We went to bed, and I woke up and went to mass the next morning and stood outside observing, and then back to sleep again to start my day a little later. There was still some time until the next big event, the cock fighting, would begin, so Mark and I went to go explore more of the island while we had some free time. I found out there was another barangay on the other side that you had to take two mountains to get to, so we went to go find it. We checked out the other lagoon, and saw the new road they were building along the beach which was closed off to become a new fish sanctuary. We went up and over the mountains at the hottest part of the day and fried ourselves. We watched a child skipping up the stairs two at a time carrying a cooler, clearly been doing this his whole life, while we stood there using bandanas to wipe sweat dribbling off our pale faces. We snooped around the other side and headed back to Mary’s for lunch. Father Charlie asked us if we were going to go watch the cock fights, and we decided we didn’t have to skate around the subject of where we were going any more after lunch, and said indeed that was where we were headed.
At this point it was Christmas Eve, and all the roosters that would be defeated would be eaten the next day. It looked like almost every male on the island was gathered around the pen, and a couple of women were spectating as well. Melot was to be our betting guide, as he is a master of inspecting a chicken’s legs to figure out which one is going to be a champion.
** I apologize to the vegans and animal rights individuals. Not that it makes it okay but honestly these birds live far better lives than almost any chicken in the United States as a part of the meat industry. They are loved and held and cared about for years before they enter the ring. Honestly I was surprised to see how quickly the fights were over the first time I experienced this. Even when they kill and eat their own cows and pigs, I feel like they at least understand that an animal is losing its life in order to feed the people, unlike in the United States where people close their eyes and ask to turn a cow into a McDonalds hamburger and don’t want to think that death was involved to feed themselves. I do not condone animal violence, I am just writing about the lives and experiences I had of another culture. In my opinion the biggest problem here is the sheer addiction to gambling.
So, as I was saying, the little pen that the chickens would fight in was jammed full of humans spectating. The round would start and there was a lot of yelling, and fingers being held up to signify the amount of their bets. I still don’t fully understand but the betting on each bird had to be about even, so sometimes they would keep shouting the term for the bird needing a bet, and eventually the two birds would be released into the middle, and typically about 30 seconds later one bird would lay there dead, and was immediately carted up the hill to be plucked of its feathers and prepped for dinner the next day. Money would be handed out, and 10% of the money contributed would go somewhere I’m not exactly sure, either the person who raised the bird, or the men who were running the arena. Drinks started pouring heavily, and the chaos only got rowdier. There was one fight that lasted several minutes, and the spectators got so into it that the fence of the arena actually collapsed under the weight of the men. Mark and Dieter followed Melot’s lead on what to bet on, and kept their beers pouring. I believe they came out on top with their bets, but spent all the money made on beer, so they left with the same amount of cash when they got there. The sun started to set and I ran off to scramble up the mountain to get some photos for sunset, and when I came back the event was over and people were walking back to their homes.
Typically on the island, curfew is at 10PM and nobody is to be out on the streets, or really the sidewalks as there are no cars on the island, but tonight was Christmas Eve, and we would all stay up until midnight to roll in Christmas Day! The karaoke machine was busted out, and the intoxicated belting commenced. The locals would dance and sing as they passed by, the energy was fantastic. When the clock struck 12, food magically appeared out of every house on the island, all sorts of colorful treats that I had never seen before, as well as pizza and cakes. We had a group photo on the porch of Riemel’s place where we were singing karaoke, and was selfie-bombed by the two who took the photos on all our phones. The singing and drinking continued until about 2am when the power was shut off again, and we dispersed back home to wake up for another morning of mass.
Continue to the next page for additional photos from the day