By Penelope A. Domogo, MD
Some days ago in Natonin, I had a lively discussion with the amiable couple Alex and Amy Polig about how rich our resources in the Cordillera are. They related how, during their younger days, they would just go the nearby creek and catch “agama” (small crabs) and “chelet” or “dalit” (eel). I almost could not believe that there could be ‘dalit’ in creeks! Their rivers were full of “gadiw” (small river fish) and agama also and eel. There were a variety of edible creatures in the ‘payeo’ (rice paddy), among them was the ‘agudong’, a soft-shelled freshwater mollusk. That is true, I would say, to all over the Cordillera highlands. We had naturally such an abundant and diverse supply of good protein. And these were free! Now, they said these are gone. Why? There have been studies done on these but we, who are living here in the Cordillera, would know that the introduction of so-called modern methods of farming like use of pesticides have killed these creatures. It’s common sense. If a substance kills a plant then it can kill all living creatures, including shells and fish and yes, including people. People won’t die instantly because we are much much bigger but for the small agudong, it will take just a single application.
The major assault, however, for the agudong and fanisfis (Japanese fish) and all those indigenous protein sources was the golden kuhol. I remember how I first saw the golden kuhol in Bontoc in the 1980s in the yard of a resident. They were confined in a small pond. Because these were new, they seemed to be such coveted commodity that everybody wanted to raise their own kuhol. (The indigenous kuhol, which we sourced from Tabuk, is yummy.) I didn’t hear any warning that these creatures cannot be placed in a rice paddy. Anyway, they soon easily spread to all rice paddies all over the province to the horror of the farmers. They ate the young palay and were multiplying so fast and spreading via the irrigation canals. I remember in one barangay that they tried to confine them by fencing a portion of the rice paddy with sticks, but of course, these did not work. Soon we heard that they are so voracious that they ate young fish and shells or their eggs. And then we didn’t see anymore agudong, fanisfis, ket-an or lisdeg being sold in the market.
Gone were the abundant and diverse and yummy supply of indigenous sources of protein. True, we have such an abundant supply of golden kuhol now but its because nobody wants it. I am not a picky eater but I don’t like golden kuhol. My cousin puts so much effort preparing it but it still tastes awful. It was so ironic and so sad. Where was the concerned government agency?
What was the government reaction to this golden kuhol plague? How about the famers? Of course, the farmers wouldn’t take this sitting down. It’s their survival at stake. They devised natural ways to control the pest but industry was quick to come to the rescue (as usual) by coming up with powerful chemicals to kill these mollusks. As usual, the response of industry and government to pests (whether in plants, animals and people) is to kill these pests and with aggressive advertising, what do we expect. We lose our common sense. Sigh….
There are a lot of studies on this GAS plague (golden apple snail or golden kuhol). One study summarized the issue “GAS infestation poses several problems in rice farming systems. They damage young rice seedlings, causes poor crop stand, yield losses, additional expenses, and lethal effects of synthetic commercial molluscicides including the unaccounted environmental costs where bodies of water are the main recipients of the runoff of various formulations of nonspecific molluscicides.” (Dancel and Joshi, 2000 in The apple snail website). Makes me cry.
After some years of their absence, I was elated to see the revival of fanisfis and ket-an and lisdeg in the Bontoc market. Apparently, some sturdy eggs survived all these assaults. Praise God! And just this February, during our health mission in Ngibat (the smallest barangay of Tinglayan, Kalinga), I tasted agudong again. It seemed a century since I last tasted it. No, let us say half a century since. It was an awesome experience. I felt so thankful that here is a community that was able to escape the menace of the golden kuhol. True enough, as we walked by the baneng of their wide ricefields, we didn’t see any of those ubiquitous bright pink eggs. It appears that the people of Ngibat rejected the introduction of golden kuhol in their community. Wow! Here is an indigenous community that exercises its right to self-governance and self-determination. Could we have some more communities like Ngibat? And can we have free prior and informed consent of indigenous communities before introducing any new technology or plant or animal species?
It’s not only the synthetic pesticides and herbicides and golden kuhol that has wrecked havoc to our indigenous aquatic biodiversity. In Natonin, we also learned about an introduced species of “kulip” that is bigger than the indigenous variety but would choke the young rice plants. And the “turachok” (?), a queer kind of fish that has a single tail fin and that bores rice paddies causing erosion.
The reason for introducing these foreign edible plants and animals are because of the perceived lack of food supply in our communities. See how government and private agencies continuously look for “malnourished”, “underweight” and “stunted” so they can be “rehabilitated”. See how popular “supplemented feeding” is – done in communities in the past, now in schools (very captive). And of course, the first thing that comes to mind of policy-makers when they see these figures is that of lack of food supply. So the response is more food production. So that these poor people will have more protein, let us give them giant kuhol, pig & cow and goat dispersal, kabir, sassoo. For more carbohydrates, let’s develop short-lived palay (bi-it) so they can harvest three times a year.
I wonder if it ever entered the mind of policy makers to learn first how communities, especially indigenous communities, have survived all these centuries. I wonder if they ever entered a forest and observed the awesome biodiversity and interdependence of the resident plants and animals there. I wonder if they ever thought of the quiet and peaceful life in the barrio, how self-reliant the people are, producing their food, preparing their food, fetching their water, catching fanisfis and yes, gathering agudong. Idyllic. I am thinking that if these policy makers had these thoughts, maybe the golden kuhol wouldn’t have reached our shores. Maybe.**
**
“Sensible people keep their eyes glued on wisdom, but a fool’s eyes wander to the ends of the earth.” Proverbs 17:24
