If you asked a Filipino what their national sport is, most people would instantaneously reply that its Cockfighting. And there is plenty of evidence that this is a really popular 'sport' in the Philippines. Just about everyone outside of metro Manila keeps a cock or few in their yards to grow into a prime fighting cock. Its just impossible to miss the plethora of Cocks tethered to poles in the gardens of peoples homes while sitting on the Jeepney travelling down the road. I'm told that for many people, their fighting cock(s) are prize possessions and are treated with the best possible food and care. A fighting cock from a renowned breeder can go for as much as PHP 10,000. Thats £130.
So during the past few weeks I've spoken to a number of Filipino chaps about cockfighting. And I have asked them if they find the sport cruel or barbaric ? In response you'll get a blank look and a response such as "No, whats the problem ?". I've gone as far as explaining that its Illegal in most of Europe and has been for a long time. However after so many responses, I was pretty convinced that most Filipinos find the sport quite acceptable and don't see a major issue with it. I was curious as to why not, to why it was so popular and most of all I wanted to get my head around the most popular pastime in the Philippines. Roll on Siquijor, a small island in the Visaya's with one cash machine, no chain restaurants and only 87k inhabitants.
Another awesome sunset over Siquijor
I decided to take a Motorbike for a spin around the island to visit, amongst other things, at cave at near the village of Cantabon and to climb to the top of the high peak on the island, Mt Bandila-an. Near the top of the peak, I become suspicious when chaps started to file past on their motorbikes, with almost everyone carrying a cock under one arm. Sure enough some 15 minutes later I rode past a small hamlet with a few hundred motorbikes parked outside. The chaps hanging around on the track told me a cock fight was starting, a special derby organised a few days after All Saints Day as friends and family are in town.
I was met by a 20 peso entrance fee, followed by the scene of men, young and old, hanging around with their chickens, eyeing up the competition. It turns out that this is the first step to a fight ... finding an opponent who you believe you have a chance of beating. Of course it takes two parties to agree to a fight and the size of your bird, breed, reputation and aggression are all crucial factors. Many of the chaps will not find a suitable opponent and have to wait until next weeks derby.
Then comes cocks being kitted up for a fight, specifically by having a rather scary looking blade attached to their left leg. Its a rather sobering sight, amplified with the wariness exercised by the handlers while putting the blade in place. The blade is placed over a sharp spur on the birds ankle and the length of the blade will vary depending on the size of the bird. Incidentally, I did not realise that the sharp spur is part of the birds physique thanks to thousands of years of evolution. For survival to be the fittest, a Cock only gets to breed if it is able to fight off other male competitors, and a cock with a bigger, more powerful ankle spur will survive to be the fittest. Or so the theory goes, if cocks were once again in the wild.
Attaching a blade to a Cock. A rather sobering sight.
Then comes the ring. A raised glass platform with a frenzy of men shouting and betting over the next fight. Some chaps will be sipping Beer, Tuba and Tanduay while they try and find a suitor for the next bet. Betting here is between punters with no middleman or bookmaker and is achieved by a series of hand signals signifying the amount of the bet and which bird they want to make a bet on. I found this curiously interesting for a couple of reasons: There is no percentage of each bet going to the house and if there is an overly dominant bird (I.E. everyone wants to bet on it) then there is no market for bets.
The fights I saw were swift. The handlers worked up their birds and then following a quick flurry of fighting you end up with a winner and (a dead) loser. This usually happens all within the space of a minute. The chickens are then whisked off, with the losing chicken ending up on the dinner table, although I am told that the a fighting cocks meat is rather tough thanks to the dietary supplements fed to the bird to make it stronger and bigger. The winning chicken makes a visit to the cock doctor for a checkup and the suturing of any injuries that it may have sustained so they can fight another day. As my dive guide for the past few days explained, his Cock has won four fights, was fixed up every time and has just retired, so that he can breed the blood line with the hope being that his offspring may be able to fight just as well.
Cock Doctor with his box of tricks, fixing up the winner of the last fight.
So having been and experienced the national sport of the Philippines first hand, how did I feel on reflection ? With this being my first experience of a bloodsport I was not as shocked as I thought I would be. Some of the animal treatment in China and Pakistan upset me to a much greater degree. The chickens at the cockfighting area had pretty quick and less painful death than the chickens I saw being butchered on the street in Pakistan. In Pakistan the chickens were bled to death over a miserable few minutes, as is required by Islamic custom of preparing food that is called Halal. That said the chickens in the ring have a fight for their life, which is not pleasant nor can it be humane. Finally seeing dogs slaughtered in front of their companions in a market while I was in Yangshou, China, upset me a whole lot more. That experience still haunts me.
What I also can't help but reflect on is that this sport is so ingrained within the Filipino's culture. They see it as part of their heritage and are proud of it. A Sunday afternoon at the cockfight for a Filipino, appears to him, to be no different to a saturday afternoon at the game for a Brit. But does that make it right ?
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