on sacrifice...(Bantay Baboy '09)

IT

i was tasked to bring lechon for our company's new year celebration. since we're using a common pantry, i had to ward off people from other accounts from getting a piece of it.

and so, i stayed seated beside the pig. for several long hours i did nothing but stare at...ah...um...it. it may be a girl pig, it may be a boy pig. i'm not sure...i wasn't able to flip it over to check its genitals. but it had long eyelashes, so it may have been a girl. but then, i've seen boy camels with long eyelashes, so i'm not quite sure. oh well, to be safe, i'll just use it.

where was i? oh yeah. i was seating in the pantry, staring at the pig. sometimes at its face, most of the time at its butt. a little mist was forming in the room because of the pig's heat, combined with the ac blasting at 15 degrees. the smell of roasted flesh and fresh blood was permeating the air, and i couldn't help zoning off and wonder if the pig realized that it was led away from its pen to be slaughtered; so its meat would be feasted upon by my officemates. and if it had an inkling of its fate, how was it able to continue marching toward its ultimate fate? perhaps, deep in the recesses of its mind, it knew that it was making a sacrifice.

sacrifice. to make sacred. as i sat there, staring at the pig's eyelashes, i began to think about sacrifice; how different cultures offered countless lives and blood to their gods and to their causes.

my thoughts shifted then drifted to hinzelmann, a kobold in german mythology. his was a sad story. for the safety and prosperity of the tribe, a sacrifice is needed to take place. a babe would be taken from his parents and isolated. from infancy, he would be left alone in a darkened hut at the far end of the village. never talked to, never hugged, never kissed, never loved. on his fourth birthday, he would finally be led outside of his hut. the tribe's strongest man would carry him on his back and they would dance towards the village bonfire. he would stand dumbfounded and blinking, light entering his eyes for the first time. they would dress him warmly with red velvet, then fed the finest food and given the strongest drink. a woman would then snatch him from the rest of the crowd. she would hug him and kiss him, and he would sit in her arms wondering why were tears flowing down her cheeks. and then he would be grabbed and spun around by men, and given more drink. not knowing how to express himself, he would cry. but when he sees the people laughing, he too begins to laugh. for the first time in his life, he is happy. and then, his heart is pierced with two burning swords.

the happy tribe would then smoke his remains and put it inside a wooden box. they would carry it around wherever they went, and offer sacrifices to it. he was their god now, and he would protect them and give them prosperity. but as germany became christianized, his role in their mythos morphed, and he was transformed into a ambivalent house spirit: something like the elves, pucks, or brownies. residents would give small offerings of milk and honey for him, so he would continue protecting the household.

but now, since we're in the age of science and rationality, he doesn't have a place left in the world. i can't help but think how sad he must be, little hinzelmann, and if his sacrifice was worth anything at all.

i was sitting in the pantry, staring at the pig, thinking about hinzelmann and about sacrifice. i looked around the room and thought to myself that i also have made a sacrifice. i gave up my time for the long eyelashed pig. and i wondered if my sacrifice would amount to anything at all.

and then my boss arrived and gave me a cup of chocolate ice cream. woohoo!