Two Weddings and A Monkey (Part 3)
As the family of the groom, we were traditionally expected to shoulder, if not the expenses, then the job of playing nanny to the bride's family and friends. And so we did. On the very night we arrived after a two-day road and sea trip, we gritted our teeth and steeled our travel-weary spines as we surrendered cars and manpower, even for the most inconsequential and sometimes uncoordinated trips.
Poor Atch, who spent the rest of that night ferrying wedding gifts, make-up artists, photographers, friends of the bride, and various other hangers-on. Poor Tatay, who went with him to serve as navigator on the dark and bumpy roads from one district to the next - back and forth, back and forth. Poor Deedee, who hovered and fluttered over everything in a panic, having been appointed impromptu wedding coordinator over the whole affair.
Poor Dudu, who rushed out with the last remaining vehicle, responding to a frenzied phone call from the bride to make sure that her parents, who were decorating the church, had had their dinner. Dudu made her own hesitant way on streets she had never driven on, only to find out that it was a false alarm. Poor Emil, Dada's loyal boyfriend, who was there solely as our guide in unfamiliar territory, but ending up a chauffer-and-baggage-carrier extraordinaire, missing his dinner by more than 5 hours in the bargain.
But most of all, poor Nonoy, probably the only groom in the history of wedding-dom who gave up his car for the comfort of the make-up artist, videography crew and Lord knows who else, riding to the church in, of all public utility vehicles, a tricycle (!!!), while fully bedecked in his wedding barong and shiny black shoes.
Nonoy got hitched at a turn-of-the-century church on the coast of Dauis, Bohol, a spitting distance from the sea. Its claim to fame was a fresh-water spring that had miraculously spouted up during the Spanish era, after townspeople hiding from marauding pirates prayed fervently in their desperation of hunger and thirst. The spring had been analyzed to contain zero microorganisms, and it was said to cure all ills of those who drank from it. Before we left, we intended to fill up several gallons worth.
We were all solemn in the melting humidity as the ceremony progressed. Even Woog managed to behave reasonably well in his stifling coin-bearer outfit.
The choir's voices soared up to the immense domed ceiling, and descended slowly down upon us in gentle diminuendos, raising goosebumps among the congregation. At the back of the church, Atch and I took turns chasing Eli, who was bent upon exploring all the dusty and cobwebby nooks and crannies of ancient baroque architecture.
Eli and Eish
"Romeo" and his rose
The reception was held by the lip of the sea, the many hanging lanterns casting a warm glow on skin, white tablecloths, and the raised wooden deck. The breeze blew in, carrying salty sea air, and as the bride and groom kissed in the luminous dark, a thousand fireworks exploded over the water, blowing away much of the exhaustion and ushering in a satisfied relief.
Nonoy had gotten himself a competent handler. All was well with the world.
Eli at the edge of the Dauis seacoast
Eli and Mom walk the red carpet
*****
The next morning, despite our previous late and alcohol-laden night, we bounded out of our beds early, eager to face our first free (and only) day as tourists. We had to wait for a couple more hours for the family and friends of the bride to get ready, but as the sun slowly approached the sky's zenith, we decided we were absolved of our nanny duties and enthusiastically sallied forth:
And yes, I kissed a monkey.
We all did.
Eli's response to: "Don't touch the monkeys."
The following day, we had a repeat of our tedious land-and-sea journey back home. It's been two months since that day. We're still bone-tired.
1 comment:
oh the wee monkey!
how cute.
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