Major Update

August 9, 2008

It’s been three months since I last blogged.  I guess I just really haven’t had the time or the energy to write anything.  A lot of things have happened since then. First and foremost, I got married on May 31.  The ceremony was held at a small chapel in Valle Verde 5 whose name I always forget.  I think it the Our Lady of the Most Blessed Sacrament chapel, or something like that.  By golly, that name is just too long.  It’s like the title of that movie The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain.  If they wanted to get the attendance up at church they should change the names to something that’s shorter and easier to remember, and sounds like a hip restaurant or club like Embassy…of God, or Friday’s… at the Church.  They can then come full circle by offering food and playing music everyone can relate to – like hiphop.  But, I digress.

 

 

  

 

We were joined by a small group of people, about half made up of family and the rest comprised of our closest friends including people who’ve flown in from all over the Philippines and from other countries.  We really planned it that way to make the day as intimate and informal as possible.  No offense to everyone who was married the “traditional” way, but I always had qualms about ceremonies where the bride and groom were always so hard to reach or so busy that they can’t really go around and mingle with their friends, which I guess defeats the entire purpose of the ceremony.  Or those ceremonies where they invite just about every Juan, Pedro and Totoy for God know what reason.  Be it out of courtesy, pity, politics or maybe just getting an extra gift or two, it’s just not appropriate inviting people who have no relevance whatsoever to your lives.  If you don’t want to invite someone for whatever reason, then don’t.  I guess the fact that we were about to leave for the UAE right after our wedding helped.  Haha.  That way we didn’t have to deal with all the drama. 

 

The ceremony itself was short and sweet, and lots of laughter in between.  The kids were playing around the podium behind the priest while the entire thing was going on.  There was no organization whatsoever and we were a bit disappointed with the organizer because the people weren’t properly briefed.  People didn’t even know where to sit, and I didn’t’ even know where I had to stand or what I was supposed to do at the altar.  One of our sponsors even missed his cue.  It should have been the responsibility of the organizers to get these things sorted out before the ceremony started.  In fact people were asked to be there early for that very purpose.  In any case, we took everything in stride and just enjoyed ourselves.  We pretty much just winged the entire thing. Oh and we hated the priest but that didn’t really concern us.  What concerned us more was that he gave his sermon in Filipino when we specifically asked to have it in English for the sake of our foreign guests.  Anyhow, I can’t even remember what it was he spoke about.  I guess we’ll just have to relive the horror once we get the tapes. 

 

The reception was held at Café Ysabel where we got a really great discounted package for the entire lot.  We had initially booked for 100 guests but of those only about 92 appeared which is already a huge success.  It pays to actually know the people you invite.  It was a sit down dinner with 5 courses beginning with a smoked salmon salad and a lobster bisque soup.  It was followed by the main dish of either salmon or stake and then finally Peter Pan pie for dessert   If you’ve ever been there, the place is just a house that was converted into a restaurant so it’s a little tight but that just added to the informal atmosphere.  Some people were late but as soon as everyone had sat down even before the program had started, the place was already buzzing with conversation and people were generally just having a good time.  

 

Speaking of the program, there really wasn’t any specific program.  There was just some sort of guideline as to how the entire thing should normally proceed.  I had just pulled out then and there a couple of my friends and asked them to do the emceeing, and told them to just play it by ear.  They in fact did a great job except that the speakers weren’t working on one side of the restaurant so pretty much people in that area didn’t’ know what the hell was going on.  In any case, the “program” itself went very well.  It was like our last desperate attempt at having a semblance of tradition. 

 

Another of the out of plan things that happened was that we had the photoshoot with the guests before dinner.  It was scheduled to be during or after dinner, which is normally the case with weddings, but because a lot of people were late coming from the church, we just decided to go through with the picture taking.  This again played to our favor because it allowed us to actually just go around the tables during dinner and mingle with our friends.  I’ve never been to a traditional wedding where the bride and groom have actually taken the time to go around and sit down with the guests and maybe have a drink or two.  If we had followed the “plan”, then it would have certainly been like that where we would go around the tables one by one and we’d have 4 or 5 minutes tops for each one.  

 

The reception pretty much went very smoothly and, I guess, the organizer compensated for their transgressions during the ceremony.  Haha.  Even the photographers were very nice, except that they weren’t able to take any pictures of us or the guests arriving at the reception.  There also weren’t any picture of the guests at their tables but that’s all good.  It’s one of those minor details that you can do away with. 

 

We had our first dance, the cake cutting and a very funny yet touching speech from my best man.  He’s been one of my closest friends since college, maybe not by choice, but that’s another story.  Haha.  I also surprised my wife with a wedding gift that my sister and the organizer had been hiding until the right moment.  I bought a pair of matching his and her’s Longines diver’s watches in Dubai just three weeks before the wedding and it took all of my limited emotional quotient to keep myself from telling her all about it.  I started wearing the watch as soon as I bought it but just asked my sister to hide it as soon as I arrived in Manila.  I’d was so excited that I couldn’t help but give her so many hints in the weeks prior to our wedding.  I first asked her what she wanted as a wedding gift half-expecting she’d ask for a watch – the watch lover that she is.  Instead, she asked for a pair of pearl earrings that matched her wedding gown.  I guess this was due in part to her feeling a little bad about all my expenses for the wedding.  Anyway, I knew she wanted the earrings also so I got them for her but had she asked for a watch, I probably would have giggled my ass off and she would have known then and there that I got her one.  I guess that made her all the more surprised when she realized that I had another gift for her. 

