These are from my notes...

The following was taken from notes about my little jaunt across northern Luzon. I wrote these words in a little cheap 7 peso notebook I bought. I tried my best not to edit.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Followed my desires and left for Baguio. Arrived a walked around a lot. Went ahead and stayed Burnham hotel. Woodsy interrior. Smells old. HOT WATER!! Went to Fort John Hayes-funny guard-really interested in making me stand next to things to ahve my picture taken. Afterward umikot ako sa Baguio proper. Tried to find bus terminal to Sagada. Afterward went to Faces (could not find Jam) it was pretty boring but the chicharon bulaklak was really good! I also finally started This Earth of Mankind by Pramoedya and immediately was drawn in. Left to read more. Want to eat rambutan before it goes bad. On the way to Seven Eleven saw a sign called "Footstep" strange coincidence...[this is because Footsteps is the third book in Pramoedya's Buru Quartet. The first is This Earth of Mankind.]

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Woke up early to leave. Regretted not taking pictures at the Burnham Inn. Forgot to also mention that I ate at the Forest House. Had the "Forest House Lamb." Was not that great. Rice was horrible. On the way to bus depot/terminal Baguio was surreal. Halimbawa: There was this clearly insane lady walking about 10 paces ahead of me hitting people randomly [with her fist]. People really didn't know how to react. her finale was to grab a garbage [container] in front of some convenience store and hurl it into the street. I just prayed she wouldn't stop and turn around. It's not necessarily the physical contact that disturbed me but rather the thought of looking her straight in the eyes. I'm not really quite sure what I wanted to see.

Took the bus to Sagada. I guess I was the first up to the ticket office because my seat number was #1. It was right up front. The window seemed flimsy and I was afraid to lean against it. The ride was terrifying oftentimes the gear would stick, or the road was being worked on and it seemed like we would slip out of control (due to rock or wetness) and then the road would revert to one lane only and once, the bus got really close to running off the edge because he didn't see around a curve. He usually speeds up around curves. I'm going to be honest and say I'm afraid something will happen on the way back from Bontoc. i really don't want to be negative, but I really don't want to go over that highway again. I remember what the "fortune teller" told me. I should be careful around roads. But doesn't that seem vague? Also, I already have a fear of motor vehicles and roads anyway. The Cordilleras doesn't help much.

Upon reaching Sagada I checked into the Sagada resthouse. I was more charmed by the proprietor than the residence. Very much like a kind aunt. Still, the food she made was delicious. It was truly like a home-cooked meal-I would make myself! It was a curried vegetable dish with carrots/cauliflower/green beans and some bits of pork. And the rice was superb. Best rice I've had all summer. Brown, big, and fluffy! After some thought I decided to I wanted to be in the sun. Got a tour guide to show me around. It was a nice hike but fast (not short) but he walked really fast--and he wore flip flops. Spent the rest of the day walking around town. It was really nice, although there were a lot of dogs. Usually I would think they were cute, but one of them began barking at me and following me around. I got scared but slowed, looked back at it, kept walking and it soon left me alone. Also have to say: got a really good yogurt parfait (w/granola/banana/strawberry preserves) at Yoghurt Cafe. The yogurt seemed homemade. Saw plenty of beautiful things. Also saw a bunch of piles of cowshit. They were huge! Off to Bontoc...

Friday August 15, 2008

In Vigan. Didn't get the chance, well let me rephrase this, didn't have the urge to write a passage the last 2 days. So to recreate this memory (what memory isn't a recreation?) let's begin with Wednesday.

