I likewise had a report by skipper Basilio Valdez (not the general of the American period who was the aide-de-camp of President Manuel Quezon) from his schooner No. 64 named Concepcion. He was referring to the kidnapping of Pablo Bautista in Capizs shorelines at 4 p.m. Yes, the Samals conducted their operations at any time and anywhere. But then, the natives reported the kidnap incidents to the authorities. By the way, that reference would be Capitaña del Puerto de Manila y Cavite 1865. Included in that bundle would be the report on a boat ferrying Bautista to a hideaway on the shores of Zamboanga. Now, many dont dare report kidnappings to the officials and settle them "amicably." Theres even a Señor Casanova. How could I detach myself from so much comparison, parallelism and grief on what we have today with 19th century events?
There was love in the air and thats all that mattered. Despite the heavy downpour and traffic in Intramuros, the guests came on time. I looked around and observed how beautiful the edifices are in Intramuros, a city of stone constructed from ballasts of ships arriving from Spain during the 16th century up to the early 19th century. Such lofty thoughts of caruajes and ball gowns and mustached men courting ladies in my mind were interrupted when I saw a man in blue shorts. He decided to take a bath in the rain with his shorts on, washing them at the same time. On my right was a vendor on his bike who was texting away with nary a care in the world! His cart had an umbrella and it was loaded with green mangoes. Children were playing on a driveway while a huge balete trees roots, which reached the ground, swayed like a hula skirt in the wind.
Upon getting to San Agustin Church, I took out an umbrella and walked, wetting my Ungaro sandals while the other ladies their Ferragamo shoes. I couldnt help looking down and comparing my footwear with the others while avoiding puddles of water. It was a bit chaotic at the back of the church as guests saw old friends and relatives. I was amazed at the number of guests (most of which were the parents friends) from the Chinese community who filled up the church to the rafters. They were all there sharing in Domeng Sr.s happiness, and those of his son Domeng Jr. and his lovely bride, Leslie Ellen.