After spending two days in Kalinga, a remote village in the mountains of the Philippines, watching Wang-Od (the oldest known tatoo artist) hammer her ash covered thorn into the flesh of other travelers, Marius and I decided to descend the mountain path. The slope was steep but the farewell was steeper. With a heavy heart and thoughts of a distant time when I would be able to return and witness such a wealth of talent and experience, we began the descent. As we ambled along, swamped in a sea of green, the sun beat down its humid rays.
A while after setting off, the sun began its descent towards another magnificent Asian sunset, one of many I had gazed at open mouthed over the last three months. As yellow flowed to orange, and orange bled to crimson, my mind was blank as to why we set off at the time we did. So embedded was I in the landscape that my human reasons for being on time had been lost in nature’s greater beauty. What was it again? OH! The last jeepney! That’s why we are walking, to catch the last hope of reaching anything remotely soft to lay our heads. A patch of grass would do if it came to it, but I didn’t walk this far for nothing.
We reached the three-quarter mark between Kalinga and the outpost, where the bus had dropped us in the first place, but decided it was too late to catch anything but mosquito bites this far up the mountain. We ambled on, unsure where we would reach or when we would reach it. Its not all bad, wandering in paradise.
When we finally made the outpost, we remained optimistic that we were going to get some transport back, and found a spot to sit a wait. Lo and behold! A jeepney arrived! Unfortunately, the jeepney hurtled past us with a cheery wave from the driver. That’s it then, we sleep here. As we got up to start looking for a bed, a huge bus grappled and groaned it’s way up the hill, dragging its old wheels behind it. We tried to flag it down, but as it drew closer and we scouted for a place to sit, our hope flickered like the tired headlamps. Not an inch of this bus was available to sit on. Even the roof was piled high with chickens, children, buckets and blankets. You name it, and they had it squeezed on this bus. The sight more than made up for the disappointment of not getting a ride. Again we began looking for a bed.
A little way down the road, we saw a pick-up truck slinking around the mountain. Instantaneously, two left arms rose in unison, a plea for onward travel sailing towards the driver. He stopped. We asked where he was going. “Banaue.” BANAUE! It is a great feeling to have all stress and worry sucked out of every tired fibre of your body in an instant. It’s like tiny mountain streams percolating through your veins, spreading from the base of your neck, down to your grubby toes. I jumped onto the back of the truck. Had I looked at the sky at that moment, I would have seen a group of guardian angels giggling. On the back of the truck was a pile of straw covered in a tarp, big enough for two. Ultimate luxury.
Homeward we went. stretched out on our chariot, lounging like emperors (minus the grapes and the toga). Eyes flicking between steep cliffs and rocky ravines, small rivers down in the valleys carved our path to a restful night. The mountains in the north of the Philippines are stunning. We had been driving for an hour when our truck slowed and the driver started laughing. Rains the night before had caused a massive rockslide. The mountains had spread their feet just a little bit further and stepped on the road. Workmen had been smoothing the stones into a ramp all day, but the jeepney that had passed us earlier didn’t have enough gusto to climb the steep incline. I jumped out the truck and ran to the back, joining the workmen pushing the truck up the slope. An extra inch of throttle was found and feet were dug in, then finally she was up and over. Back on the truck, we passed the jeepney letting people back on. I gave the driver a smile and a wave and got a knowing wink in return.
We reached Banaue just after dark, said many ‘thank-you-very-muches’ to the lovely driver and drifted up to our warm, comfy beds and beyond…
Kalinga to Banaue – A Smile and a Wave by Alex North Rule 07/09/2014
Picture: I’m in the middle with the white hat on.
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