جماعة أبو سياف
Before we left the states, I remembered hearing a part of an odd news report, but I didn’t get the whole story, and I forgot about it. And so, we’re now in the middle of San Vincinte, just about to eat dinner, and I finally decide to ask her why the airport closed a couple of weeks a few months before we left on the trip.
And she says…
“The Muslim militia in the north wants to attack it cause the military are fighting a Muslim uprising in the south.”
“My god! Are we surrounded?!”
“Of course not. Have some fish.”
My mind is racing. “…But…These islands run north to south”
“Uh-huh. You like the rice?”
“Shut-up. You just said there’s armed Muslims to the north of us”
“uh-huh”
“There’s armed Muslims to the south of us ”
“Uh-huh”
Understand, just to the south of our little island, is a large and formidable island of Mindinao, which, for 500 years or something, has housed a very large population of perpetually angry Muslims. These Muslims have been the bane of the Spanish colonial government, American government, and now the Philippine government. I don’t remember the Japanese having a problem, though. I guess if you’re just killing everybody, angry Muslims don’t count for much. In fact, they say it’s the angry Muslims that drove the Spanish away, all those years ago. The Philippine government has tried to negotiate with them, but apparently no one knows why they’re angry, not even the Muslims. Tough to negotiate when you don’t know what you want. Too much hummus, I guess. Luckily, now they mostly stay in Mindinao, just venturing out to blow-up things or take rich American hostages.
“Soooo..” (I’m trying to explain the obvious to her again. This time though, I’m a little panicked, and it’s not coming out well). “..We’re surrounded by armed Muslims. And… I don’t see any military, police, or anything else here!.”
“I guess. How come you don’t like the rice?”
“Screw the rice. Didn’t you think of this before? Don’t you think this is dangerous?”
“No. Its fine They won’t attack these hills.”
“Why?”
And she says, “The communist rebels will keep them out.”
At this point, I should try to explain the political situation in poor little Bohol. Specifically, the difference between the pacifist village San Vicente Norte, and little red village of San Vicente Sou, even though the inhabitants are all related to each other because they’re, in fact, two halves of the same tiny village, and my wife is apparently related to all of them anyway, and…
Who cares! This was my Ass! All I needed is a tee-shirt saying “INSTANT HOSTAGE, JUST ADD LEAD” on it!
EASY MONEY! COME-AN’-GET-IT! Ring that dinner bell, baby! Your ‘Commie’ Cousins are comin’ home! DING-DING-DING-DING
What the hell. Sometimes I think she really doesn’t like me.
