A wedding and a marriage are two different things. One stands for the ceremony, the other, for the commitment. One stands for the party, the other, for the life. One stands for the event everyone is eager to attend, the other, for the situation everyone is eager to meddle with.
In a society that have commercialized weddings into an industry, I often see weddings as a means to throw a party. We are not celebrities nor socialites, who can host annual birthday bashes that will have photography sessions or videos. We are simple people, and weddings become a way of putting together an event where we are king and queen for one day. Where all of our movement, our smiles, our laughter, even the way we put on our shoes, are pieced together in an AVP with a romantic love song for a soundtrack after. How else can you use A Thousand Years as a soundtrack to your normal day-to-day life, without being Bella or Edward?
On Dec. 8, 2012, I know four people who tied the knot with their respective partners. For one, I stood in as a maid of honor, and I thank my dear friend, for allowing me that. It has restored for me the sanctity of the ceremony, and has made me realize why people choose to be 'wed' when they get married.
It started with the night before, as I give up a night of party and beers with other friends, for a night of simple Cinema One pleasure with the bride. We talk about the wedding, family life, other stuff that are nonsense, and everything in between, until she and I fell asleep.
The day of the wedding, we are a bit unsure as to what to do. There are errands, phone calls, people to coordinate. There is a bit of drama here and there as some things don't happen the way we expect them to, but I keep telling myself, don't sweat the small stuff, this will be over soon.
The bride joined me and our other friend standing in as a bridesmaid, in the bathroom, to share a bit of breathing space. There is so much happening outside the bathroom as the entourage prepares, the photographers take photos of the accessories and dress, and congratulatory videos are taken. At that moment, I see the pressure and anticipation in her eyes, and I tell myself, it's time to step it up. It is not about waiting for this to be over soon. It is about making it happen just the way she wants it to.
As I walk here and there to make sure everyone is lined up, the guests are seated where they should be, and the right song is playing, I feel a surge of energy. I used to tell this same friend, every girl needs a friend who will slap her on the face when the friend thinks she's being delusional. And now, every girl needs a friend who will yell, pressure and challenge everyone to ensure the wedding of her dreams happen the exact way she planned it to be.
The wedding coordinator cues to me that all is set, and we can start the march down the aisle. I tell her to stop, there is only one thing that will signify we can start. I turn to the groom and ask him if he's ready, this is the moment. And we stand there for a minute that felt longer, as he hyperventilates a little, and, I can imagine, realizes all this will only be set in motion if and only if, both of them are ready, in more ways than one. He gives me a yes and a smile, and in the same breath, he walks down the aisle.
I eventually get my turn to walk, and while I do so, I smile and I look around - it's a great wedding. As I reach my seat, I turn back and look at the bride. A Thousand Years begin singing into the background, and I think when she took her first step on the aisle with her mom and dad, all of us looking have one collective thought. Perfect. The song is perfect, the dress is perfect, the aisle, the seats, even the breeze at the time is just right.
It is that moment that I realize why people choose to get 'wed' when they get married. A wedding is where your family, and everyone else who know you, come together to give you away to another family. It is a time where your parents and siblings and best friends take it in their hearts that it is no longer just them who are in your life now. It's a means to help the people around you accept and welcome this new person in their own lives. It is how you tell the people around you that you are happy, and that this is your choice, and that you wish they will all be happy for you.
On my turn to give a speech, there are so many things I plan to say, both funny and sad, witty and profound. But everything that needs to be said has been said, and I felt I couldn't give justice to the joy that was in the air that night. I love writing. I love words. But that day, I came to understand the true meaning of a few words I throw around so carelessly - and so chose to be speechless.
I walked away after the reception, and didn't join any afterparties that night, neither with friends, nor with the happy couple. I chose to stay with Ken, under the brightly lit stars, lying down on the beach, with a mango shake and a hotdog.
Congratulations to our bestest friend, Toni, and to our new friend, Carlo. There are no words to describe the joy we feel for you :)
Monday, December 10, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Define: walking
It's been a while now since I have explored a new place, the last time I did that was in Vigan in January of 2011. After that, my trips had been to places that I have gone to before, and mostly just to spend time with friends and relax from work. Next week, I embark once again on a trip to see something new, Siem Reap in Cambodia. It is a trip that my closest friends and I have been planning to make ever since we saw the first Lara Croft movie, there just never was an opportunity to go, or a cheap plane ticket to buy, until this year, when Cebupacific finally got approval to fly there straight from the Philippines.
What I am most excited about is the food. Even as I write, I feel my mouth salivate a little at the thought of what street food I get to sample once we land. When Ken and I go on trips, food is always a major itinerary item, guided by a simple rule: no McDonald's. It was a rule we came up with on our trip to Malaysia in 2009, no taxi rides, no McDonald's.
Three years later, we still abide by this rule. As much as we can, when in a new place, we go around by local transportation, and eat local food. We steer away from taking the taxi because it robs us of the sweet time we can spend walking around and getting lost in the new environment. In a new place, is getting lost any different from knowing your way? It is with vigor and sunshiny enthusiasm that we weave through each town, armed with any map we can obtain from either the tourist centers, or from his iPhone, all mostly on foot, occasionally by train and bus. We stare curiously at food sold on the streets, oftentimes observing first how the passersby buy and eat them, before trying them out ourselves.
