Pampanga
I flew back to Manila on Christmas Day. I wasted no time and headed straight to the bus station upon landing.
Pampanga is about an hour and a half away from Manila. It’s dubbed the next capital of the country because it’s bustling.
I went there specifically for the Giant Lantern Festival which I missed.
“Ah wala na ho yun. Yung festival isang gabi lang at natapos na (Oh that’s done. The festival is for one night only and it’s finished),” said the receptionist at the AirBnB condo I booked.
The lanterns were still there though so I went.
I gotta say, I’m not quite as impressed as the lanterns I saw in Sablayan. The one in Sablayan was more grassroots whereas this was quite commercialized. What became the highlight of this trip was my fancy pants AirBnB at AzureNorth.
It was actually my first time renting a place with Netflix on the telly so I was pretty excited as I’ve only been watching Netflix on my phone. Netflix in every country varies so I was pretty stoked to have different types of selections, including more Asian films. I seek indie and international films out on purpose to begin with and having it right on my fingertips in a convenient place after roughing it up in the island was a nice breather.
I was so happy to have freshwater coming from the tap and the shower. I was also super comfortable on the bed and the place was cozy to begin with. I ordered in quite a bit and besides the lantern festival and some errands at the mall, I didn’t go out. After roughing it up for 3 days and continuously scuba diving for several days, which is very taxing on your body, I welcomed the chill for several days.
Plus, it was so fucking crowded that I didn’t want to be out because of it. When I got off the bus I thought, “Oh it’s not as crowded as Manila!”
I swallowed those words pretty fast.
On my last day, I headed back to Manila for a few days and hung out with some friends before I headed out to the Mountain Province region.
Mountain Province
Kalinga (Buscalan, Tinglayan)
This was defo the most challenging part of the journey. Panicking during your refresher course due to trauma was challenging because it had to do with self-regulation. This, however, was very physically taxing and no amount of self-regulation would’ve alleviated it.
I left this part last because I was going to get tattoos and you can’t bathe nor get in the water when you have fresh tattoos. I did bring my own second skin but I just didn’t want to dive for 45-55 minutes at a time, multiple times within consecutive days, soaking my fresh tattoo in saltwater.
After my last dive trip, I put myself in a headspace where the water part of my trip is done (was tempted to budge in 1 more dive day but no time).
I love mountains… and the views during the ride to get there was nothing short of breathtaking.
When we got to the other point of the mountain, I knew there was some trekking involved. I didn’t expect there to be a luggage tram so that was nice because we arrived around 9 or 10 in the morning and the sun was scorching… little did I know that the tram wasn’t going to help with the challenge which I nothinged.
I looked it up on all trails which told me that it was going to be about a 98 metre / 130 ft incline.
The Path to Whang-Od
I’ve hiked and climbed bigger elevations before. What I failed to take into account is that the incline is only half the trail because we descend on the first half. So we’re looking at 98 metres / 130 ft within half a km.
They have built steps it felt like it didn’t make a difference especially under the scorching sun. The steps were essentially on my face during most of the incline and if the steps weren’t there, I estimate the incline to be about 60-80° degrees like you can almost climb it.
It was brutal.
Granted, there were some blessings that came with it.
One of our mates almost passed out. I don’t think they take into account altitude sickness because I think his issue was a mix of that and the challenge of the hike so we took many breaks. I needed the breaks too. During which, I decided to chat up Rebecca, who was our local tour guide.
Rebecca, a Butbut tribe member
I did some previous research but it was really spotty as there are no official information and they were all just blogs. As I sat there, panting my life away, I asked her, “Bakit kung saan saan pwede kayong mapunta dito kayo sa bundok napadpad? (Your tribe could’ve lived everywhere. How did you end up here?)” I asked.
She laughed because of the context of the situation.
I asked if I can take a video of her while she narrated the story. She smiled and looked away, “‘Wag na lang (No, don’t),” she timidly said. They’re very humble and unassuming people.
