The Vote

An elderly pure blooded Aeta woman with her back turned against a bright red table in the afternoon. She faces a setting sun.

It was election time. Local government candidate campaigns were in full swing even reaching the indigenous Pastulan Tribe in the mountains of Subic Bay. Each vote was priced at 500 pesos. A large sum that would feed a large family with zero regular income for at least a week.

The red table was used by the armed goons of a local mayoral candidate to facilitate the distribution of cash to the voters in the tribe. I hid in the bushes while the vote buying happened and took this photo a few minutes after the armed men left the site. Just as the light was perfect and the sun was setting. I was struck by this scene of an elderly lady. It was as if she had turned her back on the evil ways of the new world and opted to resign herself to the setting sun of olden times, of her ancestors, of a time past and gone into the shadows of memory.