At breakfast my brother-in-law informed me that our services would not be required until 2pm, so most of the morning was spent lazing around, taking laps around the hotel lobby, catching up on email, and hanging out with the best man and groomsmen. The ladies were under strict instructions not to stray too far, given the massive amount of time it would take them to have their hair and makeup done, but us guys were free to goof off.
Around noon, the wedding planner, Teddy, showed up in Victor's room with his assistants and the photographers. Well, more like the photography CREW. Two still cameras, one video camera, and one lighting guy. Combine that with my camera, Vince's camera and the other people coming and going, and it prompted Victor to comment that it looked like a CSI crime scene with all the flashes, inspections and rearrangements. The photgraphers asked for his barong and shoes on the bed, along with other stuff like cufflinks, belt, cologne. Victor, like his sister, is asthmatic, and in a flash of inspiration - no doubt stemming from the case of jitters and hyperventilation he was no doubt suffering from - he tossed his albuterol inhaler on the bed as well. The chuckle all of us needed, I think.
Finally it was time for our pictures, and we got ready in record time for a few snaps before Mrs. Dave came back all prettied up for her starring role in the ceremony (she had been asked to read the responsorial psalm and the call to the faithful). And then it was off to the church. While we arrived way early in true American fashion, things were running late in true Filipino fashion - ours was the fourth and last wedding at that church for the day, and we got there an hour early and started half an hour late. Fortunately, that gave us time to take some pictures outside and practice our line up just inside the entrance, since we hadn't gotten much chance to rehearse the night before.
The wedding planner's crew was out in full force, directing traffic to and from the pews, to and from the podium/altar, and a minor mishap was avoided when we narrowly missed lighting the wrong candle. As part of a Filipino wedding, two secondary sponsors are supposed to light candles on-stage that the couple then uses to light their own candle together. Except due to the lack of rehearsal, we weren't sure exactly where to go or which candles to light...and we almost lit the wedding candle by mistake. As far as I know we're forgiven.
One ceremony and eight schmillion pictures later, we piled back into the shuttle fans (the happy couple got a white Benz - high style) and headed to the Maynila Ballroom for the pre-dinner cocktail hour. I had one of the strongest margaritas I've ever had - my toes AND hair were curling, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I think my tongue ran for cover in my esophagus - and we mixed and mingled with other wedding guests. Dinner came in about eighteen separate waves, giving us ample time to dance - DANCE! - and watch Mrs. Dave's cute cousins' girls play in the smoke/bubble machines. They even commandeered the microphone from the MC's podium and shared their vocal talent with the rest of us. There were slow dances, fast dances, conga lines, odd segues and remixes (including a DJ-skipped version of "YMCA" that had everyone going "down at the Y-Y-Y-Y-YMCA" - dude, don't mess with the YMCA). We ate mounds of food, danced until we were sore, and practically closed the place down. Actually, we did - we helped the caterers/organizers take some stuff down, and brought the wedding presents up to the bridal suite. My brother-in-law was now married. Welcome to the family, Imelda!
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