Handshake with my roots
A two-week journey in the Cordilleras
“Bold flavor. Smooth taste.”
I read the slogan while glancing fondly at Mount Arayat. Eight years ago, I was in this airport, staring into the same giant, thinking, I am a giant myself. I was full of zeal. Conceit, actually. Being promoted as a project manager in a 50-hectare subdivision in just six months into employment, I mean, I could not keep my head low. But today, I sit here, reminding myself that things do not really turn out as you thought it would be, and to me, it always turns out better. I may not be the sharpest looking engineer you will find. Right now, I am dressed up almost similar to farmers: muddy boots, light and soft denim pants rolled up to the shin, and an over-sized long sleeved plain shirt.
Let’s go back two months ago. I was reluctant about focusing my research on farmers or agriculture and I thought I would be more useful looking into shelter recovery.
Let’s fast forward to two weeks ago. I decided to go on with agricultural infrastructure as my research context, thinking that the farmers in the Philippines need attention. Moreover, the Cordilleras are full of indigenous farmers whose image in my head is quite mixed up. I still imagine them to be in their bahags. Bahag is the garment most commonly used by the Filipinos before the Spanish colonization, or shall we say, before we were even called Filipinos. I am aware that many of the IPs are well-educated, modernized, and dressed up just the same as me. I was curious to know what makes them indigenous. I also wanted to know how they are able to stick to their culture while riding along with progress and modernization. I wanted to know if their strong culture helped them become resilient to the nature-induced disasters. So I boarded the plane to Clark, the nearest airport from Benguet. I chose Benguet because that is where Baguio City is, the city that is 1400 meters above sea level. It is a strategic location for me that enables me to reach the farms, but still go back to the city to get good internet connection and find adequate supplies that I needed for the journey. I went with a suitcase full of candies, tote bags, and plantable pencils as giveaways to my respondents.

An unexpected nostalgia attack happened right before the plane landed on Clark. I saw the first subdivision where I worked in, and all the flashbacks kept coming to the point that they battered me. The image of the open basketball court and the purple-and-yellow Spalding ball bouncing off my fingertips is just so vivid.
The second sight was the 50-hectare subdivision: finally, it pierced my heart. For a reason so difficult to explain, it tore me… again. Everything just reminded me of love, passion, and promise, all in the past, gone, and broken.

Then there was the long bus ride to Baguio. I was happy to have sucked in the chilly air through my nose. My unforgettable moment was, of course, the long inclined walks up and down the streets of the city. I have booked a stay with my friend’s grandmother who is already 70 years old. Despite the age, she looked young and very strong. I call her Tita Ella (Aunt Ella). I am supposed to call her Lola (Grandma) but I just started calling her Tita anyway.
Day 1.
So I’m off to La Trinidad. Although I have sent an e-mail to the mayor early on, I never got a response. So I gave it a shot and popped into the Municipality Hall. I first went to the Department of Agricultural Office. Surprisingly, their office did all the work for me to get a permit to study in their municipality. For a government agency, it was my first time to have actually accomplished a complete task in less than two hours. I got to shake the hand of the municipal mayor. I also got a dose of a big push from the people in their office. People were excited to see the results of my work.
Day 2.
Ifugao, here I come!
Before I proceeded with Benguet, I scouted another area in Ifugao. I woke up before 5:00 am. I was surprised to see a plated breakfast on Tita Ella’s dining table with a note that said “Linnel, please have your breakfast before you leave”. I would be travelling to Ifugao for 4 hours, and will be there for 5 days.
Now, I have arranged a meeting with the wonderful people at Ifugao State University. I even got to stay in the uni’s dorm. It was already late in the afternoon when I arrived there, so I decided to start scouting the next day. Instead, I went around the university. There is an amazing office of theirs that is named Globally Important Agricultural Heritage Systems (GIAHS). Again, I felt so fortunate to be welcomed in the beautiful place of Ifugao.

Day 3.
GIAHS provided me a guide, who has become a friend, to accompany me wherever I went. Her name is Nalyn and she is a BS Tourism graduate and she has a knack for representing her tribe pretty well.
It was my first time to see the Baleh — the native Ifugao house. It amused me so much that I started drafting a technical review on the structural capacity of the Baleh. (November 4, 2019 — the review still remains a draft).

We went up to a barangay that is way up in the mountains. I remember seeing the fog slowly hovering towards us, until eventually, a heavy downpour started. We even feared not being able to go back to the campus due to the lack of public transportation. We found out that they do not have any public transportation after 12 pm. Eventually, we managed to get two motorcycle riders to drive us back to town.









