"No, I have no idea."
"We have to search for her."
First, the police stations - have you picked up anybody violating the curfew? Then we make the trek to the Office of the Task Force Detainees - any new faces at Bicutan or Pag-Asa or any of the myriad of political prisoner camps strewn around the city? Next, the convents-the nuns are very active in hiding people wanted by the government. And finally, the morgues, to look for salvaging victims left by the waysides for the flies to feast on, dead hollow eyes unseeing the violence that was visited upon them.
"Of course, there will be changes. Your sister, she has always disapproved of our Christmas parties..."
She gave me the look. The look that seems to say,
She has seen so much and experienced a lot. She grew up as one of the daughters of a political clan in the North and violence has peppered her family's history. An uncle was assassinated as he received the holy communion in Church. In retaliation, a cousin burned down a whole village. The cries of widows and children left homeless can still be heard in the winds as you pass by Bantay.