No CNY again this year

The trap is set. No one expects me to work thru out CNY. Absolutely no one. As traditionally plantation life comes to a permafrost two week halt during CNY. Two long weeks of hibernation, when everything just freezes over and comes to standstill.

But I don’t have a choice. For years the oil mill barons have used this lull to their advantage by dictating unreasonable terms to me and others – for years, I could do nothing except bow in supplication to their lousy terms. After all they are so powerful and I am so weak.

But I have studying them. I am convinced there is a weakness in a system. A chink in their seemingly invincible amour that I can exploit to full effect ONLY during CNY – since the oil mill barons believe nothing can move during CNY, they have traditionally used this lull to shut down their mills to upgrade their manufacturing processes – thereafter they will squeeze the primary producers such as myself to pay for these manufacturing improvements. But this year will be very different, if everything goes to plan.

I plan to starve the oil mill barons of precious fruit by buying up everything and transporting the fruit bunches through the serpentine plantation roads during CNY secretly to be refined elsewhere.

After the end of the two week lull, when these fat cat oil mill barons begin their annual price negotiations again – I will simply pull the rug beneath them, put a metaphoric revolver on the table and tell them all…these are my terms…take it or leave it….as they dispensable….optional – of course, its a bluff. An elaborate show of strenght that relies entirely on smoke and mirrors….that I don’t need them any longer to buy my fruit bunches…hopefully they will take the bait…and be cowered…as without a steady supply of fruit bunches…how can they keep their chimney stacks smoking after CNY….how can they possibly pay off the banks for their loans they have taken during the CNY hold to improve their manufacturing systems. Hopefully they will be caught off balance and this should really be enough for me to drive it hard into their gut…thereafter I sue for peace…or maybe detente – one strike to bring their mills to their knees, a Pearl Harbor surprise raid. One opportunity to win or to lose it all. If it goes well, I will buy two good years…if not, I will be ruined.

Just a couple of days ago I was cocksure that I could pull it off this time – it’s not easy to transport fruit bunches through uneven laterite plantation roads, but this year I reckoned the weather was with me unlike previous years when I was beaten back…it hasn’t rained for the last seven days….the roads are baked rock hard. But now there is a fly in the ointment….she is here…El Nino and now I am not so confident any longer.

All I need is for the clear and sunny weather to hold out just a bit longer. As for her…El Nino…I will take my chances with her. When she is in foul mood throwing pots and pans…I will lie low. Once she’s settled down and looks the other…I will rush up her skirt.

It’s come to this now. All or nothing. All to be decided in one roll of the dice.

Last night I had a strange dream. As usual, I always dream of running in tall grass. This time there was sound, but it wasn’t in technicolor like film noir – as usual, when I run in my dreams my feet always stays in the air longer than usual…as if I am gliding, only this time I heard men arguing. They were in a distance….a boy in a red shirt and a stern looking man who wore khaki flared ridding breeches, jackboots and a shoulder holstered revolver – they were fighting – it was quite far off and I remembered asking myself in the dream, what were they doing here….they’re not supposed to be here…..this my dream….the boy was shouting at the stern man…he said something to the effect, ‘you’re going to put everything on the line again and it’s all to do with your stupid pride and this time you will ruin us!” The stern man told the boy to shut up and pushed him to the ground and berated him, ‘you’re always scared…that’s all you can do, hold us back and whine, whine and whine like a wet blanket.” That was when he and the boy suddenly stopped and they both turned to look at me….they were both wearing that strange expression…’what are you doing here.’

I wanted to say something…I realized then…this is not my dream…what does it all mean.