Every dog has its day

This post is way past due but I didn't have the right words until now.

Tradition, defined by its latin forefather 'traditionem', translates to "handing over, or passing on." Being a microcosm of the melting pot that is America, I carry on my back an odd concoction of traditions and customs. The Filipina in me shakes her hips at the vaguest notion of music. The newly formed American version of me stands proud and confused by the paradoxical yet patriotic act of flag burning. Although I am a gluttonous gourmand of any edible bits of information available to me, I fail to know all the traditions of both these backgrounds. But I was and always will be struck by the assumption that it is part of the Filipino (if not all of the South Eastern Asian cultures) to eat dog.

So I asked a few people why dogs are off the menu. Of course one answer pointed out the less than pristine habits of a dog. Being in close proximity to our canine counterparts, we see all their filthy idiosyncrasies--from autogenital licking, to drinking from the toilet, we are painfully exposed to the disgusting things that could be going on in our four legged friends. Although for me this is a compelling enough argument not to eat a dog there is a more salient reason for keeping fido kosher. In America, dogs are treated as a part of the family. Paris Hilton even goes to the extent of toting her Chihuahua, Tinkerbell, in haute couture bags. In the end, the consensus claims there's something wrong with sautéing man's best friend. 

I can't speak for all of the Asian cultures but the plight of the Native Filipino is close to my heart. Recently having visited my homeland, I again was exposed to the overwhelming poverty seeping through the streets. The smell of sewage in the air and the stench of corruption in the bureaucracies has left the countrymen and women  gasping for air. The daily minimum wage is a measly 400 pesos or roughly 8 American Dollars. While the cost of an average meal from McDonalds is 80 Pesos. I'm not a brilliant mathematician but I know there's a flaw in that equation. Although some controversy swirls around the methods of harvesting dog meat, the matter boils down to survival. The lipid padded derrières of most Americans don't know the meaning of starvation. Most exploit the funds intended for the disabled and impoverished. Most are blind to the reality  of the empty distended bellies half a world away. They see the traditions of America instead. They see the ideal of pulling oneself up by the boot straps. They praise the self made man.  But most of all they love their hotdogs.

The 233rd birthday of our nation was a spectacle. Like every year we had fireworks, flags and of course Nathan's annual hot dog eating contest. This year, to even qualify, contestants had to eat 32 hotdogs in 12 minutes. But in the end, the three time champion Joey Chestnut wins the competition eating a shocking 68 dogs in 10 minutes. Nathan's contest is just one of the many ludicrous competitions condoning gluttony. There are countless pie scarfing, pizza popping, canoli consuming contests in the nation for sport. Not to mention, the completely self-serving 'challenges' on the food network that urges chefs and bakers to fabricate buildings made of food. 

So the question posed no longer ponders the harm in eating dog. But I ask, which is worse? Eating a dog in order to survive another day? Or for one man to consume hot dogs enough to feed 68 people? To praise and promote excess, while most go without? 

To this day I have never eaten a dog, but who knows? I've got some time.