My close friend's wedding

Promises are made to be broken. Perhaps this is true for other people but not for me. Because when I made a promise to my friend who migrated last November 2001 to New Zealand that we will attend each other’s wedding no matter where it is going to be held, I made good my promise by taking one week off and flying to Auckland, New Zealand. Imagine doing that at the height of the Iraq War and the onset of the SARS virus. Both of which made my Mom so worried. She tried valiantly to hold me back from going. But for me a promise is a promise so off I went.

But that is the least interesting aspect of my most recent sojourn. Attending a wedding has always been a not so interesting event for me, except when it is the time for the bride to throw away the bouquet and all single women (like me) are asked to stand and try our best to catch it. Through the years, I have learned how to stand at the back and just pretend to be catching the bouquet. Good thing in this wedding, there was no throwing of bouquet. She just passed it on to me and then promptly got it back because she wants to keep it for herself. Well, so much for my wish to be the next one.

Still that is not the most interesting. In every wedding, it is always the bride that defines how people would always remember the occasion. Not the groom who always wear a tuxedo or a barong outfit. Not the sponsors nor the bridesmaids but the bride. And always, I noticed that all brides seem to be nervous about the whole event. It is as if they are afraid of being a let down to everyone else but her fiancée. I think it is because she knows that all single women in attendance will be envying her for having finally caught the man of her dreams and for being given the chance to finally walk down the aisle. That all married women are wishing her all the best, some may be skeptic that she has decided to be nailed down to a life called marriage, others will be so welcoming of another recruit.

My close friend's wedding proved to be all these and more. She was very radiant in her simple white gown. She looked very nervous and could not smile at first. But throughout it all, her frontal cleavage that so defines a woman’s femininity and maturity was there for all to see. And saw it was that I captured it in my own digital camera and transported it to our class’ web site. And voila, everybody has been talking about it since then.

Unaware of the commotion she has caused, my friend is still far away in the southern island of Queenstown, happily enjoying her weeklong honeymoon. Thus, her wedding came to pass but still is being talked about. Not her nervousness, not who got the bouquet, not who is this mysterious kiwi boy who finally hooked her. But her cleavage and how she has gotten them. And that made it so memorable and am sure will still be discussed ten years hence, when we have our 20th year of class reunion. Hopefully it is going to be in New Zealand. Who knows?

I visited New Zealand from 22-30 March 2003.