“Kasi ho yung mga ninuno namin, dati sa kapatagan nakatira. Pero naghanap ng ibang babahayan kasi naghahanap ng bagong lupa. Napili nung mga matatanda sa bundok. Yung mga kabataan gusto sana sa kapatagan pero hindi sila pinayagan kasi pag naghiwa-hiwalay sila, mahihinaan yung grupo nila kasi minsan nag-aaway ang mga tribo. Nagkakagera. (Our ancestors used to live in the plains. But they looked for a different home around better lands – for farming. They chose the mountains. The younger ones wanted to stay in the plains but the elders didn’t allow it because the tribe would get weak for when wars happen),” she replied.
“Ano hong pinag-aawayan ng mga tribo (What do the tribes fight over)?” I asked.
“Lupa at teritoryo (Land and territory),” she replied.
Interesting. It’s like modern day wars. Upon hearing this, I realized that wars are a necessary part of Life just as sometimes we, unfortunately, go into wars with ourselves. More on this later.
Despite the gruelling hike, everything felt like it happened so fast. We reached the village around noon and by then all we wanted to do was rest and eat. We were directed to our homestay and my mates and I settled in.
After eating lunch, I asked around as to where Whang-Od might be.
Whang-Od
“Hindi mo nakita? Dinaanan nyo na kanina yung lugar (You didn’t see it? You passed by the area where she’s tattooing),” a local replied.
We had one of the local guides lead us to where she was tattooing. I anticipated to be starstruck as in I would want to shriek with excitement but that wasn’t the feeling at all. When I got there, everything just felt… normal.
I waved at Whang-Od as she turned her head my way. She just looked back at the tattoo she was in the process of finishing.
“Pa-tattoo na kayo (Are you getting tattooed now)?” asked a local.
“Ah mamaya na lang ho. Kararating lang namin (In a bit. We just arrived),” I said.
“Ah kung gusto mong mag pa tattoo kay Whang-Od kelangan ngayon na. Kasi mamaya aakyat pa yan sa bundok para sa To-or (Oh if you want to get tattooed by Whang-Od, you have to do it now. She’s going further up the mountain for To-or (farming ritual),” the lady said.
Whang-Od is 107 years old. I like how they’re casually going up and down the mountains whereas we almost died, literally for my mate too. Damn.
There was another group before us. The lineup wasn’t so bad because it was New Year’s Eve.
We waited patiently for our turn and during which, Whang-Od made a mistake. She doesn’t tattoo full on designs anymore. She just does the 3-dot signature but I guess she missed an aim at one point because it turned out to be 4 dots on one lady. Whang-Od gladly corrected it by offering a design.
Everyone was in anticipation; she doesn’t do designs anymore. This is, as I would find out later on, the first rarity of this occasion.
The lady who was getting it though doesn’t have any tattoos so she was apprehensive and stressed out. Whang-Od asked her (with the local translator) if she can take the pain.
After their group was done, it was our turn. I wanted the dots to be at the back of my neck below the Filipino-Canadian tattoo I have. Little did I know that I was to be surprised…
Once I was done, I had one of my mates take a photo of the tattoo. This was when I found out that she modified the 3 dot placement. It’s usually lined straight but she customized it to have a better layout with my existing tattoos.
Hah! I was so stoked! I felt so special! 😁
But that wasn’t it.
After everyone in our group got tattooed, we did another photo session with Whang-Od. The other tribe members who were around for translations and to supervise told us that it’s okay to hug her.
One of my mates went first and did the finger pointing thing at the camera and to our surprise and amusement, Whang-Od followed suit! Haha! Then one of my other mates went in and did the shaka sign, which Whang-Od also did. I was kinda bummed about because I was thinking of doing the same thing.
When it came to my turn, I sat beside her and put my arm around her. I was slowly doing the shaka sign when this happened…
Whang-Od initially played with my spacers and then touched my septum ring as she jokingly said, “Kalabaw.”
Carabao in the Philippines – image courtesy of Wikipedia
Carabaos are water buffaloes that rice farmers plow their field. The Butbut tribe are mainly rice farmers.
They would pierce the carabaos’ septum to put a ring on it or to put ropes in it so that farmers can train young ones and it helps them navigate the buffaloes to the right path.
It’s kinda like horses with ropes I suppose, except this one is harnessed on their noses.
I was honestly kinda ready for Whang-Od to grab my crotch lol. I’ve seen videos of her grabbing people’s crotches, for women, to verify their gender when she’s not sure. With my shaved head, I thought she might get confused but I guess that’s not what she saw in me.
