A trip to Hungduan, Ifugao

The timing was impeccable: the Techies sorely needed an outlet, and Vlad have just the right answer at the right moment.

The Save the Ifugao Terraces Movement (SitMo) isn't your typical vacation tour program. It has an advocacy, and it didn’t take long for us to decide that here’s something worth roughing it up with nature over the weekend.

And so the six of us Techies, with four of our friends, signed up for the February 9-10 Tunod ad Hungduan tour in Hapao, Hungduan, Ifugao.

We met with the rest of the Tunod participants at the Autobus terminal along Espana Avenue, Manila in Friday, 9pm. There were over 50 of us, consisting of bank employees, staffs of political institutions, a family, media practitioners, college students, their teachers, private persons, and (ehem) social research specialists.

A very diverse group, I must say, which became more lively when a separate group from Baguio later on merged with us in Banaue.

Autobus number 702 left the Manila terminal at around 10pm. This bus has one of the coldest airconditioning I've ever experienced. (I discovered later that provincial buses like this one has a separate engine for its airconditioning. This must explain why the main engine had no problem negotiating the uphill drive even when the aircon is at full blast.)

Throughout the 8-hour trip, amid chattering teeth, I wondered to no end why the bus’ thermostat had to be so cold. I realized the wisdom of it all when we got off at Banaue – the ultra-cold aircon helped acclimatize my body to the temperature of Ifugao.

Brilliant.

The instant coffee, longganisa, scrambled egg, and native Ipugo rice served at the Halfway Lodge and Restaurant in Banaue tasted so good. We were given a few minutes to rest and freshen up before the two-hour trip to the municipality of Hungduan, so I had my first taste of Ifugao cold shower (there’s a heater, but I doubt if it’s working at all then).

Before leaving Halfway Lodge, the SitMo team gave a general briefing about the entire tour, divided the participants into smaller tour groups, and gave tips on moving along the terraces’ dikes, some of which reach up to five-storeys high.

I found the last one very useful -- my life would later on depend on it.

Vlad, Ahmed, Mike and I wanted to ride on the jeepney rooftop not because we were being pasaway, but only because the jeepney was already crowded inside. The hopes of enjoying the cool air and scenery were just secondary.

We ended up riding with one of the SitMo coordinators, Charles, in the SitMo Fuego pick-up truck. We had a few shots of vodka along the way. As courtesy we offered Charles a shot of vodka, which of course he cheerfully declined. Like most men in Ifugao, he is more than happy chewing his betel nut and lime powder wrapped in a kind of leaf (I forgot what it is called).

We were treated to a lunch that featured the best of native Ifugao-style cooking at Barangay Hapao, Hungduan. The Vice-Mayor of Hungduan was also there to welcome the participants.

I'm usually not fond of pork and chicken, but I enjoyed the food throughout the two-day tour-visit, even if it was a bit monotonous (mainly chicken and pork always cooked in the same traditional way). Sunday morning breakfast was the only time we had fish, and I was appreciative of this because fish, even the tuyo (dried fish), gets very expensive this far up the mountains.

After lunch, we changed to our planting attire and set off to our designated rice paddy in the terraces.

We then learned the true meaning of the song, "Magtanim ay 'di biro." For hours we transplanted the rice seedlings under the guidance and assistance of local farmers and their children. We then took a dip at the nearby river to wash off.

Our planting was far from perfect -- the lines were crooked, the spaces uneven, and several times throughout the whole process we trapped each other by planting around ourselves. Crazy.

But we're proud of our rice paddy, and everyone was hoping the seedlings would survive, however crude our handiwork.

That night, the SitMo coordinators, in cooperation with the Hapao cultural dance troupe and Hapao elementary school students, treated us to an evening of cultural shows. They showed us how to wear the traditional Ifugao garments and the basics of Ifugao planting ritual dance.

The evening became especially memorable for me because this was where I lost my wedding ring (my numb finger never felt it come off). The missing wedding ring incident briefly turned into a lively topic of conversation between our tour coordinators and me. “How are you going to tell your wife about this?” was their favorite question. Haha!

