We mapped the entire hacienda, established our transects, put up our hair snares, and put out our live traps. We found scats and tracks, and in rare times, what we suspect to be bird kills by leopard cats. The hair snares never attracted anything but dust and mud. And the traps remained empty save for the live bait. We got sick on field, thankfully, quite rarely. Some of our live bait died and had to be replaced. One sakada (cane cutter) was killed by another sakada, and since no one knew who it was, or more accurately, no one would speak up on who it was, the person involved in the murder is still working in the hacienda. And the cane is almost gone.
I passed by a group of women in one of the newly plowed fields. Some were sorting planting materials, while some were distributing planting materials between rows, and the rest were on their hands and knees, planting cane. It was a little past 10 in the morning, and the sun was high up. Most of the women looked up as I passed, so I called out a ‘good morning’ and waved a friendly hand. They wave back. They were wearing long-sleeved shirts, skirts or shorts over trousers, and head protection consisting of a t-shirt draped over the head tied securely around the forehead by a towel or another piece of t-shirt, or hats.
I approached one sorting party and chatted with them. They’ve been on the field since dawn, and they’ll be there until the afternoon, when they finished this parcel. It was only past 10 in the morning, but the sun is scorching, and there was no cover to be had. It must’ve been around about 32 °C, and it will only get hotter as the day progresses. These women will get burned. And they do, every day, working in these cane fields since harvest started in October. But at least there is work. Come off harvest starting June, and while cane is growing, the cane fields of Negros are usually empty, save for some maintenance activities.
I bid them goodbye, and turned towards Transect 3. The continued their work under the scorching heat. All in a day’s work.
