Sad Banaue

We learned that Banaue is about a two-hour drive from Sagada, so we decided to go. Our butts were sore from travel all the way to Sagada, anyway, what's another two hours to see one of the wonders of the world, the BanaueRice Terraces? We were taught that long before, that in the Philippines, we have a 'wonder'. 

En route to Banaue, we dropped by a view deck in Bontoc, to take shots of the terraces which already presented themselves as prelude to 'the terraces' in Banaue. The view was nice, but I was disturbed by the residential houses erected below the terraces. Still, the view was nice. The restrooms are clean by the viewdeck, surprisingly so, since many travellers stop there to answer the call of nature. Going farther Bontoc, we stopped by another view deck, a pocket garden of some sort, where we felt we were near the heavens. The sight of the clouds so near, nesting on the mountaintops, with the wind across our faces, lovely.

Off we went for another hour or so of road trip to Banaue. The roads from Sagada-Bontoc-Banaue are good. No need for a four-wheel-drive to ply the route. There are parts of the mountains alongside the roads, however, which looked like it would erode if preventive measures are not taken, especially with the onset of the rainy season. 

We arrived at the center of Banaue, after straining our necks from searching for the terraces. One of our colleagues said, we would have a good vantage point from the People's Lodge, so we looked for the lodge. Locating the lodge was not difficult, the center of Banaue is small, cramped, with narrow, dirty streets. And the lodge seemed like it was the only decent place there. We noted that garbage is strewn on corners of the streets we were walking on. We proceeded to the lodge, expecting a marvelous view of the terraces from its veranda, (it advertised that way), only to be met by smokers positioned there, not looking at the terraces at all. One would surmise upon looking at the view, where are the terraces? We looked, again hoping to take nice pictures, but the terraces were, well, disappointing, an understatement. The pictures I saw of it when I was younger were far cry from what was before my eyes. Not lush, but the signs of summer heat were already showing. The terraces were not pronounced, we needed to really look for them to 'see'. 

To assuage our frustration, we ordered an egg sandwich, which had no mayonnaise; and plates of rice and pork liempo which were disastrous;  and chicken and fries which looked and tasted like the whole bottle of cooking oil was used to fry them. The waitress who took and served our orders did not smile. She was stoic up until we paid and left. The restaurant had a smelly dog propped at its entrance, and a common restroom at the back, also smelly, with no running water. 

We left, still praying to head to a good vantage point and view the rice terraces. We did, at one souvenir shop which was manned by no one. An old, kind-looking man in full native costume was seated on a ledge with a good view of the rice terraces at his background. We asked if we could take pictures with him in Ilocano, which we assumed he understood because he posed with us. He also knew what a 'selfie' was and gladly pushed his face to fit in the phone screen for the shot, with a cute smile. He asked for a donation after, which we were all too happy to give. We saw his teeth were red in color as he smiled,  and we knew that it was from the betel nut that the natives chewed as a habit, much like my cigarettes. But we were quite surprised that even the kids were chewing the stuff. Everyone we passed by was chewing. We were absolutely sure it was not gum they were chewing.

We took shots of the wooden bikes they had displayed by the 'abandoned' shop, which my colleague said would only work when it is used descending. He said when you reach the lowest point of the road, it would stop, and you need to carry it back ascending, and once more ride it downwards. That is, if you want to fool yourself again and again. 

We bought souvenirs from the other shops, which had the same stuff as any shop in the cordilleras: bags made of the locally woven cloth, wood works, bangles and bracelets, and the like. 

We reared back to Sagada. Disappointed, yet thankful for the experience. I felt that the people of Banaue are a sad lot. Smiles were scarce. They looked tired, like the toursists have sucked the life out of them for generations that each day is just another, when tourists gawk at them and see if they wear the tribal costumes for real, when they are subjected to the scrutiny and judgement of people like me who expect to feel 'magic' from the sight of one of the world's wonders, when day by day, they are novelties of people from the lowlands. Perhaps the terraces, if they could speak, would shout  that out. And perhaps it is time for those of us from the lowlands to think about that.