Facial mods are actually an indigenous thing. My spacers and my septum rings are more derived from African tribes more than anything. It’s not really a Filipino thing. A divemaster actually brought up some tribes that put multiple necklace chokers to lengthen the women’s necks as it’s their definition of beauty.
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- courtesy of twofeatherplugs.com
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- courtesy of Medium.com
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- courtesy of Tribalik.co.uk
I was unbelievably stoked. It’s rare she interacts with people like she did with me.
After the session, Whang-Od went up further in the mountain and I went back to our homestay.
Karen and Toto
I kept asking about the people who were doing tattoos since Whang-Od doesn’t do designs anymore. She can only pass down the skill to bloodline so the younger ones are her great-great-great-something-nephew and nieces.
The ink is essentially charcoal they had used for cooking mixed with water. Just a heads up, the ink that Whang-Od uses is communal, meaning, she uses the same bowl of ink for everyone. You have your own thorn though. The stick that holds the thorn is made of bamboo and the “needle” itself are thorns from plants.
I selected the Serpent Eagle (heavenly guidance and protection) and Traveller (to help guide us on our paths) for my left forearm and the Ladder pattern (reach heavens & achievement) as well as the Snake pattern (safety, protection, health, shield) for my right wrist. I was going to have it as an armband instead but I didn’t bring enough cash and there are no phone receptions, no internet, and no ATMs.
Honestly, I was glad it turned out to be a wristband because it hurt like a bitch.
It started out with just Karen tattooing me the patterns on my wrist. When Toto was done with the other guy, Karen asked me if I’m okay with two people tattooing me at the same time.
I said okay… which I regretted within 5 minutes of Toto tattooing me at the same time as Karen but I didn’t back out because if I did, we would’ve reached nightfall before the other tattoo was done and I was just so damn tired. I wanted to get it over with.
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- Bamboo Sticks
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- Charcoal + Water = Butbut Tattoo Ink
I brought my own second skin to help with the healing. After the tattoos were done, I went back to the homestay and asked a couple of my mates for help in putting it on.
“Ang lamig ng kamay mo (Your hands are so cold)!” one of them said.
“Siguro kasi ang daming sakit ngayong araw at grabe din ang sakit nito. Dalawa pang sabay (Maybe it’s because I’m experiencing a lot of pain today and the pain from these tattoos are pretty bad. Two of them were tattooing me at the same time),” I replied.
From the brutal climb to the village to the pain of the tattoos; I was ready to call it a night. I was done.
This was definitely the most challenging part of the trip. It was so much pain and I was not prepared for the literal and metaphorical terrains. It was so painful and I was so tired that I forgot to take a photo of the final products so here they are when I got home (about a week later).
I needed to break my cash so I went around the village for souvenir things. I ended up getting a necklace and a few other items that I was gonna give to friends and family when I got back. I also got a small Buscalan coffee pack because I needed to further break my bills. It turned out to be great coffee! I wish I had gotten more but luckily, some family is coming to New York at the end of March so I asked them to get it for me.
It’s the type of coffee that really wakes you up but lets you sleep at night and I’m sensitive to caffeine so that was a big deal for me.
Buscalan Coffee, grown in their own fields
That night, the city tour guide announced that we would need to wake up at 3:30am because we need to descend the mountain at 4am, which is not 6am (when there’s some sunlight). I was pretty miffed. It’s a steep incline and descent is more challenging with regard to balance plus it was raining that night so it would be slippery.
It was New Year’s Eve but we didn’t stay up until midnight because of this. We didn’t really party or anything but we did smoke weed.
Fun fact: indigenous tribes have been using herbs since the dawn of time for spiritual purposes. A friend of mine used to study these things and apparently hallucinogens like ayahuasca is somewhere in the Northeast of the compass as it’s for purging or something. There are different herbs for each direction and right in the middle of it is weed.
Weed, in indigenous tribes, are considered a catalyst herb so when you’re starting a new chapter in your life or something of the sort, this would be the herb to go. Evidently, I catalyze my life several times in a week.
