The sun would set at around 8pm in Port Wakefield these days. While I am writing this, the sun has already set, but for me and my job, the day isn’t over yet.
Twenty thousand chickens were taken out of our sheds last midnight... we collected the dead birds from the sheds this morning, and did some mechanical, electronics and plumbing works this afternoon. At 3pm, I received a call from the dressing plant—sixteen thousand birds will be going before dawn tomorrow. This means that I have to do the same pre-catch ‘rituals’ that I did last night, and then starve the birds starting midnight so they could empty their crop before the early morning harvest starts. And tomorrow at eight, the collection of the dead chooks will again commence...
...there are a lot of exhausting stories behind the juicy-licious roasted chicken of Red Rooster or the crispy, spicy fried chicken of KFC... and that is the life of a poultry farmer, the life that I have chosen for almost three years now.
I don’t know if occupying a house built a hundred meter across the poultry shed is a blessing, and at this moment I have this uncertainty if living in this house is really ‘living’ or is actually ‘working’. I am very grateful to have this gift of sight and I wish I could continue to admire the view from my windows which I, actually, doubt if it is really a scenery or just a mere surroundings. It really takes some efforts to split my mind set between my job from my ‘real life’, and during the harvest season I would temporarily lose the power to differentiate a night from a day.
The wages of sin is death; I admit I am a sinner but I don’t want to ‘die’ while I am still 'living'! I have been desperately looking for some other ways of paying the price of being too ambitious, because I believe that this is not the only way. Currently, I fear that the ‘powerful sticker’ stamped by the Australian Immigration on my Philippine passport has started to lose its potency to sustain the euphoric effect that I felt the day it was granted.
I hope I could figure it out—is this job really hard, or I am just weak?