Day 4.
We went off to Kiangan, a municipality that is filled with rice terraces. I thought this would be the best place to spot rice farmers. I have been warned that the Ifugaos are so busy; too busy to sit down and respond to my interview questions. I challenged them that it will not put me off. I will go to their farms and plant with them. Some laughed and sang a part of a song
“magtanim ay ‘di biro, maghapong nakayuko, hindi man lang makaupo, hindi man lang makatayo”. In English, it means “planting is not a joke, stooped all afternoon, you can’t even sit, you can’t even stand”.
I prepared myself mentally for such a challenge. We waited for the municipality mayor to arrive and hang around to see if we could go near him and make a courtesy call. A local told me that the Yamashita Shrine was just a few minutes of walk from the municipality hall. So at lunch time, we decided to walk up to the shrine. On our way there, we did a quick Tuwali 101. Tuwali is the language that they speak in Kiangan.
After the brief tour in and around the shrine, we went back to hunt the mayor. We succeeded and we got to sit down with him on a wooden bench outside of a covered basketball court that was playing loud music. It was actually his last day as a mayor as he lost the mayoral elections in Summer. Nalyn expressed her admiration for the Mayor, and the moment that I got to look into his eyes, I realized that she was right. He is attractive. He has the typical Filipino facial features. It is hard for me to describe but I just see it when I see it.
Anyway, he told us to check with the National Commission of Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) before we proceed to the farms of his people. Ifugao is a province full of indigenous people. Even Nalyn identifies herself as indigenous. The NCIP basically protects the indigenous people from potential harm caused by external influences, such as businessmen, project developers, and researchers. The reason why researchers also need to undergo their approval process is that they protect the IPs’ intellectual rights as well. We went to the NCIP office and there the officers discussed about the potential cost and time implication when I decide to pursue studying the rice farmers in Ifugao.
Bummer.
Day 5.
I called my advisor and told her about the bump that I ran into. We then decided to withdraw from the Ifugao area, as we still had Benguet where the area was more open. I mean I already had a permit there, wet-signed by the mayor himself, allowing me to go to any farm that I want within Benguet, so…
I scheduled a trip back to Benguet in the afternoon. While waiting for my bus, I decided to go back to Kiangan and explore the rice terraces for once. People would spare their VLs (vacation leave) just to come to this area and take photos of the beautiful landscapes. I could not go home without seeing it. Kiangan is one of the areas that the GIAHS is protecting and promoting nowadays. The Banaue Rice Terraces is the more famous neighboring rice paddies and is fondly called the eighth wonder of the world. I don’t know if someone has to actually verify that but I am pretty happy that we have such a historic and powerful man-made landscape.

Day 6.
Ahhh Benguet. It’s cold. It’s foggy. It’s beautiful. You know that moment when you notice the difference between riding a jeepney in the lowlands versus the highlands? When you are down in the city, you dread the thought of the jeepney stopping at a traffic jam because that’s the time that the breeze disappears and the heat from the other vehicles’ engines just smother your face. You could feel the smoky, dusty, and humid air pass through the windows of the jeepney. Here in the highlands, when the jeepney stops, you could feel the cool air come into the jeepney and just wipe your face cool. Day 6 is a Saturday. It’s the perfect time to take a break and just explore Baguio City. I took the time to print out my informed consent forms and spent the rest of the day walking around to learn the jeepney routes and places where I can buy cheap food. At 6 PM I attended a mass service then headed to Tita Ella’s peaceful home.


Day 7.
Sunday. I heard that there are some farmers who hang out in the trading posts to do their transactions. I took a couple of jeepneys and finally got to the trading post. It was a few meters away from the famous tourist spot, Strawberry Farm — a wide part of the La Trinidad valley which is monitored by the Department of Agriculture and Benguet State University. It was still the month of June. Some city people still tried to make the most of their summer vacations and visit Strawberry Farm to pick strawberries. As I was walking past the Strawberry Farm, I saw two men on their tricycles, selling strawberry ice cream. It was 18 degrees Celsius out, which is too cold for a typical Filipino, but there they were, selling ice cream at 7 o’clock in the morning.
Finally, I got to the trading post. It was called Benguet Agri-Pinoy Trading Center (BAPTC). I have heard people call it “Agri-Pinoy”. It was a huge facility. It had more than eight buildings. 4 of them are in the center where most of the farmers and traders meet. Each building has about 20 loading bays.
It is a fast-paced environment. All the farmers are in a hurry. They unload the produce into the bays or the middle men/wholesalers’ trucks fast. Nobody wanted to slow down to have a chat with me. I tried to invite some for snacks or lunch after their transactions but they all wanted to go back home right after their transactions.
I have been told that most of them come from the farther and higher parts of the Cordilleras. It has got to be a tiring day for them, travelling for about 3 to 4 hours to get to BAPTC and then unload a truckful of produce, then drive back to the mountains.
Finally, a cargo boy has entertained me. He said that he has a cousin who is also a farmer and is just hanging out in his truck while waiting for his middle man. So he ushered me to the truck. There I met a young man, chewing momma (read as mu-MA, that’s right the stress is on the second syllable). Momma, by the way is Betel Nut which is an alternative to smoking. I should have written about this on Day 1. The first time I set foot on Benguet, I have seen signs that say “no spitting of momma” and I did not understand what it meant. I thought it sounded funny because how can you spit out your mom, right? Also, I saw some men who have really beautiful and bright red lips. I thought that Cordillerans have very nice lips. But then I also saw some random red blots on pavements. They looked like blood splatters and they did gross me out. Little did I know that those observations were results of betel nut chewing. The red blots on the pavements were chewed betel nuts.
to be continued…
The next sections will contain:







