“I
was just on the edge of getting married, and I was frenzied at the
prospect of this great step in my life after having been a bachelor
for so long. And I really wanted to take my mind off of the agony,
and so I decided to sit down and write a book”
- Ian
Fleming
“Who will come to the Wedding?” I ask Elsa.
“How
many do you want to come?”
“I
don't know.”
“If
we leave it open, most of the barangay will attend, and we will need
to kill a cow and six pigs for the reception.”
Not
wanting to be responsible for such carnage, I suggest we keep the
wedding to around 100 people. And besides, the poblacion barangay
(central city ward) consists of over 2,000 people. Here in the
Philippines the bridegroom is responsible for all wedding costs and
such a feast is more than I can afford. We set the wedding date for
October 7th – the same day as my birthday – birthday
celebrants also are responsible for all costs. So we can kill two
birds with one stone and save money by serving food from the wedding
reception at the birthday party in the evening.
The
wedding will be at St. Joseph's the Worker Church in Montevista. I
was baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church so there will be no
problems with the arrangements even though I'm non-religious and
haven't been inside a Catholic Church in almost 50 years. I agree to
the ceremony because Elsa is a lay leader in the church, the
President of the PCC and the local GKK lay organizations, and it
would be unseemly for her not to be married in the church.
Furthermore, she would not be allowed to continue in her offices if
she married outside the faith.
 |
| St. Joseph's Church where the wedding will take place. |
Risa
helps prepare 50 wedding invitations and Elsa hand delivers them. The
invited guests include 32 people Elsa has asked to serve as our
godparents, including the mayor of Montevista and the former
provincial governor. Vising says she and Pare Udong want to be our
godparents, too, even though they are more than ten years our
juniors.
“I
will be your mommy,” Mare says. “Udong your papa.”
Elsa
wants to have the reception at St. Bridget's convent, a half mile
down the road from St. Joseph's in Montevista. The Bridgetine Sisters
are a religious order named after St. Bridget of Sweden. I didn't
know there were any saints in Sweden, but it seems they are
everywhere.
We
take a tricycle down the road past the market a couple of kilometers
where we come upon the gates of St. Bridget's. We ring a bell and
after a short wait, the gate creaks open and Sister Carmen stands
before.
“Welcome
to our home,” she says as she bows before us. A short, squat woman
in her 60s, she speaks excellent English which she picked up from
living in the U.S. for several years. She is from the area and many
of her relatives live just across the road. We follow her toward the
convent, passing a large fountain basin surrounded by yellow trumpet vines, the centerpiece of a landscaped and well groomed grounds and garden.
Inside
the convent, Sister Carmen leads us into an antechamber where Saint
Bridget and Pope Francis stare down at us from pictures on the wall.
Sister Carmen motions us to a cushioned bench where we sit while she
takes the adjoining chair. We commence to discuss the arrangements.
“How
many will attend?” she asks.
“About
150,” Elsa answers. The numbers keep going up.
“Then
you should plan on 175,” says Sister Carmen. “Many more will come
to eat.” She looks over at me and explains, “It is the Filipino
way.” My savings are almost exhausted and I'm getting concerned.
We discuss the food, which must include manok (chicken), lechon
(roast pig), macaroni salad, ice cream, and of course the wedding
cake. Sister Carmen will do the shopping and butchering and arrange
all the decorations. She takes us on a tour of the grounds. In the
back of the convent, the nuns work a vegetable garden and also raise
livestock for their food, including turkeys.
“Would
you like turkey for the reception?” she asks. Sounds good to me, so
we put it on the menu. (I haven't yet tasted Philippines turkey –
quite a bit more stringy and tasteless than what I'm used to). Sister
Carmen shows us the rooms and the space where the reception will be
held. Then we see the chapel.
“It
would be perfect for the wedding,” says Elsa. “Could we have the
ceremony here?”
“We
used to have weddings in the chapel, but our new Mother Superior will
not allow it,” says Sister Carmen. I detect some discontent in her
voice – perhaps resentment at the changes?
“She's
the Indian?” asks Elsa. Sister Carmen nods. I'm thinking she's
speaking about an indigenous person, a lumad, or native Filipino, but
just then a tall nun turns the corner and joins us in the anteroom –
it is the Mother Superior and I soon realize that they are talking
about a nun recently arrived from India. Elsa cajoles Mother
Superior, begging her to let us hold the wedding in the chapel.
Mother Superior hesitates, and Elsa continues to cajole. Finally, the
nun nods in agreement.
“I'm
very surprised,” says Sister Carmen after the Mother Superior
leaves. “She hasn't allowed anyone to use the chapel.” Elsa can
be persuasive. Then she asks Elsa where we will live after the
wedding. Elsa tells her we are staying in Tagum.
“You
should stay in Montevista,” Sister Carmen tells me. She can't
understand why anyone would live in the city. “Too noisy and no one
knows their neighbors. Montevista is much better. Fresher air. You
know your neighbors.” Then she suggests we move to the convent.
“You stay in one of our spare rooms. Take your morning strolls in
the garden. We have a room with an air con.” More pressure to move
to Montevista. The morning strolls in the garden sound tempting, but
I can't imagine living in a convent.
 |
| I get a haircut at Three Sister's Salon in Mawab in preparation for the wedding. Hilda (the man drying my hair) owns the salon and is one of the three sisters. The other two men are his "sisters." |
We
return to Tagum the next day. In the morning, Elsa's brother Ray
visits. It is his first visit to our home. I offer him some brewed
coffee and ask if he has tried it before. He says he has enjoyed
brewed coffee at government executive meetings and so is not
unfamiliar with it. I give him a cup and he smiles and politely
drinks the coffee.
“It's
good,” he says, but I don't think he really enjoys it. He sips at
it slowly. Then he spots the karaoke machine we have hooked up to our
TV and his face lights up.
“Would
it be alright if I bring my motorcycle club here for a meeting?” he
asks. He assures me the members are all professionals – government
officials, engineers, businessmen. “They will cause no problem,”
he says.
“Go
for it,” I tell him.
About
a week later, in the early evening, just outside our gate, we hear
rumbling sounds. I open the gate and there's a dozen men with their
wives and girlfriends sitting on the back of their motorcycles,
revving their engines. I wave them in and they park in the courtyard.
While
Ray and his club members have their meeting, I brew coffee and we
make some spaghetti. We are expected to provide the refreshments. The
wives and girlfriends join us in the sala (living room) while the men
meet in the courtyard. The meeting goes on for an hour and then we
join the group outside.
One
of Ray's friends is manager at a local beach resort. Ray mentions
that Elsa and I are getting married. He whispers something to the
manager and he offers us a free night at the resort as a wedding
present. Of course, the free night never materializes, but it is a
nice gesture. Ray goes inside and starts the Karaoke machine. He is a
good singer as are most of Elsa's family although none quite so good
as Elsa. The resort manager joins in and he is a excellent singer.
Perhaps, like Elsa, he could have been a professional. He was invited
to sing on the Philippines version of “The Voice.” Ray asks him
to sing at our wedding reception and he agrees. Ray will be master of
ceremonies at the reception and all of Elsa's brothers will speak.
The wedding party will consist of family members and godparents. The
arrangements are now complete – except for the marriage license and
an affidavit we must obtain attesting to my suitability for marriage.
For this we must make a trip to Cebu.
(to
be continued)
