Sunday, July 5, 2015

Sagada, Bontoc, and Banaue (Philippines)

We had contracted the country music van to pick us up a couple of days later. With no sign of the driver, and several hours of trying to frantically reach him on his cell, our guide decided we should just jump on the public jeepney before it left Sagada, rather than miss our chain of connections that culminated in a flight. We'd been enjoying another roof top ride for about a half hour when the jeepney stopped to drop off some folks. A man approached the vehicle, calling out and looking up and down at the passengers. Wait, is that the van driver? Sure enough, it was. He made some half-hearted excuses about the traffic - none of which we had noticed on the road - and a bad cell battery. After leaving us hanging, our guide and we were more than a little annoyed with his unreliability. But he had our deposit, was exchanging money with the jeepney driver for our fares, and was delaying everyone with his protestations, so we reluctantly re-joined him in country musicland.

We made a pit stop in Bontoc. The capital of the Mountain Province has a small museum on the indigenous people of the Cordilleras. There were rice god statues, pictures of the various tribes and colonial officials throughout history, and examples of traditional tools and textiles on display. Outside, there were replicas of typical structures of Cordilleras villages, including single sex dormitory houses, a pig pen with a native pig (more like a boar), and a stone circle where tribal elders would meet. The gift shop, which doubled tripled as a library and art gallery, was manned by a nun in a habit. This ticked the box for one of Rich's all-time favorite sights: nuns doing normal things!

Back on the road toward Banaue, the heavens opened and unleashed monsoon rains. Though I was a little worried for the road conditions, it didn't actually seem to be that bad, and we were puttering along nicely... until our genius driver decided he wanted to aggressively overtake a vehicle by plowing through a flooded section of road on a mountain turn. Then came the inevitable sputtering, and the engine died. There was a moment as we were coasting speedily and steeply downhill that I thought, "Oh, God, I hope the brakes still work." But we came to a stop. The driver kept trying to re-start, but no dice, the ignition would have to dry out. We were only about 30 minutes drive outside Banaue. Too far to walk with our packs and still make it to the overnight bus on time. The driver tried his miraculously now working cell phone but couldn't raise any one. Our guide tried his contacts in town, but the other drivers he knew were out. The only option was hitchhiking. A few trucks were interested enough to stop, but wouldn't take us on. Finally, our guide convinced a couple of guys driving in what could be charitably described as a mini-Jeep, or more realistically, an all-terrain golf cart!? The four of us and our packs crammed in the back with the spare tire, spool of rope, and sharp metal tools there. Our poor guide was stuck on the fabric roof in the rain with each bump convincing Rich it would rip and land the guy on our heads. I could just about read a short prayer painted on the passenger side, appealing to God for a safe trip home. As we knocked about into each other, hunched over and losing all feeling in our tangled legs, I couldn't help but appreciate the sentiment. We made it to Banaue, but what an adventure!  

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Philippines

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