The Tea That Never Was

Know what scatology means? Darn right you are. It is the study of feces.

Another distasteful duty in my environmental work was completion of scatological studies.

I had been instructed to devote part of my effort to collecting and examining dog scats. This was not a chore with which I was delighted, but do it I must.

With a pair of long forceps, I collected the feces and placed them in a tin water pail.

At home, I dumped some the dog feces on a table and, donning a gas mask, started to analyze them. Mind, dog scats are loaded with eggs of a particularly dreadful parasite which, if inhaled by human, hatch into minute worms that tunnel their way into the brain where they encyst, usually with fatal consequences to their host.

Deeply engrossed in my work, I failed to notice the group that stealthily crept behind me. They were my neighbors. They were Igorots, Ilocanos, and Tagalogs – all my friends. They previously heard that I was collecting dog feces but nothing they had heard beforehand had prepared them for the sight when they arrived.

As we talked, I noticed several of them casting surreptitious glances at the scat pail and the mound of feces on the table. I interpreted this as curiosity and pompously decided their interest as subtle suggestion that they would appreciate a cup of tea and sandwiches.

Keenly observing me, they watched as I threw the dog feces on the ground, thoroughly washed out the pail with soap and water then filled it with fresh water to boil.

I told them to wait and retired in the house to boil water and prepare bread.

Laden with food, I stepped out thirty minutes later. My cheerful mood did not survive for long.

All my visitors were gone.

I was offended and puzzled. When Berto Sandoval, another good friend of mine, came one day, I told him what transpired and demanded an explanation. He cross-examined me, searching questions about a pail, dog feces and urine, and other matters – queries which didn’t seem particularly relevant to me.

In the end, Berto, with tongue in cheek swore before his ancestors that he could not possibly explain why my hospitality had been so unceremoniously spurned. – Bony Bengwayan Jr.