One of my most memorable moments of getting lost and discovering great food is in the place I called home once, Singapore. Ken was there for a visit, and per his usual trip, we were out one afternoon, just walking around until we get somewhere. On that day, I couldn't really remember if we planned on going to Arab Street, but that's where we ended up. Looking for an afternoon snack, I brought Ken to a "murtabak" place. I can't remember now, but it might have been a place a Singaporean friend recommended. Murtabak is essentially a crepe with meat filling, served with curry. The place boasts to have been making murtabak for almost 70 years. We watched how the expert cook made murtabak by smoothing an elastic dough on a flat pan, and assembling the fillings. To this day, we always laugh at how he cracked an egg right into the middle of the dough and spread the gooey contents with his hand nonchalantly. Anywhere else, this would have been taken as wrong cooking practice, spoons are made for this task. There, it was a treat to see that your food is made by experts who don't care about cooking show techniques. They use tried and tested skill.
I have never been to Europe, have only been to the US once, and have never set foot in big theme parks like Universal Studios, or Disney. I have never done hard-core mountain climbing, nor have jetski-ed, bunjee jumped, scuba-dived, nor gone white-water rafting. My passport does not boast stamp after stamp of immigration offices from different cities. Yet when asked if I consider myself an experienced traveler, I always answer yes, even if the only stories I can tell are recycled and limited, all of the same places that a lot of people have already been to. I think what makes my stories special is that each experience is unique, in that not many would have tried getting lost the way we did. Not many would have ate the way we did. I am no Andrew Zimmern, eating exotic foods from different places, but I'm happy to share that my palate has now been trained to recognize flavors, texture and aroma, and categorize them according to the nearest type of cuisine they resemble. I'm happy to share that each time I'm in a new destination, I am able to walk to and fro places easily because I have somehow memorized my own landmarks for the place, enough to get lost with a mission. I consider myself an experienced traveler because that is what I do. I experience.
 |
| My current wallpaper, Calle Crisologo in Vigan, Ilocos Sur |
The selling point of the Windows phones is networking. It makes it easy for you to log in to your Facebook, Windows Live, Linkedin and Google accounts. As soon as you load your contacts, the phone finds common names across your various accounts and links them all, and it does so intelligently. Once your Facebook is logged in, it even takes your Facebook albums and loads them into the phone. All of a sudden, your whole online life is connected through one small gadget. When it was still new, my Android tablet was left untouched for five, whole days, and I only actually logged onto my computer for work. All my other online needs, including games, went through the Windows phone. It is on this week that I rediscovered the old photo albums on my Facebook account, and for some time now, I've been interchanging my phone's wall paper to show my most favorite pictures of the few travels that I have done.
It's been a while now since I have explored a new place, the last time I did that was in Vigan in January of 2011. After that, my trips had been to places that I have gone to before, and mostly just to spend time with friends and relax from work. Next week, I embark once again on a trip to see something new, Siem Reap in Cambodia. It is a trip that my closest friends and I have been planning to make ever since we saw the first Lara Croft movie, there just never was an opportunity to go, or a cheap plane ticket to buy, until this year, when Cebupacific finally got approval to fly there straight from the Philippines.
 |
| Bah Kuh Teh, Noodles & Teh Tariks in KL |
What I am most excited about is the food. Even as I write, I feel my mouth salivate a little at the thought of what street food I get to sample once we land. When Ken and I go on trips, food is always a major itinerary item, guided by a simple rule: no McDonald's. It was a rule we came up with on our trip to Malaysia in 2009, no taxi rides, no McDonald's.
Three years later, we still abide by this rule. As much as we can, when in a new place, we go around by local transportation, and eat local food. We steer away from taking the taxi because it robs us of the sweet time we can spend walking around and getting lost in the new environment. In a new place, is getting lost any different from knowing your way? It is with vigor and sunshiny enthusiasm that we weave through each town, armed with any map we can obtain from either the tourist centers, or from his iPhone, all mostly on foot, occasionally by train and bus. We stare curiously at food sold on the streets, oftentimes observing first how the passersby buy and eat them, before trying them out ourselves.
 |
| Murtabak with Teh-O-Pengs (Iced Tea) |
One of my most memorable moments of getting lost and discovering great food is in the place I called home once, Singapore. Ken was there for a visit, and per his usual trip, we were out one afternoon, just walking around until we get somewhere. On that day, I couldn't really remember if we planned on going to Arab Street, but that's where we ended up. Looking for an afternoon snack, I brought Ken to a "murtabak" place. I can't remember now, but it might have been a place a Singaporean friend recommended. Murtabak is essentially a crepe with meat filling, served with curry. The place boasts to have been making murtabak for almost 70 years. We watched how the expert cook made murtabak by smoothing an elastic dough on a flat pan, and assembling the fillings. To this day, we always laugh at how he cracked an egg right into the middle of the dough and spread the gooey contents with his hand nonchalantly. Anywhere else, this would have been taken as wrong cooking practice, spoons are made for this task. There, it was a treat to see that your food is made by experts who don't care about cooking show techniques. They use tried and tested skill.
I have never been to Europe, have only been to the US once, and have never set foot in big theme parks like Universal Studios, or Disney. I have never done hard-core mountain climbing, nor have jetski-ed, bunjee jumped, scuba-dived, nor gone white-water rafting. My passport does not boast stamp after stamp of immigration offices from different cities. Yet when asked if I consider myself an experienced traveler, I always answer yes, even if the only stories I can tell are recycled and limited, all of the same places that a lot of people have already been to. I think what makes my stories special is that each experience is unique, in that not many would have tried getting lost the way we did. Not many would have ate the way we did. I am no Andrew Zimmern, eating exotic foods from different places, but I'm happy to share that my palate has now been trained to recognize flavors, texture and aroma, and categorize them according to the nearest type of cuisine they resemble. I'm happy to share that each time I'm in a new destination, I am able to walk to and fro places easily because I have somehow memorized my own landmarks for the place, enough to get lost with a mission. I consider myself an experienced traveler because that is what I do. I experience.
When you meet someone who can walk as briskly, and as endlessly as you can, stick with that one. You know he's never going to get tired, nor tiring.
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