The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XLVI 211
CHAPTER XLVI
The Cockpit
To keep holy the afternoon of the Sabbath one generally goes to the cockpit in the Philippines, just as to the
bull-fights in Spain. Cockfighting, a passion introduced into the country and exploited for a century past, is
one of the vices of the people, more widely spread than opium-smoking among the Chinese. There the poor
man goes to risk all that he has, desirous of getting rich without work. There the rich man goes to amuse
himself, using the money that remains to him from his feasts and his masses of thanksgiving. The fortune that
he gambles is his own, the cock is raised with much more care perhaps than his son and successor in the
cockpit, so we have nothing to say against it. Since the government permits it and even in a way recommends
it, by providing that the spectacle may take place only in the public plazas, on holidays (in order that all may
see it and be encouraged by the example?), from the high mass until nightfall (eight hours), let us proceed
thither to seek out some of our acquaintances.
The cockpit of San Diego does not differ from those to be found in other towns, except in some details. It
consists of three parts, the first of which, the entrance, is a large rectangle some twenty meters long by
fourteen wide. On one side is the gateway, generally tended by an old woman whose business it is to collect
the sa pintu, or admission fee. Of this contribution, which every one pays, the government receives a part,
amounting to some hundreds of thousands of pesos a year. It is said that with this money, with which vice
pays its license, magnificent schoolhouses are erected, bridges and roads are constructed, prizes for
encouraging agriculture and commerce are distributed: blessed be the vice that produces such good results! In
this first enclosure are the vendors of buyos, cigars, sweetmeats, and foodstuffs. There swarm the boys in
company with their fathers or uncles, who carefully initiate them into the secrets of life.
This enclosure communicates with another of somewhat larger dimensions,--a kind of foyer where the public
gathers while waiting for the combats. There are the greater part of the fighting-cocks tied with cords which
are fastened to the ground by means of a piece of bone or hard wood; there are assembled the gamblers, the
devotees, those skilled in tying on the gaffs, there they make agreements, they deliberate, they beg for loans,
they curse, they swear, they laugh boisterously. That one fondles his chicken, rubbing his hand over its
brilliant plumage, this one examines and counts the scales on its legs, they recount the exploits of the
champions.
There you will see many with mournful faces carrying by the feet corpses picked of their feathers; the creature
that was the favorite for months, petted and cared for day and night, on which were founded such flattering
hopes, is now nothing more than a carcass to be sold for a peseta or to be stewed with ginger and eaten that
very night. Sic transit gloria mundi! The loser returns to the home where his anxious wife and ragged children
await him, without his money or his chicken. Of all that golden dream, of all those vigils during months from
the dawn of day to the setting of the sun, of all those fatigues and labors, there results only a peseta, the ashes
left from so much smoke.
In this foyer even the least intelligent takes part in the discussion, while the man of most hasty judgment
conscientiously investigates the matter, weighs, examines, extends the wings, feels the muscles of the cocks.
Some go very well-dressed, surrounded and followed by the partisans of their champions; others who are dirty
and bear the imprint of vice on their squalid features anxiously follow the movements of the rich to note the
bets, since the purse may become empty but the passion never satiated. No countenance here but is
animated--not here is to be found the indolent, apathetic, silent Filipino--all is movement, passion, eagerness.
It may be, one would say, that they have that thirst which is quickened by the water of the swamp.
From this place one passes into the arena, which is known as the Rueda, the wheel. The ground here,
surrounded by bamboo-stakes, is usually higher than that in the two other divisions. In the back part, reaching
almost to the roof, are tiers of seats for the spectators, or gamblers, since these are the same. During the fights