Vows on a beach in Boracay


This past week I took a break from the exam reading and paper writing to hop on a plane to the Philippines to celebrate love and the rights to change surname, to inheritance of property, to sponsor husband/wife for immigration benefits, joint adoption and foster care, joint tax filing and a number of other things that are connected to holy matrimony (in the US at least).

The bride’s family hails from the Philippines, which meant that the pinterest-worthy destination wedding in Boracay was more than your run-of-the-mill beach wedding.  Not that I mind the regular, run-of-the-mill beach wedding; I attended several while I lived in Hawaii (most of them involuntarily as the wedding ceremony and dinner occupied half of the beach we were hanging out at that day).

The ceremony itself happened on a sunny day with degrees in the mid-30°s and humidity of about 98% (a thunderstorm remained on the horizon for the entire party), and as the sun set and the dance floor opened I’ve never been in a social setting where it’s been as acceptable to have more sweat stains than dry patches.

The dress I had originally packed was too thick for Filipino climate, also I’ve gained some weight in the waist region since the last time I wore it (damn you, delicious fried chicken!), so I had to find an emergency backup in one of the beach shops on Station 2.

Note to self: Always bring a backup dress.

Note to anyone who’s traveling to Boracay for wedding purposes: There are no (I repeat: NO) stores that sell formal wear on the island. You have been warned.

The dress I ended up with cost $7 and had the fit of a medium-sized tent, which meant I got to eat two portions from the buffet and dance like there was no tomorrow without worrying about a thing. Can a girl ask for more?

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The bar is set. I’m glad I’m not planning on getting married just yet, because I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able top this one.