Farming: An Industry That Will Never Die

Being born and raised in the city, I’ve never had even the slightest interest in farming. Well, I love the countryside for its fresh air and laid back setting. But actually considering making a living out there never crossed my mind at all, or even the idea of supporting in feeding humanity with it.

My father owns a small parcel of farm land (rice field). Ever since he retired from his military service, he started taking care of it. Almost every weekend, he would go there and oversee the “operations”. Then eventually he wanted us to go with him so that we can learn and appreciate farming and such. But we would be so hesitant and would always have alibis. Simply not interested.

Until one day, he and my mother were able to convince me. It was harvest time. I was also a bit curious about how it goes. When we arrived, the crops have been harvested and piled, ready to be processed on the tracer, a machine that converts the harvested “palay” into grains.

The tracer still had to be pulled from the highway (we were at the center of the rice field). It’s heavy, so a carabao (water buffalo) was used to transport the machine. I thought manning the animal to do stuff at the farm is not a problem. There were times when the carabao would shift to other directions, which would make the farmer pull it and get it back on track. And take note, you can’t just pull it in any way you want – you have to do it in a way that would not trigger its “anger hormones” or else it will end up running on you.

When they arrived at the spot, the animal was tied to a corner. When the “tracing” was about to start, gray clouds started creeping in. We were so worried because moisture would reduce the amount of grains that we will be getting from the stalks. And so while the tracing was going on, it started to drizzle. My mom and I kept on praying that it won’t rain hard or better yet, that it would stop. And yes, God heard our prayers.

Helping the farmers were their families. Their wives and children were the ones working on catching the grains from the machine using a container and then transferring them to the sacks. Another one was in charge of sewing and tying the upper end of the sacks to ensure that no grain will be wasted. As sacks were piled one after another, we hired several men to carry them from the area to the highway. Each sack weighed about 60-70 kilograms. I could sense the struggle whenever each sack was being lifted and placed at the head of every guy, and then he’d walk through the narrow paths of the field towards the highway. Others were barefooted.

Afterwards, we cleaned the area. The kids were gathering the rest of the grains that were caught in the net placed in the entire area. My mom and dad were busy in giving the farmers their shares from the harvest, as well as with other dues. Everyone was happy. Who wasn’t? Another more than three months’ worth of hard work and labor – both of us and of the farmers - has been successfully reaped once again.

The first time I got to spend long hours at the farm, I looked at the entire rice field and reflected. I realized how generous God is for giving us good soil to cultivate so that we can eat and survive. And I remembered seeing rice fields before being converted to commercial spaces/lands for buildings and houses to stand on. Modernization is not totally a bad thing. We also have needs that are satisfied with it. But it’s just sad to see these lands where we get our food from being “killed” and see buildings afterwards.

I’ve also witnessed the farmers and their families’ total dependence on the land. I’m amazed at them because they know everything about the soil, the crops, and the effects of the various weather conditions, considering that most of them haven’t attained nor finished formal education.

I feel bad about myself during those times my parents would tell me to go with them to the farm and then I’d refuse. After that harvest season, the interest was slowly sneaking in and I’d look forward to moments when we had to go there to send fertilizers, insecticides and other farming needs.

I don’t know but it became quite addictive to me. The peaceful atmosphere, the simplicity of life and the sight of God’s abundant blessings that’s often ignored and taken for granted by many – YES, they are addictive, a very good addiction.

As the population continues to shoot up and as farm lands are being converted to commercial and residential lots, I think it’s best if we, people and consumers, start to give importance to where our basic need comes from. Many of us are already accustomed to city, high-technology and fast-paced life. I often see some plates on the tables at fast food chains and restaurants with so much leftovers, especially rice. I’ve heard of this “joke” many times of a mom telling her kid to not waste food. The mom says “Anak, ubusin mo yang pagkain. Di mo ba alam maraming bata ngayon ang walang kinakain at nagugutom? (Kid, finish up all you food. Don’t you know there are many hungry kids out there?).” Then her child answers, “Bakit ‘nay? Kung inubos ko ba tong pagkain, mabubusog ba sila? (Why, mom? If I finish this all up, will it satisfy them?).”

Some people laugh this off. It may be funny for many, ignoring the meaning behind this reality-turned-joke. For me, this simply reminds us not to waste food, not just because other people don’t have access to decent food every day, but most of all because it’s precious and that we should give utmost appreciation and respect to its tedious journey from the farm to our plates, not to mention the people working hard but receiving less to make all of it palatable.

If there’s one industry that will definitely never die, it’s got to be agriculture. For me, it is our key to survival because if it did not exist in the first place, we’re good as nothing. I hope our government and various sectors will continue to support all aspects of this industry, especially our farmers.

As long as we continue to live, our need to eat and survive continues, too. I hold my head high to those who are into agriculture business and to every farmer who tirelessly feed every human being every day. They’re the ones who need our utmost support and appreciation, because even the most powerful person in the world will starve to death without them.