n the morning, my family and Emelda's had been invited to visit the mayor at his house. The mayor's wife had attended the ceremony and the reception, but the mayor had been out of town on business, so he asked to see us. Since it was extremely rare for an American marrying a Filipina to have his family attend the wedding, we had apparently become the talk of Ozamiz. For a town with a population of approximately 104,000 people, I thought that was saying a lot.

We rose early so that we would not be late to meet the mayor. This time, when I went to shower, there was no cold water. I made a few inquiries but there was nothing that the hotel could do. I had to turn the water on, get wet and lather up before the water got too hot, then turn it off to let it cool down while I scrubbed. Then, I repeated the process to rinse myself off. When I exited, I gave Emelda the instructions and she did her best, but ended up getting a bit scalded.
Emelda's relatives have fun in my parents' room at The Plaza Beatriz

After Emelda and I ate breakfast in our room, Emelda began to experience stomach pains. She said that this happened a lot and that it usually went away after a short time. As time marched on, the pains persisted. I asked Emelda what she did when the pains continued and she said that she always went to the hospital at times like these. I quickly asserted my desire to take her to the hospital, but she refused. After I repeatedly implored her to allow me to get her medical attention, she agreed. Since it was almost time to leave for the mayor's house, I went down to my parents' room and informed them that we wouldn't be able to meet the mayor.

We returned to the hospital which saved me from the banana. Since it was early in the day, they were understaffed. Emelda and I were not able to get quick attention. We waited for awhile but no help seemed imminent. Suddenly, Emelda rushed to the bathroom where I would later learn that she vomited. She said that she no longer felt any pain and she wanted to go join my family at the mayor's house. Once I clarified that she was not just being nice, we exited the hospital and hopped on a motor back to the hotel.

After informing my family that we would indeed be joining them on the trip to the mayor's house, Emelda and I returned to our room. Later, the phone rang and a seminal event occurred. The desk clerk was on the line and she said, "Jeff, may I speak to your wife?" I smiled because this was the very first time I had heard someone refer to Emelda using the term, 'your wife.' I handed the phone over; proud of my good fortune. She had called to let us know that Emelda's mother was in the lobby.
Mom, Susan and her husband Alex stand in front of The Plaza Beatriz

I retrieved my family and we met Emelda's mother downstairs. Emelda was wearing a conservative dress, but as we headed for the hotel's front door, Emelda's mother pulled a long slip out of her bag and directed Emelda to join her as she headed up the stairs toward the second floor. The two of them returned a few moments later. Emelda must've been wearing the longer slip because her mother was now shoving Emelda's shorter slip into her bag. There was no visible difference to me, but Emelda's mother must've been able to breath easier. Meeting the mayor was no time to be wearing a short slip, I suppose.

Another group shot at Emelda's house
At the mayors house, we were treated like V.I.P.'s. The mayor's wife served us a drink made out of coconuts (a key crop in Ozamiz) and my family sat down with Emelda and her mother. Marilyn and Lourilyn also joined us. The conversation centered around Emelda and I at first and then moved on to my family's reactions to The Philippines. After that, we learned about the mayor's family. It was a pleasant encounter. Emelda and I remained fairly quiet while my parents, the mayor and his wife did most of the talking. As we left, my parents gave our hosts their address in California where the mayor and his wife would be traveling in the future. They may visit my parents on their upcoming trip.

After the visit, we attended to various errands and went to have lunch at Jollibee. We ate in the second floor dining room again. At one point, the manager entered and asked us Americans to sign the restaurant's guest register. This book was reserved for important guests, so we were flattered by the attention. We talked and laughed through our final meal in Ozamiz before returning to the hotel to check out.