Isabel T. Escoda
The lockdown that has affected this country’s population, particularly males in provincial cities and towns, is such that the urge to break out and engage in familiar gambling activities has apparently been too overwhelming to resist.
Before modified general community quarantine (MGCQ) was declared, a group of men in Borbon town recently set up a game involving fighting spiders.
The national blood sport of cockfighting requires a fair amount of space, so the men thought that occupying a small space using big insects to do battle would keep the authorities from finding out they were engaged in an illegal activity.
Unfortunately the group, which included some boys, were caught by the police hunkered down side by side, shouting to the arachnids on which they’d placed bets (some reportedly as high as P2,000 per game). Physical distancing was forgotten in the excitement of the moment.
Because Cebu is now under MGCQ, authorities have allowed cockfighting to resume – except in Mandaue and Talisay where the mayors are dithering about lifting the ban, citing Covid rates as still high.
Meanwhile businesses dealing in breeding poultry, and feed supply stores have been hemorrhaging thousands of pesos due to layoffs of cockpit employees, breeders and agri-vet companies. It’s estimated there are 1,200 cockpits nationwide, each hiring an average of 20 employees. Not only have many lost their jobs, but a massive loss of income has resulted from the non-issuance of licenses for the international derby.
Many ordinary folks look on local government officials as killjoys who ban what many consider harmless pastimes. After all, wasn’t the government’s Games and Amusement Board (GAB) set up to acknowledge that people need to be amused to take their minds off life’s many vicissitudes, of which there now are a lot in this time of pandemic? Doesn’t the government make a profit by taxing the business that promote games of various types? Why cut off their noses to spite their faces, so to speak?
It’s not just the ordinary Juan dela Cruz who feels frustrated and unhappy about not being able to visit a cockpit, but a few middle-class matrons who feel bored and stir-crazy having to stay home with their husbands and kids when they’d prefer to get together with friends to indulge in their customary mahjong games.
One woman I know told me her usual gang of three decided one day to quietly start setting up the tiles again in one of their homes. I asked if they’d be masked and sit at a table where they could be six feet apart.
She assured me they would and that they wouldn’t use airconditioning but observe proper ventilation by keeping windows open. All they have to worry about is that a neighbor might snitch on them and call the police.
When I asked what they’d do if they were caught, she said it wasn’t a worry because they’d just pay off the cop.