Ceremony
Pictorials
Reception
Cake and Cupcakes

Super major thank you to Jovan De Ocampo for designing the invitations, and to Ian Roxas for taking these photos.

I’m so excited that my nerves are in a frenzy. This past week we’ve been pretty relaxed, but now I’m listening to my bridal march song,  and I’m so psyched that just listening to the song brings tears to my eyes. (Check out my epiphany about it from months ago.) Ted of Manila String Machine says they’ve been rehearsing the music they requested, and I can’t wait to hear their renditions of the Star Wars themes we love so much.

In other news, we want our guests to know that we’ll be setting up a wifi router at the reception. We have friends and relatives who won’t be able to make it to the wedding, for various reasons: work, travel, etc. Also, as much as we’d like to, we really can’t invite all our friends. But we’d like them to still be part of the wedding, even if only through virtual means.

So we’d like to ask those of you with wifi-capable mobile/smart phones to post live updates during the wedding. I’m not sure if the router will be on during the ceremony (I doubt it), but it definitely will be during the reception! If you can post photos through your phones, even better! Post them on Facebook, Twitter, Google Buzz, even Plurk! This is the only way we can share our wedding with the rest of the world, as it happens.

Ron will be in charge of the wifi connection, so all guests who wish to connect to the Intarwebs can ask him for the password and other connection details during the wedding. Ron will also try to broadcast the wedding live via video streaming; if you know how to do this, input would be welcome! Send suggestions and questions to rej (dot) oneal (dot) 2010 (at) gmail (dot) com.

Yeah, yeah, we’re really geeks, we want to broadcast our wedding online. But hey, we’re not as bad as the couple that was Tweeting DURING THEIR OWN WEDDING CEREMONY. That was ridiculous.

So what have we been up to? I’ve been trying to tie up loose ends at work so that everything’s okay when I go on leave. Oneal’s been doing the same, I think. Together, we’ve been delivering wedding invitations, getting RSVPs from the guests, and preparing for the despedida de soltera, which is happening this Friday.

Perhaps among the most exciting things we’ve been doing of late are the attire fittings, and the dance lessons. I can’t wait to see my finished dress and veil, and Oneal’s really excited about his barong. And last Sunday, we took our first dance lesson!

In the days to come, we’ll be meeting with our ninongs and ninangs, finishing off supplier payments, and pampering ourselves in time for the wedding.

I can’t wait till I’m married to my hunny bunny.

– rej

some people are surprised at how calm we are, most couples are usually in a stressful panic by now.  Our suppliers marvel at the fact that we can still find time to watch Improv comedy shows instead of worrying about wedding details.

this calmness we attribute to our good friends who are helping with the wedding and our family who are not stressing us (too much)

in one week some of our Principal Sponsors will be arriving from the US. also, Rej’s mom will be going on leave from work to help her out with stuff. i’ll be taking a leave from work too a few days before the wedding.

Honestly, i cant wait for our Star Wars Wedding.

actually, i really cant wait for the Marriage that comes after.

- oneal

As you can see, the list of requirements is about a mile long. But I figured, it’s just tedious, but I can do it. Maybe I could spend a day or two gathering all the documents, and be ready for the initial assessment and interview the next day, or even Monday. A terse but helpful lady at the LCRO Table of Requirements pointed me to step 1, where I could fill up a form to request for the latest certified/local copies of Mom’s and my birth certificates. I filled up and submitted the request, and they told me to go to the next room and wait.

Apparently, all the miserable people, ehem, I mean, applicants, had to wait in this large room, and your name would be called over a sound system. Your request would be handed to you, and you would be directed to an available City Hall employee at the counters, who would tell you what to do next.

I made a mistake with my first attempt, and wrote my mother’s full name on the request for my birth certificate. Since the error was with her name to begin with, naturally they didn’t find the original/local copy of my birth certificate. It was at this point that the clerk told me I would have to go to the hospital where I was born, and ask the clerk there for a copy. I nodded politely, thanked her, and left the waiting room. Then I walked to the corridor near the LCRO Table of Requirements, called Oneal, and promptly started crying. “They couldn’t find my birth certificate *sniff* and now they said *heave* I have to go *sniff sniff* to Mary Chiles! *cough* How the hell am I supposed to know where the hell that is! *sob* I don’t know how to get there!” Around me, other applicants were walking, staring, looking at their own impossible lists.

Oneal did his best to reassure me that we could find the hospital, things would work out, we would find all the documents and make the correction and it would be fine. I’m sure he felt very helpless, sitting in the office while I was in the dusty, decrepit concrete jungle that is Manila City Hall, battling my way through the red tape. Oh hunny, I’m so sorry to have stressed you out.

