Yesterday afternoon there was a double whammy of excitement, the weather here is pretty cold at the moment and everyone is wrapped up in coats and not out and about as much as usual but the high pitched growl of an engine starting up made me look up from the computer screen. When it settled into a rattling snarl I recognised the sound of a chain saw - not a sound you hear that often.
The last time had been in the aftermath of Cyclone Christina in Australia, the tree in our garden had been lifted by the wind and was no longer stable so it had to be cut down - very exciting process. Two men, two chainsaws and lots of rope and noise.
Across the road next to the mobile chicken coup were three trees, one was a tall thin bare trunk with a bit of greenery at the top.
It is no more!
I was in time to see the man with the chain saw cutting through the base of the trunk while a couple of the spectators were pushing against it so that it would fall away from the road. I could hear the crack and the ripping sound as the tree fell. By now a small crowd had gathered to enjoy the spectacle. Within 15 minutes of falling the trunk had been cut up and loaded on a trailer and the rest had been piled up ready for burning.
As if that wasn’t enough excitement for us all the cockerels decided to have another go at each other. This time at a different venue on my side of the road right next to our 
house. It wasn’t the cockerels but the excited chatter of lots of people that filtered through first of all. So it would have been rude not to have had a look to see what all the fuss was about. The roosters fighting had drawn quite a large crowd unlike last time when it was just me watching.
I shot a number photographs concentrating on catching the movement of the cockerels, but when I stepped from behind the camera it felt wrong, I think the cockerels had been pitted against each other this time, hence the large crowd. I felt uncomfortable and came back indoors.
I think this is another example of cultural differences as I have since read that cock fighting (chọi gà) is a traditional and popular form of entertainment in Vietnam but I’ve also read it is illegal - I can’t find a definitive answer.
There is reference from 700 years ago to cock fighting in Vietnam in a document called the Hịch Tướng Sĩ, written by General Tran Hung Dao. It was a proclamation written in the 13th Century to motivate the soldiers of Vietnam before the second battle with Kublai Khan.
And now, you remain calm when your emperor is humiliated; you remain indifferent when your country is threatened! You, officers, are forced to serve the barbarians and you feel no shame! You hear the music played for their ambassadors and you do not leap up in anger. No, you amuse yourselves at the cockfights, in gambling, in the possession of your gardens and rice fields, and in the tranquility of family life.
But to me a child brought up in a town in the UK, they were the characters in books and on television or if I thought about it hard enough where my breakfast eggs or Sunday roast came from. Chickens were in some of the first books I read; Chicken Licken, The Little Red Hen, I cheered for the hens when they rebelled against Napoleon’s leadership in Animal Farm. I laughed at Foghorn Leghorn in the Looney Toons cartoons, but like all children I was fickle with my attention and was soon caught up in the wonder that was the Clangers and the Soup Dragon.
Anyway enough of my convoluted ramblings for today, obviously too much excitement makes my thought processes more twisty and turny than usual.
