Planting Rice is Never Fun?

While my siblings and I grew up in the city, most of my first cousins grew up in the countryside.
By countryside, I mean Nueva Ecija, a province in the northern part of Luzon, the biggest island in the Philippines, where my father was born and raised.

The only time we would visit Nueva Ecija would be on Christmas Day , All Saints' Day, Easter Sunday, the town's Fiesta (May 12th) and Election Day. There would be special trips, sometimes, summer vacation or in cases of emergency, such as death of a relative or special occasions such as a wedding.

My memories of my father's hometown had been etched in my memory for so long and I don't think they will ever fade away. Memories such as trips on the wee hours of December 25, packed inside a green and white Pontiac with my other siblings and parents; crossing the receded Pantabangan river with nary a star in the sky; traversing the dusty savana in the pitchblack hour of four a.m. or eight in the evening; stopping in Baliuag, on the way back to Manila to buy those petite Baliuag pandesal and pastellas de leche to bring as pasalubongs and to feast on hot arroz caldo at a well known Baliuag highway restaurant.

Of course going back to Manila after Christmas meant that my pockets were loaded with dough.
Old folks in our province were a generous lot ( I think most Filipinos are very generous during Christmas season) and would give us " pamasko." My ninong from Penaranda used to give me one hundred pesos at a time when the jeepney fare was only ten centavos; so you could imagine
my excitement on those trips to Nueva Ecija.

Visiting my Lolo and Lola on Christmas, Easter and during Fiesta, also meant a chance to feast on Lechon de leche. The treat was not just on savouring the lechon ( the crispy balat) but also in watching how the lechon was prepared. My cousins and us would sit by the window ledge at the second floor of the house and watch the "folks" turn and oil the poor pig. The aroma would be floating in the air, together with the scent of fresh cooked white rice, menudo, sopas, sinampalukang manok, mechado, pancit and kakanins such as the famous kalamay Nueva Ecija
( made of glutinous rice with thick sugary syrup and sprinkled with fried coconut meat).

During Christmas season, we usually leave Manila on Dec. 24 and return either Dec. 26 or 27 to Manila. But there had been times when my father decided to travel on Christmas day itself. It meant leaving Manila right after the Midnight mass or thereabouts, and reaching Nueva Ecija when the cocks were still sound asleep. As his customary practise was, my father would stop at the house of every relative he had and we were forced to get out of the car (never mind if you were sleeping) to kiss the hands of the elders. This he did, to make sure no relative was missed.
But the biggest destination was my grandparents' house, of course.

Now, why is planting rice not so much fun? Is it because there's more profit in corn production for that much hyped "ethanol?"

There's a growing food problem taking place around the world, and instead of planting crops such as palay (rice) or other staple grains, a lot of riceland had been converted into housing subdivisions, resorts , golf courses and of course, cornland for alternative fuel production.

Nueva Ecija is part of Central Luzon, the rice granary of the Philippines, but now, a lot of folks there have been experiencing rice shortage like the rest of the country and other countries in the world.

Our own farm had been saved. My father, although not a farmer, inherited this from his parents, and decided to keep it. He dabbled for a while raising swine, cultivating tilapia, raising goats, growing pakwan and of course, growing palay. But I guess, he was not a farmer. He failed in his endeavours. His brother who is a doctor was more succesful in managing his share of the farm, so I guess that makes him a farmer.

I think planting rice, or managing a farm, takes a special talent. It's like you have to have a "green thumb" to really raise a beautiful garden.

It had been romanticized in songs, in movies, and in postcards, that of " planting rice." But they say it's never fun.

Making a living is never easy. Managing your own business, is neither.