Arrived in Bontoc rather early. The Sagada inn was a bit torn up after the noisy Koreans, the innkeeper even complained to me the next morning as I was checking out. I didn't take a bath, just brushed my teeth. Still the smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, and there seemed to be blood all over the bathroom. Don't worry it's probably not a malicious outcome, but rather because someone probably puked. Ah Korean tourists "roughing it" in the third world tropics. The trip to Bontoc was short, about an hour by jeepney, perhaps because it was slower, or perhaps it was the lower center of gravity, either way I felt pretty safe. The trip was beautiful, the cool morning air, the fog slowly burning off as the sun creeped over the mountaintops. We circled down slowly to Bontoc, which was nestled in the valley. When I arrived I immediately found my bearings as the town's layout seemed really easy to figure out. Having the Chico river cut right through it helped. When I arrived at the hotel I was pleased to find the room spacious although ugly. I was very pleased to find the television had cable and the water was hot! I took a quick shower and went off to Malagcong. The jeepney ride was great! There were all these cool people climbing onto the jeep. Happy, chatting with each other, taking their time. Strong people, their faces burnt dark brown. The older people had hard course wrinkled skin, strong hands, worn but sturdy feet. Very friendly people. The ride up was rough but beautiful, tons of foliage and the day seemed to be shaping up to be beautiful [I seem to really like this adjective]. Then reaching the top I was itching to see the rice terraces, have to admit I was absolutely stunned. The patties were green, lush, the sun was bright and I got some amazing pictures. There were even some people working. Walked through the school compound, got barked at by a lot of dogs (I swear Cordillera dogs are scary!) and some of the houses. Said hit to some folks, some didn't really speak tagalog, but in teh school I could hear the children practicing English. On the way back talked to a farmer with a big knife about palay and other tourists. Very friendly. Decided to walk down, didn't see a jeep either way, I guess I made a good decision. Beautiful, calming walk.

Afer some horrible bipsteyk [beefsteak] I decided to relax until the Bontoc museum opened. The museum was pretty cool though run down. Some [can't read this word]: the live pig in the recreated village and the terrifying section of "beheading". I literally had chills run down my spine seeing pictures of heads placed next tot he knives used to behead people. I walked around for a bit around town, it seemed like a depressed area, full of unfinished projects. Also unlike the friendliness of Sagadaeans who would stare and nod or just ignore you, Bontoc residents seemed to carry a look of resentment. I say this of the men especially. There seemed to be tons on standby. Most were drinking or chewing/spitting red tobacco [at the time I couldn't remember what this was called, it's called betel nut]. Perhaps they were getting a headstart on the 11pm curfew. Really tired, I decided to try and watch the Olympics for the rest of the night. Satellite cuts in and out and I hear the rain falling heavily outside. I hope for it to end as I'm worried about having to travel through muddy cliff roads.

The next morning August 14th, headed off to catch the bus to Baguio. While waiting I finished up This Earth of Mankind and the ending lingered and haunted for the whole day. [undecipherable]
As for the road, we were blocked just past Sagada. There was a landslide (I could onlyl guess a result of the rains from the previous night). I twas pretty crazy, they dynamited the pile a bunch of times. It wasn't until a tractor showed up that progress was finally made. After a couple hours we were on our way. The trip was slow however as fog and rain thankfully made our driver more cautious. We finallyu made it to Baguio and I ate at the Cafe by the Ruins. Had their Crispy Tapa and Suman with chocolate carbou millk. Cunny enough named Rizal. Perhaps it's just from Rizal. Still...

Caught the bus to Vigan. The driver kept showing scary movies. Starting with Rogue, then the American version of the Grudge until a horrible movie [they were all pretty horrible actually] called The Cry. It just gradually got worse in terms of quality and tellingly crresponnding with the budget. I have to admit though, the movies's constant images mof violence forced me to take a trike upon reaching Vigan. Quickly I was ripped off by the trike (50p! for what was surely less than 3km. Rediculous.) Anyway mty mood quickly shifted after getting aroom at the Gordian Inn. The inside was amazing. An old mansion converted. On the cheap to boot! The room was large, beds were wood, the furniture and the door as well. The bathroom had a nice hot shower. And the TV had 30+ channels...AWESOME. I fell asleep to the Olympics. Woke up early, got lost immediately. It might have been the Ilocano longganisa I had. It's true ti had much less fat. But it also lacked the sweetness/tanginess that I enjoy from other longganisa. The suka was nice however. Finally hopped on a bus to Santa Maria to look at the church. When I arrived there apparently was a pilgrimage going on and there were tons of people. Overflowing the church grounds were plenty people selling food, relgious items and random other things. It was a nice trip and I'm glad I got to witness it but I desired to get back to Vigan asap.