You’re not allowed to bring weed in just as you’re not allowed to bring weed out. It’s still very illegal in the Philippines but there are loopholes like these because to these people, weed is holy.
And I really respect that.
I hung out with some of my mates during which. One of them has never smoked weed before so I started up the pipe to show him how it’s done.
The city tour guide was talking to us about his experiences there. He was telling us about how he’s spent so many days there and have spent his birthday several times. “Minsan lahat tulog na and madilim na at kami na lang maingay (Sometimes everyone is sleeping and it’s dark and we’re the only ones who are loud),” he bragged.
It rang a bell inside of me. I thought it was a bit disrespectful, “Hindi kayo pinapaalis (Don’t they kick you out)?” I asked.
“Hindi. Nagdadala kami ng pera dito. Hindi kami nyan gagalawin (No. We bring money in. They’re not going to touch us,” he kept bragging.
Yeah, I hated him. I made a mental note to blacklist those guys and if I ever come back, it won’t be with them.
I had a shower, ate my dinner, and called it a night.
Around midnight (New Year), my mates and I intermittently woke up to the sounds of fireworks and, as we found out later, gunshots.
The next day, some of our mates woke us up around 4am. We had breakfast and got ready to leave.
The descent sucked. It was pitch black darkness and all we had were our flashlights and we had to bring our bags with us because the luggage tram wasn’t operating yet. I took it very slowly especially since the sandals I had were shit for slippery rocks. The local tour guides held me by the hand at some points which was very kind of them. They kept trying to ask me to take out the second skin too because they thought it was ordinary plastic so I kept refusing.
When we finally got to the other side, we still had to wait a bit for the van as we woke up the driver because it was still dark.
As we rode the van on our way back, we started gaining back phone reception. I messaged the other city tour guide (they were partners) asking them if they can just pick me up on their way back to Manila too because I didn’t have reason to go back to Buscalan. If I had more time, I would’ve stayed a week or so because tourists are actually allowed to participate in their farming ritual and I wanted to get to know the people more… but I didn’t have time.
The city tour guide then replied to me that they’re not passing by the town I’m going to on their way back. I had reserved for two slots so I’m technically was going on two trips to Buscalan. I already don’t like them because of the aforementioned reasons. They also made me show up early to the meeting point only to be 2 hours late with no apologies nor sensitivity towards the matter.
When I got off the van, I explained the situation to the other city guide and was only going to pay the balance for one trip. I guess they didn’t communicate because he wasn’t aware of the situation and made me pay for the deposit for the second trip as well as the balance for the first. It was 7 in the morning: I was in no mood to argue so I just gave him the extra ₱500 (about $13 CAD, $10 USD, €8). I was pissed but I also asked to just be dropped off in a town where I’ve never been before, where I don’t know anyone, I don’t speak the local dialect, and have nothing – no lodging nor transportation to get back to Manila – booked.
I had them drop me off at the ticket station for the buses and I was just to knock on doors and figure it out. It was New Year’s Day and very early in the morning so it was very quiet. It took me about an hour of walking around before I found a place which had staff readily available for me to be able to book a place.
Sagada
Sagada is a town about 3 hours away from Buscalan.
I found Sagada Guesthouse and checked in there. Rooms with shared bathroom were ₱500/night which was the only thing I could afford because I was running out of cash. The town had ATMs but it was constantly out of cash or wouldn’t take my card and all places I went to were only accepting cash. I was conserving what little I had left.
I inquired about the Sea of Clouds and Hanging Coffins as these are things people mainly come to the city for. My friend also recommended to go check it out (he’s been here a few times).
I forgot the actual figures but I was really running low on cash so I decided to pass up on the full trail for Sea of Clouds. The lodging staff hooked me up with a local tour guide.
“5:45 bukas (5:45 am tomorrow),” said the staff.
“Ganung oras ang sundo (They pick us up at that time)?” I asked.
“Oho (Yes),” he replied.
Ah! When you’re on vacation and you’re doing activities, you don’t really get to sleep in. That’s okay I suppose, I wake up around that time already anyway without an alarm, unfortunately.
I still had the rest of the New Year’s Day so I decided to check out Gaia Cafe, which a friend had recommended. I checked it out on the map and it was going to be a 20 minute walk and I couldn’t find any trikes around. I just started walking to the spot when I flagged a trike. I asked him how much it was going to cost and he said ₱25 so I rode on the fancy trike.
