainty that even in the most isolated places, no one stands alone.
By late afternoon, the school buzzed with newfound vibrance. The courtyard, once dusty and worn, now shimmered with color. Students posed for photos beside the freshly painted walls, their backpacks slung over their shoulders. As the BCU team packed their tools, the principal gathered the group for a final thank-you. “You didn’t just bring supplies,” he said. “You brought joy.”
The descent back to Baguio was quieter, the volunteers… tired but fulfilled. In the fading light, the mountains seemed less imposing, their peaks softened by twilight. For the Talinguroy learners, the day was a fleeting but powerful reminder: they mattered. For the BCU team, it was proof that compassion isn’t measured in miles or months—it’s found in a single backpack, a shared dance, or the simple act of painting a bench red.
As the jeepneys rolled into the city, their headlights cutting through the gathering dark, one truth lingered in the air: Sometimes, the most profound connections aren’t built over time. They’re forged in a single day, beneath a mountain sky, where hope and humanity meet. The BCU volunteers thanked the TES school head Sir Jemory T. Cambato, Sir Esmael I. Batling, Sir Mark S. Olito, Sir Kevin A. Panisigan, and Ma’am Jade D. Olapen for partnering with the Baguio Central University.
After a fulfilling day of painting the school roof, fences, and benches, playing with the learners, and distributing school supplies, BCU Graduate School volunteers and their coordinator gathered to celebrate the spirit of volunteerism and the deep satisfaction of making a meaningful impact.
