Bontoc to Sagada to Banaue

Leaving the farm was hard but it felt good climbing up the mountain on my own again. when i reached the top dripping in sweat i had my first cold drink, a San Miguel, in a week. I really took the simple pleasures of refrigeration for granted and i pledge never to leave the fridge door open again Mom, promise.  I hopped a Jeepney back to Bagio then a bus to Bontoc, took maybe 6-7 hours. Some of the bus's here have two seats on each side of the aisle like normal but another fold down seat to make it a 5 person row. In my mind i kept thinking about just how i would hurdle these people in the aisle if a fire or other emergency were to occur. An emergency seemed plausible as we careened around corners meant for half a car in a bus clearly made pre soviet union. Most of the mountain roads here take the high route where in Vermont most of the roads are in the valley. We were high enough for my ears to pop and at some points at the very tips so much that there was nothing but air on either side of the bus. My plan was to go to Bontoc for there Sunday market where my guide book said there might be elder head hunters that come down from the hills to sell the fruits of there labor. I decided to head to the Bontoc museum to learn some more before i came across any of these elders as to not become a trophy from some simple slight. It was interesting, not mind blowing but for a buck i could swing it. There were a few photos taken in the early part of the 20th century with men minus there heads that i found grisly yet fascinating. I read that head hunting was practiced for no real reason except the towns people were bored. They would get all bored then work themselves up and head out for some fresh heads. Given the way they lived (the same way for 2000 years) i would think they got bored often. After i left i no longer felt hungry for some odd reason and i made my way to the market. I didn't see any elders really, at least not in tribal dress but i did see some butcher shops that were equally as unsettling to my stomach as the headless men. without refrigeration the meats layout on display in the heat and i kept thinking that "maybe the pig (whose head was on display) was just killed" but probably not. As i passed each butcher shop the men and women would wave a long stick with a handkerchief on it to scary away any fly's in hopes that i would consider buying a choice cut like the intestines or eye sockets. I didn't, instead i bought a homemade cinnamon bun wheel the size of a medium pizza for 50 cents. On to Sagada! This hip mountain town is where white people like me seem to cluster. Caves and waterfalls abound and cheap homestays make leaving hard. I decided to spend two nights there for 5 bucks a night, not bad, not bad at all. The power was off in town for most of my stay but i was able to get out and do some treking on my own. I walked to the caves to see Sagada's famous "hanging coffins". Guided tours were available but the price for one person was the same as three so i decided to check out the caves myself. As i descended into the Sumaging cave just as far as i cared to go, even with my fancy boots it was slick and i could hear the little chirping of thousands of bats. As i walked up a guide and five Filipinos where headed down and i couldn't help but notice that the guide was wearing flip flops and two of the men where wearing no shoes at all, wow. immediately i thought to tell them that i think there must be a lot of bat shit on the ground and they might want something on their feet but then, haha, i thought they must know. Maybe they like bat shit? Maybe its good for calluses or dry skin? while i thought of this they stopped me to see if i cared to join for 100 pesos. A two hour cave tour for what was normally went for 500-800 pesos was a great deal. I was thinking it over when a man with two gold front teeth and no shoes put his arm around me an urged me into the immense dark hole in the earth. There are times when you are traveling, anywhere, states or abroad when something just doesn't feel quite right. Staring into his mouth and looking back into the cave this was one of those times. I was in the forest by myself and no one knew i was there. Becoming a real life Gollum minus my money and my pack suddenly seemed like a real life possibility. i had to decline, i kicked myself a bit for not being more adventurous but i have heard many stories from other travelers and they all start the same "i knew i probably shouldn't, i didn't follow my instincts or something seemed wrong but i said F it" so i quickly got over it and headed to my next cave. The Lumiang cave's entrance was full of ancient wooded coffins stacked high against the wall. This place was sacred and you could feel something when standing at its six story entrance. An eerie calm maybe. I left there and headed back to my room to grab a shower, i was drenched from the hike, only to find that the power was out and cold showers were the only thing going. i am learning to love them. Its less about the pleasure of the shower and more a game about trying to get in and out, clean, as fast as you can. After a decent night by the bonfire with some other travelers drinking rum and pineapple juice (a 1/5 cost 1.75 usd :) ). i woke early and went back to Bontoc in hopes that the power was back on so the only ATM in town would be working. i was in luck. I boarded a Jeepney to Banaue a two hour hair raising ride through the mountain where landslides seem to take up half the road in many places. This was rice terrace country, i stared out the window at the beauty of it all. Endless mountains and valleys covered at least partially with terraces .i was in awe as i finished my cinnamon bun and last of my water but was jolted out of this wonderful landscape dream when the woman on my right asked very politely if i wanted her to throw my trash out the window. My heart sunk as i shook my head and said thank you anyway and with a shrug she tossed hers. Thus is the paradox of the Philippines, bewildering beauty marred in part by trash that no one seems to care about. The rest of the ride went by decently as i watched the woman on my left pick lice from her daughters hair and toss them out the window. That sort of trash throwing i was ok with. i discretely  tried to wiggle a few centimeters farther away but no luck this Jeepney was packed. Banaue is home to a UNESCO world heritage site, these rice terraces are supposed to be the eighth wonder of the world but were recently taken off the list and i am not sure why but couldn't help thinking trash and poverty to be partly to blame. The mountains here are those of legend and appear on the filipino 1000 dollar bill. I took a tricycle to the top and spent my afternoon ooohing and aweing. Night fell as it always does around 6pm and i decided that i would make my first trip to a local bar. I don't have a lot of money to spend at bars so this was a treat. The only place open was "Friends country music bar" haha, damn! ah well from the noise i figured it was hoppin inside. Well i was wrong. I was the only patron but settled in with a "Red Horse Extra Strong" anyway (6.9% for about a buck a bottle). The house band was on a run, willy Nelson, John Denver and Elton John haha so i decided to stick around. It was a sight to behold. Well, things picked up and by the end of the night i was arm wrestling the locals as we hoisted our glasses to anything and everything. i lost more then i won that's for sure but had a hard time saying "no thanks i don't arm wrestle". It was a really fun night and wish you all could have been there with me to help them sing jimmy buffet in style.