Hello, food

We went out early in the morning to make a round of the traps. While on our way down Transect 8 where two traps were deployed, we noticed leopard cat tracks heading east. We hurried to the first trap. Nothing. We did the usual routine of replenishing the food and water, and hurried on to the next one. Nothing. As we walked to the next trap in Transect 12, we saw more tracks, still heading east. It looks as if the cat just passed by two of our traps.

The cat probably took a look at the live bait in the trap, and said, “Hello, food. Too bad you’re in the trap.” And passing the second one, it must’ve said, “Tsk tsk tsk. Such a waste!”

Hope for harvest

We did the usual things we do every morning when we check traps: make coffee, get the chicks that will be replacing yesterday’s bait ready, prep some food and water for our live baits, and then take off. This morning was different though. Today will be the blessing of the cane.

It started only about three years ago for this hacienda. People come to pray for a good harvest season, which will last from November to around June of next year. One may think that with the onset of harvest, the crop year has come to a full cycle. It hasn’t. Many things can still go wrong during the long harvest period. The female pastor’s prayer revealed so much of the dynamics of cane harvest, and for someone who didn’t grow up in a farm, it was fascinating for me. It wasn’t only inclement weather, or pest, but the people themselves, who are involved in harvest.

In a few days, the sakadas (cane cutters who were hired by a middleman from another place or island) will come to the hacienda. They will be housed in the quarters solely their own in the middle of the tiny hacienda village. Having so many people in such a small place for an extended period of time creates negative energy sometimes, and it was not only once that we were told of fights breaking up between the locals and the sakadas.

But today everyone is hopeful. That this harvest season will bring not only the owner, but also the people, a bit of blessing, and the hacienda, peace.

Marar! Marar!

For the last three weeks, we’ve been passing through a shortcut Jeric discovered on our way to the traps. We’d pass by this small hut, and there’s always these two kids shyly looking at us. Niño and Niña are siblings, only a year within each others’ age, 3 or 4. They’d whisper to each other: “Marar!” (their way of saying maral, the local term for leopard cat). Lately, I think their shyness has dissolved, and every time we pass by their hut, or their cornfields, they’ll shout in greeting, “Marar! Marar! Marar!” How can one not smile and wave back?

Tabo-an

We woke up early today to check the traps, and retrieve the chicks; traps will be closed for the weekend. We hurried home after, knowing we need to leave Araal early. Today is the tabo-an. While it literally means meeting, tabo-an in Ilonggo is ‘market day’, the day when crop-producing barangays come down to the town market to sell their produce. Fruits, meat, fish, vegetables, and eggs are cheaper compared to a regular day at the market. It is also when kakanin, any delicacy made from glutinous rice, will be sold everywhere.

We started off with the groceries, not knowing today was a big sale day for the only supermarket in town. Lopue’s La Carlota was packed, and it was only 8:30 in the morning! Jeric left to purchase the things we needed from the wet market, while I was left to wait patiently for my turn at the cashier. We have had several incidence with the guard and the cashier at that supermarket. They didn’t want us to use our own bag, and the last time I was there, I got irritated that I went straight to the manager and complained. He was nice enough, but I guess since then, I earned myself a reputation at Lopue’s. I left for the market afterwards. I’m excited. Today is my first tabo-an.

I was amazed at what I saw. The streets surrounding the market were filled with vendors selling everything from tomatoes to dried fish to second-hand clothing. I roamed around, my eyes feasting on all these. I purchased a few things we need, and proceeded to the tricycle terminal where I’m meeting Jeric.

I love tricycles from Araal! You can ask them to take your water container, have it refilled at the water refilling station, and have them take your container back to your place—for only PhP20 for the whole trip! Or you can leave a boxful or groceries at Lopue’s, go into town to do some marketing, take the trike, and ask them to pass by Lopue’s so you can retrieve your groceries and take it home with you. Which is exactly what we did on our way back to Ara-al.

Lamentation

Blisters on my feet; cane cuts on my face

Long walks under the sweltering heat,

Or the cold Araal rain

Still, no cat

We know they’re there—

We’ve seen the tracks,

And collected the scats

Why can’t we get them to go in the traps???

Live bait

How would you feel if you were left for days in a trap, with only your feeder and waterer to accompany you in the bait compartment? I would be traumatized, I imagine.

We didn’t take the traps, or baits, out in the morning, and I visited them alone this afternoon to replenish their food and water supply. Tom was her usual perky self, but no longer panicky. She also up-ended her feeder, scattering food all over the trap floor. I replenished her food and water, and scolded her a bit for throwing away her food. Geri was better with her food, but I threw it away because it got wet when it rained hard earlier in the afternoon. I also gave her some water. The moment I set down her waterer, Geri started drinking. I apologized for the delay in delivering water to her; I gave her some more.

I walked to where the first trap baited with chick was. I’m beginning to hate the vines that grow between cane rows. I almost always get caught in them, either my neck, or my feet. As I got closer to the trap, the chick started yipping loudly. I told it, “It’s ok, it’s just me.” I quickly got to it, gave it more food and water; it was hungry. I said, “I’m sorry; next time we’ll bring you food earlier.” I moved to the next trap. The chick yipped even louder when I bent down to take the bamboo stakes out to open the bait compartment door. It was scared. I put my hand in, and it kipped under it. When I moved to get the waterer and feeder, it yipped again, and when I put my hand on it, it stopped. I crooned to it. I was sorry to leave it on it’s own. Before I left, I said, “Get me a cat, will you?” I went on to check the last one. It didn’t have any more food, or water, so I gave it some. It was thirsty. I gave it some more water.

It was almost 6 PM by the time I finished my round of the traps. I was exhausted. I realized I moved more quickly when Jeric’s not around. I also realized that my memory served me well, at least in finding the traps. They were all set deep within a cane field, and only a braid of cane leaves mark the entrance to the row where the traps were set.

I walked slowly on my way home. I love these walks. They induce me to think. I thought, there must be some improvement we can do on the traps. Camouflage the floor more, perhaps.