The pigs that maraude our campus off hours are getting desperate. Starving for water, the pigs have taken to rooting up places they have never touched before. No irrigation spicket is off limits; no rock left unturned; no root ball untested. Just yesturday, the pigs pulled up part of the back lawn, directly under our shaded, outdoor classroom; husk marks and all. They drained the pond students made the day before that, leaving desperate guppies in two inches of water.
Students greet pig destruction with fascination and a determination to trick them back. Many favor hunting the pigs so our school could have a grand feast. A few sixth grade boys even claim they could do the job. Some students cringe that the thought of killing our school pigs but when asked who in the group eats spam, those same squeemish hands go up.
Students have decided it is far more sustainable to their own bacon eating habits to kill pigs that live on our island and get away from transporting foreign ham. Many class discussions have centered on pig issues, but all agree - the pigs must suffer defeat.
Central to our talks is the fact that our school is smack dab in the middle of ancient pig stomping ground, of some kind. IPCS is located in Pua'a Ahupua'a. Pua'a = pig, Ahupua'a=pig alter; an rock marker that depicted the barriers of ancient land divisions, ahupua'a, that stretched from ocean to mountain with inhabitants trading food and resources from the different zones. We don't know why our ahupua'a was named "Pig," but judging from the amount of the hairy beasts present, they've been around for a long time. I've read about a feast in ancient Kona where 300 pig and 200 dog were said to be cooked up for one party. Mahi'ai (food cultivators) would open and invite pigs in to a new patch, let them move around the rocks, and then wall them out when their rooting was deep enough to plant.
Students never loose hope. Even when pigs have stolen pineapple days away from perfect ripeness, they shrug it off. Replant. Put up a better fence. "What about speading chili peppers around?"
We'll get them one of these days. And when we do, you're invited to the feast.
Krista Joan says:
My mission is to teach, train, and testify in resistance to the white supremacy of my ancestors. My personal choices are political, powerful, and practical. Let's trash waste.