When I was younger, December always gave me mixed feelings. On one hand, I couldn’t wait for the long holiday because it meant my cousins would be home for Christmas! On the other hand, I dreaded it because December also marked the start of Mongomot, the paddy harvesting season. Back then, in my young mind, Mongomot meant hard labor, and trust me, it was no joke.

Harvest time was a lot of work. First, we had to set up a makeshift tent using tarps and bamboo. Then, we’d begin cutting the paddy grain stalks from the husk. While some people did the cutting, most of us kids were tasked with carrying and stacking the stalks. The hardest part, though, was separating the paddy grain from the stalks. Even though it was done under the shade, it was tough work. Once the sack, attached to the separating table, was full, it was tied up and carried to the paddy hut. From there, it would be taken to a machine to be processed into the rice we eat.

It wasn’t a one-day job, and without machines, everything had to be done by hand. To speed things up, we would do Mitabang, a tradition where neighbors help each other. Some of us kids and teenagers even earned a little extra money by helping out in other villagers’ fields.

Though I didn’t particularly enjoy the hard work during harvest season, I always found myself looking forward to it. Since Mongomot happened during the school holidays, it meant my family, especially my cousins, would be around to help. Working alongside family made the labor feel more like fun. We’d laugh while cutting the stalks, joke while separating the grains, and sometimes we’d treat ourselves to a refreshing dip in the nearby river after a long day in the hot sun!

These days, most paddy harvesting is done by machines, and only a few people still practice the old ways. Plus, with newer varieties of paddy, harvest season doesn’t always fall in December. Personally, I hardly ever participate in Mongomot anymore, but the memories of those days, and the lessons I learned, stay with me. It taught me to appreciate the food on my table and the hard work that goes into it. I’d love to send my own kids to experience Mongomot one day, but as for owning my own paddy field? I’m perfectly fine buying rice at the supermarket for now!