When I put the phone down, I realized my mistake, and decided to try again. I got two more forms, and filled up one with all the same information that was on my actual birth certificate. I also filled out a request for a copy of my mom’s birth certificate. But by this time it was almost noon, and I feared I would have to wait an hour or two while the city hall employees went on their lunch breaks. To my surprise, a very enthusiastic man at the waiting room counters explained over the PA system that they would not close for lunch, that they would have lunch in shifts, and that they would still process the requests. Despite the fact that the city hall manangs were grumpy, it cheered me up a tad that this nice old man was trying to keep our hopes up.

Eventually my turn came, and thankfully it was a success. Another terse lady called me over, made some notes on my request forms, and told me to walk to the next building, pay the fees, then come back and submit the payment stub at Step 2. With a lighter heart I walked out of the LCRO (damn accursed place) and towards the Taxpayers Lounge. I was but a few feet from the lounge when I was accosted by a nice man, who asked where I was going.

I thought he was a city hall employee, since the other hallways seemed to have other staff whose sole duty was to direct people towards the right office. I said I was going to the Taxpayers Lounge, and he asked what my problem was. So I explained that I was having my birth certificate corrected, and he exclaimed that it was a long and arduous process that would take at least six months. But not to worry! He had a solution, and he beckoned me to follow him to his friend on the second floor, and the problem would be fixed in a week.

Gladly I went with him, complaining about the bureaucracy as we climbed the stairs. On the second floor he led me down the row of councilors’ offices. We stopped outside one such office, and he introduced me to this fat, middle-aged woman sitting by the window, talking to another fat, middle-aged woman. He explained my problem, and told me that this woman (I forget her name) could help me. So I sat beside her, and explained my problem in greater detail. I thought we would enter the councilor’s office and talk there, but the woman seemed perfectly content to hold office by the window. She said if I went the LCRO way, it would take months and months, plus a court hearing, to change my birth certificate.  If I did it her way, she would just write out a court order stating that I had submitted the petition for the correction three months ago, and my birth certificate was now fixed. It would only take a week, and P2,500.

It was while she was explaining the process to me that I noticed she wore no ID, and seemed to have worn a groove in the seat because she was just so comfortable there. She must have noticed the decline in my enthusiasm, because she said it could also be done for only P1,000, but it would take two weeks. It was at this point that I realized: I was actually talking to a fixer! Preparing for this wedding has certainly opened doors to totally new experiences.

When she was done explaining, I said I would have to think about it. She gave me her number, which I dutifully wrote down, and I said I would call her once I had the money. As soon as I was out of her line of sight, I ran downstairs and made a beeline for the Taxpayers Lounge, eager to avoid any other nice old men who would try to offer me the easy way out. Once I was in line to pay the fee, I called Oneal and told him about the whole debacle.

When I got off the phone with Oneal, the pregnant woman in front of me told me she had actually done exactly as Fixer Woman had said, but through a lawyer or something who actually worked at City Hall and was a family friend, someone her family knew and trusted. I think I just politely said I didn’t know anyone at city hall, so I’d just have to stick it out. I paid my fees (which took a comedic turn, because they opened up a Senior Citizen’s lane and one old lady protested when the clerk called her “lola”), went back to the LCRO, submitted my payment stub, and was told to come back on Monday to claim the birth certificates.

By this time it was past 1:00, and there was nothing more I could do at City Hall. I trudged to SM Manila, found myself some meager lunch fare–which I couldn’t even finish–and called Oneal for another update. Notice, by the way, that the day had been spent trying to obtain only items 1 and 2 from Manila City Hall. The other seven items are another story. Abangan!

The confirmation certificate:

Come Tuesday, December 15, we called Mount Carmel, and the verdict was out on my confirmation certificate: the Diocese said we had to get a copy of the original from Abu Dhabi, or at least some sort of certification stating that the confirmation had indeed taken place on the date and at the place we claimed in the original certificate we presented.

Great. How were we supposed to do that? There was an address for the Vicar Apostolic of Arabia on my certificate, but it was just a PO Box. All seemed bleak.

The birth certificate:

As the parish instructed, I went to the City Hall of the municipality where I was born, Manila. Fortunately, Mom was also born in Manila, so if I needed any of her documents from the Local Civil Registry Office (LCRO) it would be one less thing to worry about. At least, that’s what I thought.

I got a copy of Mom’s birth certificate, and made photocopies of mine, and prepared all the wedding documents and my own papers of all sorts from various government offices. Thus armed, I made my way to Manila City Hall on December 17. Fortunately, Tita Baby was able to spare her driver, Dexter, so I didn’t need to contend with traffic or a horrid commute in addition to my already significant distress.

