Monday 3 April 2017

A Pig's Tale

IT’S 7:14pm AT OUR CURRENT LOCATION on-board QF5 en route to Singapore; the 'flight path' board says this Airbus 330 has already flown three quarters of the total time to our destination.  While the majority of the passengers have been dozing off in the comfort of their fully reclined ‘cradle’, my mobile phone screen illuminates my face as I type this 'note' amidst the darkened aircraft cabin.

As usual, I'm travelling for work.  There's not much difference as to what I'd normally do except for this being an international flight this time (there’s actually been a few of these since I joined the company 22 months ago).  I'll be away for the next six days to attend a meeting that will basically cover a few things about pigs as well as their health.  Who would've thought that working with these 'lesser beasts' (as what Mark Essig calls them in his book ‘A Snout to Tail History of the Humble Pig’) could also take me to places?  Trips like this would definitely bring a lasting and memorable learning experience!


ACTUALLY, MY VERY FIRST OVERSEAS trip was when I left my job as a pig veterinarian in the Philippines to embark on an extraordinary journey as a piggery attendant in Australia. That venture didn't last for more than a year, though...  Things may not have worked out as planned but I'd say that that was definitely the gate that opened the path of greater opportunities that lead me to where I am right now.

This ‘career’ actually started more than three decades ago, though at that time—as a six-year old boy, I'd call it an ‘adventure’.  I remember in the late 80's, Auntie Manay was into backyard pig raising— looking  after half a dozen grower pigs.  I would join her collect some stalks of gabi (taro) or tangkong (swamp cabbage) from the swampy areas of the family property, chop these 'veggies' and, using a firewood, cook these outdoor in a big pot with binlæd (a waste product of rice milling).  The cooked veggies were called la-on and when cooled down and mixed with upa (rice hull shavings from a grain while milling), this was the staple diet of our pig herd back then!  When these hogs would reach market size, Auntie Manay would sell them to the public-market butchers; it would feel a bit sad at the start seeing my 'pets' squealing while being weighed using a traditional weighing scale but after receiving the payment it would get more interesting as it was then the time to go to Davao City to shop and dine.  Meanwhile, after slaughtering, the butchers would usually give our pigs’ liver back to us as a consolation and that was absolutely a special dinner treat for the family!

Auntie Manay would usually own at least one Philippine native sow those days, would have it naturally bred by an outdoor-raised Duroc-Pietrain boar owned by Uncle Simo in the property nearby.  Every time the pregnant sow would get closer to its ‘due date’, Auntie Manay and I would sleep in the barn with the sow so we could assist during farrowing (act of giving birth in pigs).  That was actually quite exciting as the activity would include a guessing game as to whether the total piglets born alive would get up to a dozen or more!  Night duties would then follow over the next 7-10 days so we could look after the cute little piglets (most of them black, some were brown with black spots) at suckling time thus protecting them from the danger of being laid over and crushed by their dam.  I'd also witness the young male piglets' surgical castration performed by a trained technician who, at that time, would call himself a 'veterinarian'.


ONE TIME MY PARENTS got a female piglet as a gift from a family friend; completely clueless about gilt (maiden female pig) selection, Nanay and Tatay decided to have ‘her’ naturally bred.  I remember the poor sow only had six piglets born, and didn't even have the ideal teats (nipples) a mother pig should have!  Day-old piglet processing wasn't practiced at that time; we had no idea of proper sow management post-farrowing so the sow suffered from a hard and swollen udder which made her difficult to lactate!  The poor piglets, who also hadn't receive iron injection suffered from malnutrition, gradually became lethargic and died one after the other.  I shed buckets of tears out of grief. 
After finishing high school I wasn't, actually, the one who decided to enrol at vet school; my parents did... they groomed me to become a veterinarian.  It worked and ended up really well, though, because at the moment I definitely enjoy and love what I am doing.


THREE DECADES LATER, here I am, still working with pigs but definitely not in our small village in southern Philippines.  I have, somehow, started conquering the world because of swine production and medicine.  The great things about it: while looking after the welfare and health of the swine herd, I could help feed Australia and the rest of the world. 



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