Chapter 3

A Catholic Education

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TOCAYO
Part 1
Prologue
Playa Norte
Charly the American
A Catholic Education
Cold Showers
A Peruvian Name...
Tossing Armando...
Bob Cousey's Shorts
Inside Immaculada
Warming the Bench...
A Little Socrates...
Running From Lola
Ping Pong Politics
A Perfect Basketball Day
A Man Needs His Friends
A Pig In a Hole
Condors Over Ticlio
Wrestling in the Plaza
Handcuffs and Curfews
Rochabus
A Hero Hiding
Hitting A Brick Wall
Part 2

"Professor," I explained, "I do not know very much history, but at least I am aware that I do not know very much history. That is a clear indication that I am aware of the relation of my limited knowledge to the vastness that is the field of history. I believe, therefore, that I have grasped the fundamental point of your teachings, the big picture, as it were. For that alone I should receive a passing grade. Don’t you agree?”

"No, Señor Gamarra, unfortunately for you, I do not agree."

How I loved Professor Pezespada! I continued with our debate. "But Professor Guzman, with whom you often share a table at lunch, has taught us in philosophy class that those of us who know how little we actually know are the ones who really know the most. Do you think the two of you should have a chat to discuss this point?"

Pezespada's eyes had narrowed into evil slits, but his voice remained even. "Plato, for all his philosophical fame, never distinguished himself as an historian. Perhaps an opinion as useless as the one you so eloquently paraphrased had something to do with it."

"Perhaps, it does professor, but in Plato's day, even someone as dedicated to knowledge as yourself would have found the boundless possibilities of philosophy more interesting than the scant history of a young world, no? And then as now, you would have more respect for a student who in deference to The Truth did not fill in sheet after sheet of paper with nonsense, hoping to fool you with a parade of empty words, would you not?"

My classmates stopped writing and took a look at the parade of empty words they had been writing in hopes of fooling the good professor. One by one they looked up. Pezespada noticed the students' reaction and, frowning at me over his glasses, tried to extricate himself from my rhetorical tangle. "That is not the point, is it Señor Gamarra?" He did not wait for an answer. "The student's choice is not between trying to fool the teacher and being an honest young man, but between applying himself to his studies or neglecting them."

"I understand, professor," I said, enjoying myself immensely. "That is indeed our first choice. But most of us dispense with it quickly, and having chosen to neglect our studies, we face a more difficult choice. Do we admit our ignorance or do we pretend . . ."