TRAILS UP NORTH

Glo Abaeo Tuazon
Of rums and molasses

SADANGA, Mountain Province -- The morning dew desperately clings to blades of sugarcane leaves. With sunrise peeping across the western skies, morning calls with the crowing of cocks and snorting of pigs waiting to be fed. Smoke starts filling up chimneys from makeshift dirty kitchens – the pounding of pestles on mortars emitting thud-thudding sounds, to provide the grains for the day. Across another house, a baby started crying.

The sun is a reddish hue as it rises slowly up in a lazy pace. It makes me think of roses, but definitely the smell of the place is not roses at all. The wafting smell of smoke on burning hearths gives me the homey welcome of rural independence and simplicity.

Not very distant are pig stys and chicken coops ready to explode chickens when lifted up to let loose livestock held safe for the night. And yes, near the houses or somewhere on backyards are stick-like protrusions of sugarcanes. The sweet, sticky cuts oozing juicy liquid attracting hordes of ants parading to conquer the spots.

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This is Sadanga, a place situated on a more elevated location from the other sorrounding municipalities. Where the climate changes from warm to very warm, warm to cool and cool to cold, conjucive to sugarcane plants. It is tradition here to make molasses and rum comes harvest time.

This process and event they call the saknit. This is the time when people do the harvest, often in groups doing one's crop first and then helping with the next. These days though a family does its own with the help of hired hands or relatives, the kids often tagging along and given "sweet sticks" to chomp and sip. The busy days would see the harvesters clad in long sleeved shirts, an effort to stay protected from the heat, the scratches from the blades of leaves, and the itch.

The sticks are then collected and piled on oxcarts, pulled by the beasts or carried by workers to the place where they would be processed. The wooden contraption that would squeeze the juice out of the canes starts whirring.
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In the olden days, these "machines" are big, spanning 18-24 feet (or more), pulled by an ox (carabao) or two. In the absence of oxens, a number of men and women line up on either side of the handlebars and push it, going in a dizziying circular motion. The canes are shoved in the middle of the machine, between two logs than turn and squeeze the canes dry. A large vat is placed below it to collect the juice. Then the fire starts to burn, slowly the molasses cooks. On the other hand, part of the juice collection are placed in large earthen jars and brewed into rums.

In this highland area they call this rum fayash or fvayash. The brewing and fermentation process takes about three months to mature, but most prefer to open it a lot, lot later. As most brewed concoction goes, the older the brew, the better, and more potent.

Some brewers prefer it plain, some puts in a few drops of herb they call gamo. This they say alters the taste a bit, for rum drinkers, the gamo makes it more smooth and suave.

The saknit is an indigenous practice and process they do in Sadanga. Tasting the rum, I'd say it does have a distinct taste. Like every place around the Cordilleras that does their own brew, the taste and aroma differ, defining the place where it was produced.

Sadanga fvayash is so distinct that a glassful dared to me to be drank bottoms up made me see things in a different way, more colorful. Coupled with a bowlful of tapey (young rice wine, still with the mush), ooowww, really colorful. email: twilight_glo@yahoo.com