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Tuesday, July 15, 2003
Flavier: The parable of the carabao milk
By Juan Flavier
THE farmer amassed a tiny fortune from a secondary form of income. He bought carabao milk from other tillers in the barrio and sold the collected volume in the town market.
Each morning, he dutifully visited farmers with nursing carabaos for their milk. Generally just a liter or so. By sun up, the bulk amounted to a sizeable quantity. The profit was enough to make the daily chore worthwhile - an activity that even overshadowed the principal activity of rice farming.
On top of the clear gain, the farmer diluted the carabao's milk with plain water. This added 20 percent more to the income. But this act of adulterating the milk was greatly condemned by his family.
"We are earning enough," admonished the wife gently. "And by no means are we in such dire need to resort to such cheating. We have sufficient food and we have our indulgences. So, Tatay (Father), please stop adding water to the milk.
"Oh, you worry too much," chided the farmer reassuringly. "The buyers in town are well-off. It is a means of redistributing their wealth - ill-gotten at that," he added with a chuckle. It was as though his reasoning had transferred the onus of the wrong to his costumers.
The eldest daughter would have nothing of it. "Tatay, it would be such a shame if people found out. Our family - and I most of all - would lose face. What would my friends and acquaintances think?"
"Look," replied the farmer with evident irritation. "I do not sell milk in our barrio where our shame (hiya) counts. In town, people do not know any better. They can't tell the difference. None of the end users even connect the milk with me. It is the other distributors.
"Besides, most of the milk is converted to kesong puti (white cheese). And when the milk is double-boiled in the process, the milk and water are blended further. So stop worrying about my business."
"It is not that, Tatay," said the wife. "God must be very displeased with you."
The farmer was taken aback. He thought for a while then finally announced, "Alright! I will go to the priest in town and consult him. If he says I am in the wrong, I will stop adulterating the milk. But if the priest concurs with my practice, then I shall continue."
"That is more like it," chorused the wife and the daughter with tentative pleasure.
The next day, the farmer arrived home with a big smile. "I just say the kura (parish priest) and guess what? Not only did he say there was nothing wrong with my system, he even praised me to high heavens!"
With a puzzled look, the wife asked, "Exactly what did you tell him anyway?"
With some hesitation, the farmer confessed, "Well...I told the kura I sell water." He paused before meekly adding, "And I said I added milk as extra."
(July 15, 2003 issue)
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