The Philippines Escape From a Gilded Palace

No sooner had the helicopters whisked away Ferdinand Marcos, his family and entourage than the looters and the curious began to arrive. They found a half- eaten bowl of caviar and the hospital bed and medical equipment of a sick man. They gawked at the scores of pairs of shoes of a rich woman. One visitor was reminded of a line from the Japanese poet Basho: "Autumn leaves, the remains of a samurai's dream." Eustacia Soliven, a Manila dentist, reflected later, "Maybe we have learned something from all this. After all, the best things we see in France are the reminders of the excesses of Kings." A few came to plunder and destroy. One man threw a photograph of the departed First Lady into an ornamental fish pool. But mostly, since an invitation to the Malacanang Palace had long been considered a jewel beyond price to the average Filipino, they came as tourists and as survivors. One excited old man said he had lived a block away for 40 years, and never dreamed he would ever see the day when he would set foot in the palace.