 

We also had a post-reception party at Moksha which is just five minutes walk away from the reception, but I doubt anyone walked.  It was mainly our friends who came to the party, which was good considering the size of the place.  I think the maximum number of people that they could hold for the front area is only about 30 people but we had about 40 people that night.  Regardless, people just enjoyed themselves and pretty much got rowdier with each passing hour.  I had initially set the tab at PHP 15K but that went all the way up to PHP 30K when the night was done.  I was so drunk I was concerned whether I would be able to sign properly on the receipt.  Every now and then a waiter would update me on the tab but at one point I could hardly read the receipt, but I guess the waiter was more afraid about me not being able to pay.  Anyway, I’m known to be a rational drunk.  Even when I’m utterly inebriated, I make it a point to summon all my will to keep myself calm and coordinated.  I do try to vomit it all out but that night it didn’t really help.  Someone had come up with the idea of some lame contest where I had to answer questions about my wife.  It was pretty easy enough but each time I made a mistake, I had to drink a shot of tequila.  Before the night was over, I’d probably taken down at least a dozen types of alcohol.  It was so bad that after signing the final bill, I had to ask one of my friends to take us home. 

 

People in general had fun.  It was a very relaxed and informal wedding which allowed people to socialize and let loose without having to bother with all the uptight rules of more traditional weddings.  One of our friends even told me that that was the only wedding where she actually had fun while another said that that was how a wedding should really be.  And personally, I also greatly enjoyed the occasion.  It was intimate and romantic for both of us yet at the same time allowed us to spend one last great time with all our closest friends and family before leaving the country.  It didn’t come out exactly as we had planned but it worked out just as well in the end.  

 

Unfortunately, I had to return to Dubai a week after the wedding.  My sister and wife brought me to the airport still in vacation mode.  Little did I know that as soon as I’d stepped out of the car that it would be the beginning of an entirely new ordeal.   

 

Check in was easy enough because I’d completed it online.  I’m not sure why there aren’t more people doing it but there’s usually just one or two people in line and it just takes about five minutes to get your bags across.  I tried to bring in as much stuff as I could so that we wouldn’t have to ship any thing from Manila but, as it turned out, I was about 20kg overweight.  My hand-carry alone weighed 17kgs while my single check in bag weighed about 33kgs.  I had to ask my wife to turn around and get some of the other things otherwise I would’ve had to pay quite a sum for the excess.  Apart from that tiny little issue, I had no problems with check in.   I can’t imagine what would’ve happened had I not checked in online.  By the time I reached the counters, they would’ve been long gone and it would’ve been impossible turning around fast enough.   

 

I went through to pay for the terminal fee, feeling satisfied that the check in went well.  As usual, the lines at immigration were really long.  It took me about 20 minutes to get to the counter only to realize that immigration officer was such a nightmare.  I already have a residence visa stamped on my passport so by all means I have every right to step back into Dubai.  However, he viewed it differently.  He tells me the fact that I’m going there for work, I had to get myself some shitty fucked up certificate from the POEA.   

 

I’d done the whole POEA thing before when I first flew to Dubai knowing that it was a requirement.  It took me an entire week to get all the unnecessary documents sorted out and submitted.  I also took a full medical exam for about 2500 PHP which they said was required by the destination country, which I never used, and paid some 5000 PHP for the certificate which was only useful to get a waiver of the travel tax worth 1200 PHP.  I had to line up several hours in a room full of people without air conditioning just so I could spend five minutes at a counter talking to some processor whose sole purpose was to check if the documents I had submitted were complete.  I attended a seminar where they had a Western Union representative make a pitch about their products, and some has-been government employee give a presentation about the do’s and don’ts in the Middle East as well as a rather pejorative description of its people.

 

Anyway, I was not willing nor had the time to get another certificate.  The immigration officer was unhelpful, not willing to explain the matter and looked as though he had a huge stick up his ass.  He insisted that he would not let me in while I was flabbergasted at how this power-tripping bastard asshole had the gall to treat people like that.  I tried to explain to him that I already had a certificate and it was only 2 months ago that I originally left for Dubai, and that I only returned to the Philippines to get married.  I also told him that my sister and their yaya just passed through the same immigration counters the day before without any issues. 

 

You can only imagine the kind of frustration I was experiencing.  I realized it was hopeless so I marched myself all the way to the “Officer Of the Day” counter which I guess was put there to assist when there are issues like this.  All the fucking idiot had to say was that it was the immigration officer’s decision.  I don’t believe it.  Three months back I paid a visit to the Bureau of Immigration to clarify this POEA requirement.  In one of our discussions they mentioned that even if they interpreted the regulations in one way, it was still up to the lowly immigration officers to make the final decision, and that their interpretation could be different.  How stupid!? Motherfuck… Not only does that not clarify anything, it also supports my belief that anyone and everyone who works for the government is corrupt, inept or stupid unless they otherwise prove it to me through action. Again, I digress. 

