Wedding Stinger

Apr 30, 2011 by

My career as an event host started with weddings. Lacking with proper management and commercial expertise of a personal agent, I settled for already-minimal fees that predictably get haggled to the bottomest of cheapstakes. I did not complain because I needed the experience. I did not behave like the diva that I am now because I was not fully aware of my rights back then. I enjoy hosting jobs because although the ceremonies are templates, the stories of each couple are unique and always… for the books.

It starts at the church. For every church everywhere in the Philippines, there is always this one person who is called the ‘coordinator’. They are in-charge of church events, from weddings, to burials, to baptisms, to mass blessings of jeepneys and scooters. Kevin calls them ‘the mafia’ because they are vicious and boss-like. They have a list of ‘not-to’ list. Don’t touch the cassette tape player, lower the volume, flowers should be this, no scotch tapes on the pews, no backless tops, etc. They hardly smile and I have come to a conclusion that they probably suffer from asphyxiation of the incense. Or just plain incense-itive.

At church, the drama for the newlyweds and their family is creepy. In one wedding, the church was surrounded by policemen it looked like they were getting ready for a riot. We found out that the bride asked for police security because the ex-fiance of the groom threatened to hinder the wedding from happening. In another wedding, the newly-wedded couple was supposed to take the horse-carriage after the pronouncement a la freaking Cinderella. Before the couple could get into the carriage, fireworks lit the sky to signal the celebration. But alas, the poor horse went berserk and with powerful hindlegs, it kicked in fear and panic. So instead of the carriage, the bride took the ambulance to the hospital, all bruised and bleeding.

Weddings are highlighted at the reception venue where speeches are given, videos of love and gross childhood are shown, toasts are proposed and a whole bunch of wanting to be ‘unique’ are staged. Here, we discover family secrets. Rumors abound among the lechon-chomping relatives. Clothes are criticized and so are the jewelry, bad hairdo and cakey make up. The whole fanfare becomes extremely exciting, nevermind the host who is mistaken for a disc jock in a sorry-assed FM radio station: me. Most people have a notion that wedding hosts are ‘announcers’ — credit goes to voice modulation and the sick-sick AmSpeak evident among low-quality DJs on FM radio. Like this Bacolod-based host who also sings at weddings and his grammar suck. Big time.

Dream on.

Cakes vary in height, they’re sometimes unbelievable. Cakes with Swarovski crystals that costs an entire month’s rent in a Makati condominium are smothered for fun called freaking cake-fight. Lavish giveaways are distributed: expensive wines, figurines made out of human skull from Auswitch, native products, imported products, the bonanza!

Although I spoke of mostly crazy weddings in this blog, there are weddings that I also truly loved. Weddings where the couple kept the celebration simple, sincere and unpretentious. Weddings that are genuinely a celebration of love, where families share tables, talk to one another and not spend the night at the dinner tables texting.

My kind of cake.

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