The four or five yellow-shirted waitresses stood in a neat line under the TV, volume turned up but oddly silent. The restaurant was part of a “Dampa”, a Filipino favorite combination of a wet market and pantry-less restaurants clustured about some fishing docs. There are a few in the capital, we chose the Roxas Blvd location, it took us no time to get there, as today was a public holiday, spontaneously declared two days ago. Cities can be all pleasure without traffic.
Corazon Aquino, the former president who died exactly a week earlier, was being finally being put to rest in a shrine of sorts, somewhere in Manila. We walked the length of the well-lit market, only slightly overwhelmed by touts flogging their masters’ restaurants. We bought a few pounds of prawns and crabs, and picked a food stall that looked reasonably clean, and seemed to be endorsed by the presence of a few large Chinese families. The Chinese boss of the restaurant weighed what we brought in (cooking service is provided by the kg), and then handed us over to the buzzing but subdued team of Filipina waitstaff.
The public mourning process had been ongoing for most of the time I had been in Manila, including a massive procession that marched down Ayala Avenue right beside my office. The entire office had stood against the window in a 5-foot-nothing mass, lamenting that the windows wouldn’t open wide enough to properly toss out yellow confetti as the crowds passed below. Chants of “Cori! Cori!” were clearly audible 29 floors up. That was three days ago now.
All week, every TV I passed had either live coverage of some or other memorial service, or some retrospective on the great lady’s life. A humble housewife, by all accounts. Not a politician, naturally, merely a Filipina, forced on the national stage by the brutal assassination of her husband, ordered by none other than the grand villainess of islands, Imelda Marcos herself.
In 1983, Dictator Marcos’s days clearly numbered, Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino was invited back from political exile to assist in a transition to democracy. As he stepped off the plane, the military escort sent to protect bared their teeth and gunned him down before he could touch the soil of his homeland. It was the beginning of the end, and a wave yellow-shirted protesters, of what become known in the country as “People Power”, was unleashed. Not even the United States could save Marcos now (although some say it did try). The Cardinal heading the Catholic Church in the Philippines pushed forward Corazon “Cory” Aquino into a snap election against Marcos. Marcos declared himself the winner of the election, but the People Power protests became too much. He boarded a US government plane to live out the remaining three years of his life counting his Billions in Hawaii. It all ended in 1986, and they say it was the world’s first bloodless revolution, the first in a series that runs to this day.
Cory served as president for two terms, then was the only president ever to not attempt a third. The current president, Gloria “GMA” Macapagal-Arroyo, has ridden outlived one scandal after another, and for months we’ve heard rumours of her trying to change the constitution to allow herself the forbidden “Third Term.”* I had lunch with a group of business leaders the other day, among the country’s most powerful, and the sense was that the tens of thousands of yellow shirts on the streets were a signal more than just misery at the loss of the a passed leader. GMA would have to be very careful from now on.
The meal in the Dampa was pretty damn good, and I have to admire the restaurant for stubbornly refusing to stock a single ingredient. They had rice, but we practically had to beg for a vegetable to be served alongside our shellfish. In the end they offered some stir-fried Kang Kung (water spinach), although not a few minutes after we ordered we saw a lad run out the door and jog back a few minutes later with a bag full of the stuff. Although we perhaps missed out on authentic “Filipino” cookery, we did wisely in choosing a Chinese establishment – the kitchen, overseen by a formidable Hokkien woman, was possessed of a good portion of the 3000 years of experience built up the Overseas Chinese peoples of the south china sea and thereabouts. The prawns, fine specimens, came out in a Shanghai-style sweet chili sauce. The crabs, hairy and blue, were fried with salt and pepper -- the grown up version of a dish I had prepared myself not a week prior back in Seattle.
A pair of cold San Miguel Pilseners gave me enough to savor as I sat back to watch Cory being jauntly lowered into her tomb as scores of suited and uniformed serious people looked on. A trio of buglers played a fine rendition of “Amazing Grace”, and then “Taps”, and then just nothing at all as the camera panned the silent, massive crowd. One of the older waitresses, who may well have clad the same yellow shirt she now wore in the streets back in 1986, started to cry, just a bit, then made a joke about something, laughed, then ran back into the comforting din of the kitchen.