I arrived at Manila City Hall, and found the LCRO. At the entrance was a large table manned by at least four employees, and their sole responsibility, it seemed, was to figure out what people needed to do with their birth, death or marriage certificate, and give them the proper set of requirements and instructions. Given the mass of people who went through that office every single day, it was no wonder they assigned four people to the table. On it, arranged from one end to the other, front to back, were neatly arranged stacks of paper, each stack a different set of instructions and requirements. There were so many different stacks that you couldn’t see the table’s surface. Did I mention that this table was nigh inaccessible? So many people needed corrections on their birth certificates that there was literally a swarm at the LCRO entrance.

My problem was “Correction of Clerical Error on the Middle Name or Mother’s Name of Unmarried Petitioner.” When you think about how specific that is, then you can understand why there were so many variations on the requirements. If I were married, I would have to submit a longer list of papers. The requirements would be different if it were my father’s name I had to change, or my birth date, or my birth place… the list of permutations goes on.

So after explaining the problem in as calm and polite a manner as I could to the nice young man in front of me, I got my list of requirements. One look at it and I was ready to give up. I mean, how would you feel if you saw this list?

1. 2 latest certified/local copies and 2 latest NSO copies of birth certificate to be corrected (That would be mine.)
2. 2 latest certified copies of birth certificate/death certificate of mother. If certification of no record was issued please submit birth certificate or marriage contract of mother’s 2 brother or sister.
3. 2 latest certified copies of marriage contract of parents. If certification of no record was issued please submit birth certificate or marriage contract of 2 brother or sister.
4. 2 copies of baptismal certificate (I don’t know why they need this.)
5. 2 copies of school record, Elementary, High School or College (form 137 or transcript of records)
6. 2 certified copies of voter’s registration record/voters affidavit (COMELEC)
7. 2 copies valid ID of the petitioner and the document owner and 1 copy of latest community tax certificate from the place of work or residence
8. Other documents which the Office may consider relevant and necessary for the approval of the Petition. (GSIS/SSS records, Medical Records, Business Records, School Records, Insurance, Land Title, Bank Passbook)

NOTE: (This was on my set of instructions and requirements) All marriage contract, birth and death certificates to be submitted should be latest certified xerox copy when issued in Manila, if issued outside Manila, Security Paper from NSO.

Steps to Follow:

1. Submit all requirements for assessment and initial interview. Please bring all original documents and ID.
2. Preparation of petition paper.
3. Final Interview
4. Pay at Taxpayer’s Lounge.
5. Receiving and filing of petition paper and all documents.

I already had some of those documents, since they were also required by the church. Some of the others I thought I could easily acquire. I figured, I would spend a day gathering the documents, and I could come back the next day to file the petition.

Well, you know how such assumptions fare. Suffice to say that the odyssey of compiling all the required documents was so arduous a journey that to write it all down now would simply take too much time and far, far too many words. There’s gonna be a part 3 to this series of travails, and it’s going to be bloody. All I will say now is that the worst part of the ordeal was that I was all alone when I started gathering and requesting the requirements at Manila City Hall that day, and the initial disappointment was so devastating that I burst into tears right in the middle of the LCRO while whining to Oneal over the phone. “How the hell do I know how to get to the hospital where I was born?” I bawled, not caring about the masses who walked past me as I hiccuped and sniffed in my distress.

The baptismal certificate:

Oneal’s baptismal certificate seemed the least of our worries. The Jose in his name was just put there because in 1973, priests refused to baptize children unless they had Christian names. I suppose back then what counted as a Christian name only included English, Filipinized or Hispanicized names of saints. I think they’re less fussy about names now.

Mount Carmel told us that we would have to go back to San Vicente de Paul and ask them how to correct or amend his baptismal certificate. So after my initial foray to Manila City Hall and a sad, lonely lunch (which I couldn’t even finish) at SM Manila, I ventured to the church to inquire about the process. It seems this is a common problem, because when I explained to the parish office what I needed, they gave me a small slip of paper with a short list of requirements: notarized letter of request, photocopy of the baptismal certificate, and a valid ID. Oneal would have to submit the request to the parish, and they would give him a letter which he would have to bring to the Office of the Chancery in Intramuros. They were the only ones authorized to make the correction on the baptismal certificate; I supposed they were the Church’s version of the LCRO.

Next to my mountain of problems, this was quite a petite molehill. But with everything we needed to do, I found that I was just so tired and stressed that the mere thought of visiting another city hall, another government office, or another parish office made me dizzy. I found myself looking to the heavens and asking God, “Is this a sign? Are you telling us to stop? Don’t you want us to get married?”

Calling me disheartened at this point would have been a gross understatement. But we trudged on. I even managed to make it to Karen’s condo that evening for a small geek dinner, but I was so exhausted that I fell asleep on the couch.