Barbara, the pig at José's house, where Andy and Jonny are staying, has grown on all of us. We cherish her so much that having our body parts covered in dirt after one of her many snuggle-sessions is an honour. She was unexpectedly taken away from us one afternoon, in the most emotionally-charged ways imaginable. The UK volunteers have therefore decided to dedicate a few paragraphs to her; our favourite spotty pig.
‘Oh Barbara, the wonderful leopard pig who makes Babe seem as cute as Ray Winston taking a shower in comparison. If I've grown to regard my hosts as family, then Barbara has surely become the family pet. She keeps my feet warm when I'm reading, she eats my food when I'm not hungry, she slobbers on my feet when I'm not looking. I guarantee you will not find a pig with dryer hair, a sassier walk, or a bigger appetite than Barbara, our team mascot’. - Jonny
‘I have never loved a pig like I have loved Barbara. Walking around with her glorious strut, destructing all polystyrene cups in her path. I am fairly sure that in Barbara's mind she is a dog. She loves a good scratch behind the ears and sometimes she will even wag her tail. I am determined to teach her fetch before the three months are up. To see her whipped and hissed at by the family was hard to watch, especially when she was carried away in a plastic bag. I had to use all of my willpower not to start hysterically crying’. - Shannon
‘Barbara is a minx. She walks like Rihanna, strutting her hips with her hooves clicking on the ground. She’s grown big over the months, no longer a small fearful animal, now quite the feisty beast - with added attitude. She knows the food cooks in the kitchen area, and she knows what times our meals are served, so she waits with her head peaking in the doorway, snorting, looking for her chance to swoop and feast on what she can find. Her sudden departure was horrific. The UK volunteers have grown attached to her dog-like ways, so hearing a stranger tie a rope around her neck, shove her into a sack and then see him throw her over the back of a horse and ride off into the distance, all whilst her screams echoed off the mountain tops, was far too much. “She’s off to a new home”, José tells us. Off to her death, we accept, unsure whether she would already have died by the time she reaches her destination’. - Andy
‘The first time I saw that snout I just knew it was love at first sight! Barbara was one of us, and would sit by me most afternoons (as I'm her favourite) whilst I'd tickle her belly as she fell asleep. The day she left us all tied up, squealing in a sack, I knew my heart was broken. It dawned on me there'd be no more trotters running round the garden and no more snogging my leg. The next few days just weren't the same without her and it felt like part of the team was missing. A few more miserable days passed and BAM!, just like that, she was back in our lives! Apparently she'd missed me so much that she wasn't eating at her new home. It's safe to say there was an extra spring in everybody's step that day. I LOVE YOU BARBS!!!’ - Toula
As you will have realised, Barbara did make it, in the end. For reasons unknown, she stopped eating at her new house. Perhaps the hustle and bustle of her new location (the closest we can get to a city centre in Parcila) was a bit too daunting for someone used to the bucolic bliss that is José's house, surrounded by jicaro trees and mountains at the end of the village. Perhaps she was traumatised after the callous separation from us. Or perhaps our clever and canny team mascot simply decided to go on a hunger strike. Whatever the reason may be, José saw no other option but to bring her back to us, and she now prances around the house again, chewing on people's toes, pens, rucksacks and bottles, happier than ever.
Written by ICS volunteers Andy, Jonny, Toula, Shannon and Vilde
