crisis

it was hot yesterday. the sun was merciless. the corn fields bear witness to the sun's power. the leaves are wilting, curling at the edges, begging for a little respite of rain. the dust continued its free swirl as the habal habal i was riding made its way to ranzo.

i know that it is crisis time for the peoples in carmen. people have already started to tell their grim stories: that they would not be harvesting any this season. that as soon as the (supposed) harvest time come, people would be coming to their communities and would be pulling ropes. at the end of those ropes would be their carabaos. and if the carabaos would not be enough to pay for their debts, they would still have an amount to contend with at the next harvest.

injustice!

sad.

i do not know what could be sadder than that.

until i actually felt what they were feeling.

i was visiting a youth leader in ranzo. unintentionally, i arrived at the community at a quarter before the lunch hour. i always am uneasy to arrive at this time. but everytime, the people would always have something to offer, no matter how simple or small.

but yesterday, i noticed that the stove is not smoking. the children have contended to watch pilipinas game ka na ba. they must have been dreaming of the good life as the contestant (whose name is nickasius) won an entertainment showcase.

i was hungry yes, because of the early start. but who am i to complain at a time like this?

good thing, a girl came by selling snakol. its grated cassava sweetened by sugar and steamed to perfection. it is best eaten warm. i bought her last two ones. ate part of the first and left the others for the kids.

that may have been the difference between feeling their hunger and knowing about their hunger.

good thing it has been raining since last night. there is hope.