Rain dance

By Marifi Jara

As an enthusiastic gardener, I have been devotedly praying for a constant dowse of rain from the heavens.

I’ve even had tempting thoughts of organizing a community rain dance in our barangay using indigenous Philippine musical instruments.

I think it would be an equally enjoyable alternative activity for our videoke fanatics whose voices, blaring out from speakers attached to machines that for a P5 drop allows you to sing your heart out for all the neighbors to hear, are apparently not awful enough to draw tears from the skies.

The dry heat can easily take its toll on plants, especially if you live close to the sea like I do where the ground is largely sandy.

I am worried a lot about my plants. I do work hard for them. They require commitment, not comparable perhaps but neither is it far different from raising a child. But the rewards are also great. Weekend mornings spent tending to them – trimming, getting rid of weeds, watering, transplanting – never fail to rejuvenate me for another week of teaching, researching, editing and writing. There must be some natural energy quietly unleashed by the earth and everything that is rooted in it.

My utterly practical grandmother does not quite understand my leisurely pursuit. She wonders why I spend all that time and energy growing foliage and flowering plants instead of sowing vegetables and fruit-bearing trees.

I might eventually advance into that when I’m older, and hopefully wiser.

Nonetheless, even now, I do recognize how seemingly whimsical and trivial my reason is for fervently wishing for rain compared to our farmers whose livelihood depend on it.

For them, a parched earth means dried out finances. The bodies and souls of families are at stake.

In a bigger context, low farm production could compromise the Philippine’s food security and destabilize prices of basic goods like rice, the Filipino staple.

Pangasinan is a major player in the sector being the third biggest agricultural contributor in the country with rice as its main product. But 52% of the 179,000 hectares of farmland in the province are not irrigated, which means more than half of the total area where food is grown would be unproductive if the rains do not come this month.

There have been intermittent rains in the past weeks, on average an hour every three days or so. That means a lot to my garden. But for the farmers, it is nowhere near their water requirements.

 Perhaps that community rain dance is not such a crazy idea after all.

(For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/roots/)

Share your Comments or Reactions

comments

Powered by Facebook Comments