Advertisement
Published: March 12th 2008
Edit Blog Post
I have to say I have never before been so excited for a six hour bus ride. I took a 13 hour bus ride home for Christmas two years ago, and ever since the idea of spending any more then two stops on the OC Transpo system has turned my stomach. Of course I could have flown to Baguio from Manila - it is about as complicated as grabbing a Porter flight from Ottawa to Toronto, but that was out of the question. Regular Filipinos can not afford to fly between cities. They take ungodly long bus rides to go to out of town meetings, to visit their families, to go on vacation for holy week. And so I scheduled myself on a Victory Liner for the trip. I prepared for days in advance, my carry on luggage was full of music, fun reading and candy - all the things I need to pacify my stomach and my mood. And I was starting to look forward to the trip, who isn't excited for an excuse to eat heaps of guilt-free gummy worms.
Leaving Manila and heading north you pass through provinces that all border a sleepy old Volcano. Traveling around
the base of Mont Arayat I enjoyed its contoured peeks with the pleasure of someone from a country with no volcanoes realizing that they actually do look somewhat like the cartoon drawings i have seen all my life. But I have been in Central Luzon before and Mont Arayat is no longer new and overwhelming. To avoid watching the Jean Claude Van Dam movie that was playing for the passengers; the typical, Filipino bus ride/action movie combo; I dipped into my carry-on for music and closed my eyes to dose. After one cycle through listening to Britney's new CD and feeling nostalgic about going dancing at home. I was shocked to realize that we where definitely not in Central Luzon anymore. Britney could no longer compete with the scenery out my window.
The Cordillera is named for its corded mountains range. The first sight I got of these famous mountains where as we drove through the foothills. As we passed small towns and road side melon stalls the overpowering image of mountains on the horizon filtered in and out from behind the trees. It reminded me of driving from Calgary into the rockies. The curves in the road changes
your view constantly, the mountains come at you from different angles and from different sides, making it difficult for you to tell if you are seeing new mountains or the same formation over ad over again. Until the magical moment when the road straitens and you can see it ahead of you for kilometers, rising to take you into the mountains that have been playing with your senses. The rockies are always a clear gray and look sharp against the sky, but the Cordillera mountains are a lush green and rise and fall in a pattern that more caresses the sky then cuts it. Because the plants grown thick up the sides of the mountains they don't look separate from the surrounding fields, but like an outgrowth, like a father who looks over his children yet to grow as tall as him. They look inviting and I felt embraced as we rounded higher and higher up narrow roads.
The most amazing part about driving into the Cordillera is the deep valleys that allow you to see across to another cord and at times even glimpse water. I saw the South China sea for the first time from my bus window, watching a picturesque sun dipped into its lilac waters. I spied the sea between two mountain peeks that where ringing a deep, patchwork valley. The houses along the mountain walls where clustered together, giving the impression that they where clinging together for stability. Along the valley floors the houses where farther apart, sitting on opposite sides of shiny water ways, and the bright limy, green of new rice fields could be made out. The palms and pine trees mingled to form a thick coating around the house on the valley floors and up toward the peeks. As the bus slowly navigated the winding, cliff edge roads from time to time we would plunge into full forest and move faster, always coming out onto a new cliff to look out over a new valley. I don't know how there could be so many different mountains and different valleys in one space, the Cordillera seems magical in its ability to provide space for so many dominating rock formations.
We eventually came out along a cliff that clearly followed a circle around the valley. This valley, less deep but wider then most of the others, held cluster upon cluster of houses. Closing in on what I learned was Baguio City, I was reminded of photographs I have seen of cities along the Mediterranean coast, the way they rise up from the sea, following the contour of the sand and the foot hills. Baguio is spread out, more humane then Manila in its use of space, and yet all of the space seems to be maximized. They do not seem to fear building on top of traditional "fitted" rock walls, into the mountain, up the side of the mountain. The buildings all seem to be shaped to fit the piece of mountain that they share. Moving slowly toward this city it gave me a feeling of having an organic understanding of the space on which it has been placed, something definitely not present in Manila.
Driving into the city proper you loose the clear view of the mountains around you. The rise and fall of the roads obscure the peeks behind buildings and houses. However, the people of Baguio are blessed with accidental views, snippets of the beauty around them rising up from behind drugs stores and from the tops of overpasses. Climbing off my bus I stretched my legs and sat by the entrance waiting for my drive, admiring pines taller then I had ever seen at home rising from a peek just past the intersection in from of me.
Being in Baguio a few days later then I was suppose to be I was picked up and whisked immediately to a welcome dinner with my coordinator and then to my new home. My last two days have been a rush of meeting co-workers and affiliated people's organizations, learning to use a Filipino washing machine, gawking at the hilariously Albertan cowboy culture in the city and trying at some point to find time to buy a pillow. It has been a whirlwind, but it is all in because this evening I leave with co-workers to travel even farther north into the mountains. We have a six hour bus ride ahead of us to get into a indigenous community for a human rights training seminar. I guess there is no rest when human rights are involved. I am excited to go into my first indigenous community. So many more new sights. By the time Sunday arrives, and we are back in Baguio and I am back in my newly-sheeted bed, I will have some pictures of these magical mountains I am starting to fall in love with, and hopefully of some of the magical people that inhabit them.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.187s; Tpl: 0.014s; cc: 10; qc: 50; dbt: 0.1503s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Del
non-member comment
Only in the PHilippines
You have had a wonderful experience in the Philippines. Being a FilAm myself I enjoy reading your experiences of an amazing country the Philippines. Mabuhay!