 

While I was vehemently trying to explain the situation to the useless Officer of the Day, the immigration officer actually stepped out of his fucking cubicle and ran after me.  I guess he saw that I was on my way to get “clarification”.  He went over to me, literally grabbed my boarding pass and wrote offloaded across it in bold letters.  I should have laid a knuckle on his ugly fucking kisser right there.  Instead, I ran over to the check in counter and requested for assistance.  All they could do was reprint the boarding pass and advise me to line up at another counter.  And so I did, being careful to choose the nicest looking officer I could find.  I chose to line up at this old lady who I though I might be able to charm into letting me through.  Boarding was just 40 minutes away and I knew it would take at least another 20 to 30 minutes to get to the immigration counter.  And so I waited, and I prayed.  I actually thought that it was some sort of sign, that maybe the plane was going to crash or something and God didn’t want me on it. Or, that maybe he was telling me that I’m not supposed to go to Dubai, and that I’m meant to stay in Manila.   

 

It did take about 20 minutes to get to the counter.  It was already 6:30 PM and the boarding time was at around 6:45 PM.  I pretty much had no time to explain so I just jumped into begging mode.  I pleaded with her again saying that I just came home to get married and lied a little bit saying that one of my sons was in Dubai waiting for me.  It took her a bit and even consulted with some random immigration guy who happened to pass by.  In the end, she let me through hesitantly.  She was concerned about getting the reprimanded or something if I got held up after the immigration counter – which up to now baffles me because there is only one immigration check.  I guess she just had to make some lousy excuse not to let me through hoping I wouldn’t persist.   

 

As soon as she let me through, I literally ran across only to be stopped by another set of x-ray machines.  I was trying to squeeze myself through when they kindly opened up the VIP lane so I could get through quickly.  Thank goodness I was only wearing slippers otherwise, if I’d worn one of my boxing shoes, it would have taken seemingly ages just getting them on and off.  I also took my belt off but because I had no time to stop, I didn’t bother putting it back on.  It was sort of a bad idea because it’s hard enough running to the gate with a couple of bags let alone having to hold on to your pants at the same time. 

 

I made it just in the nick of time, thankfully.  I even managed to make sure that the crew gave the go signal to get my luggage onto the plane as it was put on standby.  That was one disaster averted but my ordeal didn’t end there.   

 

The plane was delayed taking off for about an hour.  During that time, I took the opportunity to rest and pray that the assholes at immigration would go to hell and suffer waiting long lines to get to heaven only to be rejected.  It was bad enough that we were delayed but the flight attendant, some faggot assigned to our area, was having his PMS or something.  He was obviously irritable but he didn’t have the right to be so unprofessional and rude.  When distributing snacks, he would just literally just throw them on our tables and he would forget to bring water or any drinks to the persons next to me.  It wasn’t that bad for me, I was just happy being on the plane but seeing how he behaved just pissed me off a little more. 

 

I tried getting some sleep on the plane, but I don’t normally get any comfort in economy so I just tried watching a few movies.  But alas, the system acted up and it took them some time to get it back online.  That’s a minor issue, I know, but you tend to nitpick after going through shit.   

 

Eight hours or so later I land in Dubai at about 11 PM with the temperature was at 35C.  As usual, we had to take a 30 minute bus ride from the tarmac to the gate because the airport just can’t accommodate the volume of passengers that it gets on a daily basis.  I breezed through immigration because I have a e-gate card.  It takes about 10 seconds to get through the get with just a swipe of the card and thumbprint verification.  I wish we could have that in Manila so we can get rid of all the irritating immigration officers.   

 

I was just the third person at the luggage carousels and I really felt I was home free.  It was 11:30 PM but my bags only came out at 12 MN.  By then there was a huge crowd but I still managed to pass through a duty free shop to get some alcohol, to possibly drown myself as soon as I got home.  I wished with all my might that I could just quickly jump on to a taxi and head home.  Unfortunately, there was one last hurdle I that I needed to jump.  Feeling rather helpless, I stood in line, or what was supposed to be a line, for about an hour in the heat while my face was blow-dried by huge industrial fans.  There was no reprieve from the heat, fanning yourself just made it worse and pretty much the only solution was to stand as still as you can.   

 

I finally got on a taxi by 2 AM and it took about half an hour or so to get home.  I just threw my bags in a corner, took a bath and then slumped on the carpet – at that time I had no mattress yet. 

 

And then I woke up at 7 AM for work.  

 

Thankfully I had to be at a conference the entire week after my arrival.  I didn’t have to do any real work but still it takes its toll on you.  I still had to make up for lost sleep, and the conference schedules weren’t exactly in my favor.  Some of the best things that I got out of that week was a delicious lobster dinner and two hours of go-karting at the professional karting track in the the Dubai Autodrome. 

 

This has got to be one of the lengthiest posts I’ve ever written but I’m not done yet.  I still have to upload pictures.