As of blog time, the SitMo team still have no updates about my missing wedding ring.

Sigh.

We stayed at a local house that also doubles as an eatery and sari-sari store. Homestays such as this one are really practical for visitors, either for overnight or long-term accommodation.

On Sunday morning we had an hour-long hike to the hot springs of Barangay Hapao. The route consists mainly of narrow footpaths and dikes across vast rice paddies. Some of these dikes have a vertical drop of over five storeys high.

Now, here’s where my problem began.

Since day one, I had no difficulty walking along these dikes, though at some point, due to fatigue, I get a bit disoriented when the dike reaches a certain height. I calculated that my fear of heights gets triggered when the vertical drop exceeds three storeys high.

I was doing just fine that morning, walking past one dike after the other with minimal concern by focusing my attention on the scenery and talking to the nearest person.

My glitch began when we reached what I believe is the highest and most ill-constructed (because the stone steps are too narrow and loosely packed, unlike the photo shown at the left) dike we encountered. About a fourth way along this dike, Lynn slipped and fell knee-deep into the rice paddy, the other side of which would be the five-storey high drop. It took a while for Aileen and Mike to help her regain footing, but by the time the three of them proceeded along the dike, I was already stiff with fear.

It was the worst time for my fear to kick in – I was barely halfway along the dike, with still about twenty meters of narrow and loose stone steps ahead. My group had already moved on, I was left alone along the dike, with the other group lagging far behind. My balance was so messed-up and my knees so weak I could hardly stand. When I stood up, I couldn’t take more than two steps without falling into the rice paddy.

So I had no choice but to wade through the rice paddy to get across that darn dike. (I am so sorry for all the rice seedlings I stepped on. I hope the farmers could still fix them).

The hot spring was a soothing balm to my wracked nerves and punctured pride -- I never thought my fear of heights could be so debilitating. I saw later that there’s another visitor who fell victim to that treacherous dike – she showed up at the hot spring with her short pants partly-covered in mud. Mercifully, we don’t have to pass that darn dike when we go back to base.

But still, some of the dikes are way too high for my comfort, and despite the relaxing time at the hot springs, I couldn’t regain the confidence and frame of mind I had before. I tried every tip I heard during the pre-tour briefing: "...put your weight away from the drop side, look five steps ahead, don’t look at your feet, and, most of all, never look down..." Our guide Nancy kept poking fun at the way I tense up and wobble every time we pass by a sheer drop, but she was kind enough to keep on talking to distract me from freezing in fear.

I was thanking the high heavens when we finally cleared the dikes and reached solid mountain grounds.

The entire group paid a courtesy visit to the Hungduan Municipal Hall, where we had our lunch and were awarded a certificate for participating in SitMo.

On our way home, the aircon of Autobus number 702 didn’t feel as cold it was before. It must be the effect of the rice wine we had along the way. Got home at 3 a.m., Monday.

I’ll tell Joan about the wedding ring when she wakes up. I’m just glad I’m home.

***

Mic uploaded some of his snapshots of this trip (Tunod ad Hungduan Tour February 9-10, 2008 (mic), so did our trigger-happy co-participants Mai (tunod ad hungduan, hapao, hungduan ifugao) and Che (Tunod Ad Hungduan 2008). The Tunod 2008 Yahoogroup also has select photos here.

Lovely photos, guys.

***

I got sick after our Ifugao adventure, and spent most of the day watching the Senate hearing of the NBN-ZTE controversy on TV. The investigation has taken more interest on the alleged "kidnapping" of Rodolfo Lozada, Jr., the star witness of the investigation.

At one point, the Senate President raised his resentment with what he thought was an anti-Senate stance of the police, and even that of the witness', as manifested by his utter fear of testifying before the Senate.

The Senate President assured everyone in the chamber and the televiewers that the Senate doesn't mean anyone harm. "Hindi kami mamamatay-tao," he says.

Okay, so the Senate is not into killing anyone who testifies. But looking at Engr. Lozada, crying on national TV, I wonder what will be left of him and his family after this is all over.

I pray for him and his family.

***

Happy Valentine to all!