When I arrived I walked around and visited the church and the several plazas. I then visited the Burgos museum. It was run down and seemed to be decomposing, but it added to the reality of the Mestizo district outside. In a strange way the district turned my head inside out. It seemed to smash all these different temporal moments into this cramped, decaying, confusing, and beautiful space. Soon I was off to cora's botanical secret garden. It was a strange experience (talk about it later). Tried the empanada and Basi. Afterward took a walk to San Vicente to look at the church. The twon was pretty much deserted and so was the church. Still it was probablly one of my more favorite moments of this trip. Night came soon and the city lit up. The nigh was hot and the men lifted up their shirts to expose their bellies. Had dinner outside, tried the banggat. It was just like lechon. Just not as salty (I notice a trend). The mestizo district was amazing. It made me wistful for an era I never lived through. I can just imagine how one could easily wander the night away at the turn of the century, viting family, and friends, wasting the nigh away to the sound of horse hooves against the cobllestone. I went to sleep thinking of spirits, the past filling in my lungs. Woke up with a sore throat, I think the week of traveling finally caught up with me.

Tried to sleep in and cheat the Partas bus line and jump in from the highway. Was mildly successful. I was able to hop on a different bus to laoag (not Partas as I had planned) but it worked out okay. Checked in immediately. A lot less character than Vigan B & B and definitely less space. Alghough if you're American it defintely is a familiar form of motel/hotel. Headed out to see the body of Marcos in Batac. Before I headed there stopped by the brand new (1999) Museum of Ilocos Norte. In Batac Marcos's Mausoleum was closed for lunch. Chatted with a few locals that just hung outside the door, apparently self-appointed guides. Informed me about some other "must see" local places. All these places of course I already knew about, but I played dumb just to be polite. He pretty much tried to hustle me with a "friend" of his who owns a tricycle. Saying that no jeeps go to the towns I wanted to visit and if I wanted to get there it would cost me up to 400+ for the whole day. After walking through the creepy Marcos mausoleum (it looked totally fake). I said I'd think about it. Walked to the center of the town and was able to grab a trike for about 50 pesos. Ah the Philippines. Overall I was feeling kinda crummy today, and it occurred to me that most of what's interesting about Laoag remained outside of Laoag. But since I was definitely getting a cold, a lot of my excusions were much limited in scope. Still I was able to head out to the beach (ever so briefly) and see the ocean which I sorely miss. Got caught in a downpour while riding outside of a trike. Quite a ride! Now just enjoying the cable TV.

Some things for later (after the travels outside of the city):

1. Ninoy's assassination and the city's celebration
2. Riding the MRT/LRT
3. Conversations at Magnet and afterward (also meeting Kidlat Tahimik!)
4. Waiting for a home.


civilization?

Camp John Hayes


strange totem pole

me posing by a plant

by a bed

more posing

some of my faves from the cemetary of negative thought

my life in a nutshell

apt for the academic isn't it?

"Think GOD, not drugs"

punk and metal for sale at Baguio!

Burnham park

kids skate here.

Night palengke

hanging coffins in Sagada

me hangin' out with the hangin' coffins

from a great height



little falls in Sagada

the foggy dusk

Malagcong

Overjoyed!



palay




ready?


real live pig in the "Igorot Village" at the Bontoc museum

glancing across the chico. I crossed that bridge below. scary.

there might have been a dwende

the chico

landslide! And no, not the kind involving Stevie Nicks

My b&b in Vigan





outside Santa Maria church

Santa Maria church, throngs of people

down the steps of Santa Maria...it seems to lead to another world

Mestizo district



a shot of basi (sugar cane wine)
it tastes like vinegar

Ilocano style empanada


The Burgos House, where he was born

The provincial jail. Also where Former President Quirino was born (his father was the Warden)

Church of San Vicente



Vigan at night









Marcos Mausoleum in Batac

front of marcos

St. Augustine Church in Paoay

Fort Ilocandia Beach