Piggy

I am not the type of person to volunteer in joining on the spot contests. On several occasions I was literally dragged to the center to compete. 🙂

Newly-relocated to the province, I was somewhat embarrass to show off my skills. Most rural folks consider city denizens as aloof. I was not the exception.

One time, there was a gathering of relatives which they aptly called family reunion. I was the resident guest of the host so in a way I helped in organizing the venue to accommodate the influx of people from other parts of the province. Naturally, lots of children would be present.

To make the festivities entertaining, I suggested we create a small corral, with a meter high bamboo fence, five meters in diameter, to become a makeshift arena. When asked what it was for, I decided not to tell them what I planned. It would be a surprise for the children.

It was cloudy afternoon when everyone stood around the corral, curious what I had in store for them.

I chose five children at random, aged 8 to 10, healthy enough not to be easily intimidated. They were told to line up for their turn to compete.

I presented the star of the show, shrieking loudly because of my firm hold. I applied grease all over its body and freed it inside the corral.

There was a roar of approval, especially from the adults who wanted to join the game, even suggesting the children’s  disqualification.

One by one, the children took turns capturing the greasy-skinned piglet who deftly ran around the corral, evading capture from small hands. The task became more difficult because the muddy ground gave the advantage to the intelligent animal.

No one captured the piglet in each time trial. No one could bring home the bacon, so to speak. 😀

As the mastermind of the whole affair, I was unanimously chosen to show the children how it had to be done. Naturally, I declined since I had never done such a foolish act before. 🙂

However, not to embarrass my host, I entered the arena. I imagined myself a gladiator battling a ferocious tiger. I would be victorious.

I failed.

After ten minutes of running around, chasing the energetic animal, I was dead tired, muddied all over, humiliated from the endless heckling around and unworthy to be called a farmer.

As consolation though, I was praised for making the reunion one of the most memorable moments in their lives.

BLOGGING   LIFE/STYLES   MY STORIES   WHISPER   ZONE

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