Into the Unknown

There we were sitting outside the guesthouse in the darkness of early morning (5 am) waiting for our hiking guide. We knew our end destination but weren't sure exactly how we were getting there. The route that we had suggested to the towns tourism planner wasn't satisfactory so we had a new way and a new adventure. Our guide was almost on time and was announced by a chorus of dogs yapping at him. Just like that we were on our way through the town and then started our ascent. We were climbing through the rice terraces for what seemed like only a moment and then we slipped into the cover of forest. The trail was wide and steep and we just simply hiked with an occasional break for pictures. We just climbed higher and higher leaving behind the highway and the town. Along the way our guide showed us wild blueberries and strawberries along the path which were incredibly small but delicious. At 9 am we summited a 9000 foot mountain and seemed to be making great time. We enjoyed a late breakfast/early lunch at tv station satellite and then started on our way again. Our guide pointed out were we were going from the summit and it looked close enough. As soon as we started climbing down the other side things became quite different. The trail narrowed and brush covered parts of the trail. Then things started to get very steep and the wet, muddy ground provided no traction so we spent a lot of time slipping and falling. It didn't take long for every step to become a planned action and to feel fatigue. Every time we stopped for a water break the guide would say three more hours, two more hours and so on. We were spending a lot of time in the woods but just weren't going anywhere. Everytime I looked up from the trail all I could see was the thick forest. Our six inch wide trail was the only sign of humans. After some more falling we came to cleared area near a river and took a break to consume some chocolate and cool off. Our break ended but our walking continued. It didn't take long and we were walking through rice terraces and looking at houses. The little village was going to be our resting place for the night. Our guide led us to a little stone courtyard with two houses. One house was built from wood and with a sheet metal roof and the other one was made from grasses and wood. We sat down in the courtyard and yanked off our boots and took a nice relaxing sit. There were a couple of kids running around and the mom off the house tending to some chores. The village was incredibly quiet probably since it lacked electricity and roads. No videoke, cars, tricycles, tv! The only loud sound was the mom of the house hand pounding the husks off the rice. The kids started coming home from school and then the dad of the house showed up. There were a group of five or six guys with them and it was time to drink rice wine. The dad of the house went to the house and got a large vase/pitcher of home brewed rice wine. He put a wooden bowl on the ground and then placed a smaller wooden bowl inside of it. The rice wine was poured into the small bowl only and it overflowed into the larger bowl until both of them were full. Then they all took turns using the small bowl as a cup to get a drink. I was given a mug and was a little hesitant to try it since most things labeled "wine" here are hard liquor but I went for it anyways. The flavor was surprisingly good and tasted more like a wine than liquor. The rice was scooped out of the bottom of the pitcher and placed on a plate. The kids were the first ones to eat the rice and then the adults. We ate our dinner afterwards and then headed to bed. We were only laying down for about five minutes when we heard gongs and our guide came and got us. We went downstairs and watched the men take different turns playing the gongs. It's a tradition that they have to help the rice grow. So we watched different men taking turns playing the gongs in front of fire. I can imagine that everyone in the valley heard the gongs being played. We stayed up as long as we could but went to bed before everyone else. We slept on the floor of their house and woke up early the next morning to the mother doing chores and the dad preparing to hike to town. We were once again on the trail which was small, steep and overgrown. We spent the first part of the day hiking uphill and the second part hiking downhill. We were by ourselves again for most of the day until we came upon a small town where we bought some lunch. The ladies that owned the restaurant told us that we couldn't pass on the trail because they were blasting for a highway above the trail. After being there for ten minutes we heard the blast and saw the debris rolling down the hillside. After we ate our lunch we decided to try to make a pass on the trail because the dynamiters were eating lunch daw (we were told this). So we started walking briskly for the exit. We arrived at the spot where the blasting was going on and it looked much more dangerous for one foot away than a couple thousand feet away. Our guide lead us through boulders, dirt, and downed trees. I kept waiting to hear the blast but we made it through without a problem. The trail continued for another hour and then we reached our destination. We went for the closest guesthouse took a nice shower and ate a hot meal.

Ninang and Ninong Kami!

It's official. We've been integrated a step further into the culture of the Catholic Filipino and joined the thousands who are proudly called ninang or ninong (apparantly us being non-Catholic is not an issue is acquiring this responsibility). This is a picture of Gian our 7 month old goddaughter to whom we are now happily committed for the next eighteen years (and beyond?). Before the Baptism the sponsors, a.k.a. us, promised to do some things for the child. Unfortunately the priest spoke quickly in Tagalog and we aren't positive about what we committed to, but we will be sure to do our best to be exceptional godparents. We do know some of our roles as ninang and ninong. According to my students the most important one is to give Gian gifts for all major (and minor) holidays and assist her with all the needs of the standard Filipino child. School fees, Girl Scout registration fee, School blessing donations, Graduation fees and others.

Ate (older sister) Guiliana, Sir Cueto (My Supervisor), Gian, Ms. Cueto, Ninang and Ninong


Baptism Day coincided with town fiesta and no fiesta is complete without a marching band to perform pop songs after the priest gives his message. This group kept playing for hours even though it was in the 90s and the hottest part of the day. I felt guilty as I recalled complaining about the few kilometers we marched at the dairy festival in much cooler Vermont where we were accompanied by bunches of moms with icey water bottles and little pre-packaged snacks.
Of course the other element of fiesta, and baptisms, is free food at the family's home. Anyone is welcome to join and there is seemingly unlimited supplies of different ulams (main dishes), rice and various jello-ish desserts.

This kid is relaxing in a duyan (hammock) after his big fiesta meal and playing with a june bug he has tied to a string, a favorite game of many Filipino youngsters.