When I got off, I asked the driver (Andrew was his name) if he could come back when I’m ready. He agreed to do so and we exchanged numbers.
Gaia Cafe
The place was gorgeous.
I had a chat with the owner (the lady sitting down, reading a book, in the video) who then told me that the creations in the cafe, including the mosaic floors, were all made by local artists. They had connections in Chicago too as they immigrated there and would travel back and forth between the US and the Philippines.
You can read more about the cafe on Tripadvisor here.
Once I was done my meal, I text messaged Andrew, the trike driver, to come pick me up. He informed me that it will take about half an hour as he will be coming from a little farther from the city centre. I told him that I’ll cover the cost for his trip to get me too. It only seemed fair.
By the time I got back to the inn, it was already dusk. I just kinda chilled, organized my stuff, prepped for the hike the next day, and called it a night.
Sea of Clouds and Blue Soil
At about 5:45am the next day, I was in the van headed to the start of the trail. It was only about a 15 minute ride away.
It was still dark when we started.
Start of Sea of Clouds
The hike itself was about 6 km / 3.7 miles with an elevation of 471 metres / 1500 ft.
The official name of the trail is Marlboro County via Payag-eo
There was a rest stop too on the Sea of Clouds viewpoint where I ate some Arroz Caldo as I was starving. My local guide and I chilled there for a bit before heading to the other main viewpoints; Blue Salt and Echo Valley.
It rained the night before too so it was quite muddy and my sandals had excellent traction for mud plus the elevation is much higher than in Whang-Od’s village but it was divvied by 6km so I didn’t struggle which was nice.
I got a little confused once we were done with the Sea of Clouds bit. I told the staff at the inn that I’m opting for the turning back choice (after Sea of Clouds) because going further would cost more money that I didn’t have (they only accepted cash). I told the tour guide but he insisted that it was part of the package and it was okay. I just kinda went along and thought that it would be alright and that I would figure it out somehow.
During our hike, we got to chatting. He spoke about agriculture in the Philippines and how it’s not supported. I told him that I kinda had an idea of it because I am originally from the country though I’ve seen another reality where people actually want to live in a farm. I told him that when Covid hit, a lot of office workers who work remote started moving out into the country and started farming. The community, from my perspective (I say that because I haven’t been immersed in the reality so all I have are objective insights), farmers are well supported much more in the Philippines like if you want to have a farm, the government will actually help you out.
“Maganda yan (That’s good!),” he said. “Kasi dito sa Pilipinas, minamaliit and mga magsasaka. Hindi naiintindihan ng mga tao at gobyerno na kapag walang magsasaka at nagtatanim, walang makakain (Because here in the Philippines, they belittle farmers. People don’t understand that if there are no farmers and other agricultural workers then there will be food),” he addded.
“Oo nga. Dun naiintindihan ng mga tao. Kaya ini-encourage nilang suportahan and lokal. Tsaka naiintindihan ng mga tao na ‘pag magsuporta ka ng lokal (Yeah, I know. In Canada, people understand that which is why they encourage and advertise to support local),” I said.
“Maganda yan. Dapat ganyan. Dati ako rin nagsasaka; mga tatlong taon pero tinigil ko na kasi halos walang nakikita (That’s good. That’s how it should be. I used to farm too for about three years but I stopped because I was barely making anything),” he said.
“Mga ano hong kita ninyo (Around how much were you earning)?” I asked.
He gestures with his hands, “Tinatanim ko noon mga gulay. Pero mga isang kumpol ng gulay mga apat o limang piso lang ang binibigay samin. Pati bigas halos ganun ang isang kilo (I used to plant vegetables. I would only get about ₱4 to ₱5 – about ¢.10 CAD, ¢.08 USD, ¢.06 Euros. For grains of rice, they give us about the same for a kilo),” he informed me.
I was shocked. ₱4 to ₱5 per fucking kilogram? They sell those for 10-20 times more in Manila!
image courtesy of Philstar
“Saan napupunta yung iba? Alam kung may mga kailngan ding kumita pero medyo abuso yata yun (Where does the other part of the profit go? I know there are people in the chain who need to make money out of it but that sounds like abuse),” I said.
He nodded, “Kaya nga tinigil ko na (It’s why I stopped).”
“Ano na hong pinagkikitaan nyo (What do you do for a living now)?” I asked.
“Eto. Nag to-tour guide. Malaking tulong din ‘to. ‘Pag maraming dumadayo, disente ang pagkikitaan. Tapos minsan kung ano ano; nag da -drive ng bus, tricycle. Kung anong makitaan (This. I’m a tour guide. It’s a big help. When there’s a lot of tourists, the earnings are decent. Sometimes I do odd jobs like driving a bus or a tricycle… whatever I can get my hands on,” he said.
It was heartbreaking to say the least. In the beginning of my trip, I came across locals who were skilled freedivers, featured in Western magazines and specialty channels (Nat Geo, Discovery) yet struggles to make a living. And now, I come across a former farmer in a country that is has natural riches with very fertile soil and mostly ideal weather to grow crops yet he’s also struggling.
It’s usually about politics, as I found out more later via another source.
The Butbut and Igorot (Kalinga) Tribes
We rode back to the inn from the meeting point at the end of the hike. We went for a several hour lunch break. During which, I walked around and checked out the ATMs. They were all out of order and I was in a bit of panic mode because I still needed the cash to go back to Manila (the bus station wasn’t accepting cards either), pay for the tour, and eat.
As I walked around, a random girl approached me, “Hi!” she said.
“I’m sorry if this is weird but I thought you look really cool. I saw you the other day and I wanted to talk to you. It took some guts and I was like, you know what? If she’s unfriendly at least I tried,” she added.
“Aaw! Thanks! I’m just looking around for a spot to eat lunch. Do you want to come join me?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I would love to!” she replied.
I don’t remember the name of the restaurant we ended up in, unfortunately. It was owned by locals though who we ended up chatting with.
I told them about my trip to Buscalan and how I did some research over tribal wars as well as about beheadings that they used to do.
“Nagpupugot pa rin sila ng ulo (They still behead people),” she said.
😵💫
image courtesy of igorotage.com
“Teka. Kagagaling ko lang dun. Nag ge-gera pa rin sila at nagpupugot ng ulo?!? (Wait. I was just there. They still have tribal wars and they still behead people?!?),” I asked.
“Oo. Pero nire-reserba nila yung pagpupugot sa mga grabe ang nagawa. Kahit nung high school kami, kaklase namin yung mga taga tribo nila at pag merong away, wala sila talaga sa klase (Yes. But they reserve the beheadings to ones who have committed atrocious acts. Even when I was in high school, some of their tribe members were in my class and when there’s a war, they wouldn’t attend class),” she said.
“Ano ho yung grabe (Can you give me an example of ‘atrocious’)?” I asked, a little uneasy.
“Dati may taga dooon na bumaba dito. Nag-asawa ng taga dito pero Igorot din kasi mga descendant kami ng Igorot. Nagka anak sila ng babae at pinatay. Bumaba yung mga pinuno ng tribo nila. Nag meeting sila sa council dito at pagkatapos, kinuha nila yung pumatay sa anak na babae. ‘Pag ganun walang magagawa ang pulis at militar (There was a guy from their tribe who moved to this city. He married a local though she was also an Igorot as we are all descendants of Igorot tribe – family tribe of Whang-Od’s tribe. They had a daughter who was murdered. Due to this, the leaders of their tribe descended from their mountains and came here to talk to the council. After which, they took the murderer with them. When things like that happen, there’s nothing that the cops nor the military can do),” she explains.
“Pa’no ho kung may mga turista at nag-gera (What if there’s tourists and they have a war)?” I asked.
“Ay hindi naman. Sinasarado nila lahat ng daan. Sinisiguro nilang walang tagalabas pag nangyayari yun (Oh no that won’t happen. They close all the roads and trails to their village when they have wars. They make sure that no civilians are involved),” she said.
Damn. It’s fascinating and intimidating at the same time knowing how simple they live their lives. Compared to us, Westerners, they’re essentially in poverty and very neglected by the government. They rely on farming and tourism for their income. Whang-Od looks like she makes a lot of money but, as a friend educated me, she actually helps out her village so what she earns goes to their people.
Those guys are solid.
image courtesy of larskruak.com
They’re a tight-knit community and really look out for each other to the point that if you mess with them, you’re just fucked.
It’s amazing really given what little they have. They were humble, good natured, and unassuming people. Whang-Od herself was not fazed at all by her popularity.
I couldn’t help but think of Western institutions that are very low in morale and dignity. Civilization was made to expand a human being’s capacity. The fact that there’s so much mediocrity out there goes to show how much of our humanity and ourselves we’ve forgotten because of the stigmatization that came with colonization.
As for the history of tattoos: it started out with indigenous tribes which then became stigmatized when colonialism happened and then people in jail started doing it with makeshift equipment. This is when much of the social stigma began.
As far as patriarchy goes: traditional indigenous garment sometimes would have no tops for women and as the story of my Indian friend goes (bear with me I have a point), women used to not have any undergarments with their sarees. It wasn’t until the British came that they sexualized it and they were required to wear something underneath. It’s the same story with the tribes; once colonialism came, they required women to wear tops because they sexualized nudity instead of seeing it as something innocent and perfectly natural… Fail.
Once my new friend, who’s from Manila visiting the city like me, and I finished our convo, we headed back to the inn. She asked to be part of the Hanging Coffins tour and the staff as well as the tour guide were both okay with it. I found out that the fee would be the same regardless of how many people were joining the tour which was nice for me as I only had to pay half then since I had a new mate. The only other additional fee that we would incur is the park fee which is an individual charge.
We headed off to the Hanging Coffins as soon as our local tour guide arrived.
Hanging Coffins
We didn’t need to take transportation to get there or anything as the park was only about 10-15 minute walk from the city centre.
Reese, my new friend, came with me. 😊
She’s already been to the Hanging Coffins apparently but she wanted to check it once more.
So as the story goes, the natives’ (Igorot tribe) tradition is to hang their dearly beloved when they pass away. It’s believed that hanging them will them closer to their ancestors. This tradition dates back 2000 years and some of them still follow it.
When the colonizers came, they introduced burying the dead on the ground.
Grave Site by The Hanging Coffins
Thankfully, the Americans didn’t reject nor tell the Igorots to stop their custom. They just gave them an alternative option.
Our tour guide is of Igorot descent. We asked him if he’s getting buried on the ground or the caves.
“Hindi ko pa sinasabi sa pamilya ko kung anong gusto. Kung mawala ako ng walang nasabi, bali sa kweba ako mapupunta (I haven’t told my family yet what I want to do with my body when I pass away. Should I go before we settle it, I’ll be in the caves),” he replied.
On our way to main area where the hanging coffins are, we pass by a nook within the caves (the place is full of it).
He further narrated the customs when we arrived in the main area. His grandmother is actually on the wall here.
Our local tour guide and his grandmother in one of the coffins
After which, we headed back to town and my new mate and I hung out.
When I got back to the inn, I asked the staff about my charges… and sure enough, we had a misunderstanding. Because I didn’t turn back from the Sea of Clouds hike, I was charged the full amount. I walked around to check out the only 3 ATM’s that the town had and they were all out of cash. Thankfully, Reese had cash and I PayPal-ed her the funds.
We said our goodbyes to each other that night as I was headed back to Manila the next day and she planned on going to Whang-Od. I told her that she might as well since she was already in Sagada.
Getting Back to Manila
The next day, I still didn’t have bus tickets. The reservation was full apparently and my best bet was to wait around for the other bus that goes to another town closer to Manila and take another bus from there. None of this was on the internet or official or anything. Everything was asking around people in town and word of mouth.
I ended up waiting around for about 4 hours in the middle of the day. I’m not complaining though. I mean, this is my view:
Around 1pm, the bus line and schedule that I couldn’t get a ticket for showed up. I kept asking the driver if he had extra room. I kept getting a “no” up until right before they left. That’s when assessed, I guess, that they did have extra room so I hopped in.
The ride itself was about 12 hours. It would’ve only been around 10 but we stopped by smaller towns to pick up more passengers.
The views were amazing 😍
Gelene 