It was all pretty peaceful; some rock-throwing here and there, no shooting. It all happened in Manila, which is a long way from here. We're having a bit of fallout here: the freeport zone, which used to be the US Navy base, has generally been a bit of a political football. Estrada tossed out the former administrator, who he hated, and put in his own guy. The old guy runs the town outside (both, predictably, are jerks). Now the old guy's goons have barricaded all the entrances to the freeport, and are demanding the resignation and departure of Estrada's guy. Nobody really gives a shit, the rallies are drawing a few hundred individuals, most of them paid, but it's a hassle, mostly because my kids go to school inside the freeport. It's a weekend, though, and I'm pretty sure they'll run out of steam by tomorrow. So far the biggest problem is that I might not be able to get to my sailboat today, which would force me to revise my plans and go paddling instead. The horror; the horror.
I don't see any threat, and after two guerilla wars, one revolution, four coups d'etat, and numerous minor eccentricities (generally the most threatening) I feel reasonably well qualified to judge threat. In the late '80's I was living in Manila, renting a rather nice house near the main TV broadcast center. Of course whenever there was a coup, all participants would ignore the presidential palace and go for the airwaves. It got downright depressing, waking up at midnight with tanks in front of the house and gunfire overhead, and we eventually had to move.
Life in the turd world.... |