* In fairness, it should be noted that a disproportionate share of her scandals are tied to the “First Husband,” Mike Arroyo. GMA is ever vigilant in trying to keep him away from the illegal gambling rings and massive kickbacks he seems to have such a weakness for. She banished him from the country for a month in 2005, although it seems to have little effect
Corazon Aquino, the former president who died exactly a week earlier, was being finally being put to rest in a shrine of sorts, somewhere in Manila. We walked the length of the well-lit market, only slightly overwhelmed by touts flogging their masters’ restaurants. We bought a few pounds of prawns and crabs, and picked a food stall that looked reasonably clean, and seemed to be endorsed by the presence of a few large Chinese families. The Chinese boss of the restaurant weighed what we brought in (cooking service is provided by the kg), and then handed us over to the buzzing but subdued team of Filipina waitstaff.
The public mourning process had been ongoing for most of the time I had been in Manila, including a massive procession that marched down Ayala Avenue right beside my office. The entire office had stood against the window in a 5-foot-nothing mass, lamenting that the windows wouldn’t open wide enough to properly toss out yellow confetti as the crowds passed below. Chants of “Cori! Cori!” were clearly audible 29 floors up. That was three days ago now.
All week, every TV I passed had either live coverage of some or other memorial service, or some retrospective on the great lady’s life. A humble housewife, by all accounts. Not a politician, naturally, merely a Filipina, forced on the national stage by the brutal assassination of her husband, ordered by none other than the grand villainess of islands, Imelda Marcos herself.
In 1983, Dictator Marcos’s days clearly numbered, Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino was invited back from political exile to assist in a transition to democracy. As he stepped off the plane, the military escort sent to protect bared their teeth and gunned him down before he could touch the soil of his homeland. It was the beginning of the end, and a wave yellow-shirted protesters, of what become known in the country as “People Power”, was unleashed. Not even the United States could save Marcos now (although some say it did try). The Cardinal heading the Catholic Church in the Philippines pushed forward Corazon “Cory” Aquino into a snap election against Marcos. Marcos declared himself the winner of the election, but the People Power protests became too much. He boarded a US government plane to live out the remaining three years of his life counting his Billions in Hawaii. It all ended in 1986, and they say it was the world’s first bloodless revolution, the first in a series that runs to this day.
Cory served as president for two terms, then was the only president ever to not attempt a third. The current president, Gloria “GMA” Macapagal-Arroyo, has ridden outlived one scandal after another, and for months we’ve heard rumours of her trying to change the constitution to allow herself the forbidden “Third Term.”* I had lunch with a group of business leaders the other day, among the country’s most powerful, and the sense was that the tens of thousands of yellow shirts on the streets were a signal more than just misery at the loss of the a passed leader. GMA would have to be very careful from now on.
The meal in the Dampa was pretty damn good, and I have to admire the restaurant for stubbornly refusing to stock a single ingredient. They had rice, but we practically had to beg for a vegetable to be served alongside our shellfish. In the end they offered some stir-fried Kang Kung (water spinach), although not a few minutes after we ordered we saw a lad run out the door and jog back a few minutes later with a bag full of the stuff. Although we perhaps missed out on authentic “Filipino” cookery, we did wisely in choosing a Chinese establishment – the kitchen, overseen by a formidable Hokkien woman, was possessed of a good portion of the 3000 years of experience built up the Overseas Chinese peoples of the south china sea and thereabouts. The prawns, fine specimens, came out in a Shanghai-style sweet chili sauce. The crabs, hairy and blue, were fried with salt and pepper -- the grown up version of a dish I had prepared myself not a week prior back in Seattle.
A pair of cold San Miguel Pilseners gave me enough to savor as I sat back to watch Cory being jauntly lowered into her tomb as scores of suited and uniformed serious people looked on. A trio of buglers played a fine rendition of “Amazing Grace”, and then “Taps”, and then just nothing at all as the camera panned the silent, massive crowd. One of the older waitresses, who may well have clad the same yellow shirt she now wore in the streets back in 1986, started to cry, just a bit, then made a joke about something, laughed, then ran back into the comforting din of the kitchen.
* In fairness, it should be noted that a disproportionate share of her scandals are tied to the “First Husband,” Mike Arroyo. GMA is ever vigilant in trying to keep him away from the illegal gambling rings and massive kickbacks he seems to have such a weakness for. She banished him from the country for a month in 2005, although it seems to have little effect
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