Inhabitants of Mountain province have culture so unique and unusual especially to the people of lowlands like us. Burying their dead in their backyard is one of them. I was amazed but not shocked when i personally obeserved such practice. I was in Tublay, Benguet (Tublay School of Home Industries is at least an one hour travel from Baguio City)doing my three months practice teaching. I taught Design subjects in highschool and Techincal Drawing in college. One of our newlyfound friend invited us in their ancestral place. It was Sunday so we had the luxury at least a day to explore . Together with my batch mates Sally Amarillo, Letty Coloma, Merlita Pacis and Jesus Salagubang (now OIC of TESDA in LMMSAT) went to a remote village somewhere and hidden behind the rugged mountains of Cordilleras. It is so remote that there are only two trips (vice-versa) available in ordinary days. It's most likely that the same jeep which you ride on in the morning will be the same jeep that will take you back in the aftrenoon at the junction of Halsema highway. (Halsema highway is the highest highway point in the country.)After some breathtaking travel along Zig-zag roads and deep mountain ravines below, we reached our distination at almost lunch time. The host family were very hospitable and friendly. Instanteneoulsy, they offered us their homegrown and made produce, hot tea fresh from the "kalan". We had sumptous meal, with their version of pinakbet as main course and sayote tops on the side. While we were eating i noticed some structures beneath their house. The kitchen and living room is adjacent to this "resting place" separated by some bamboo poles nicely erected and spaced together but one can able to peep in an glimpse what's inside. At least there were three of these cemented rectangular blocks. I did not bother to ask my friends neither the host family about this. I just keep it to myself but not for long. After lunch we attended a Catholic Mass officiated by a priest from Atok. WE didn't stay longer for we have to catch the last trip going back to our place. Upon reaching our boarding house, we found out that all of us have the same observation and finally have the same conclusion, that our brothers and sisters in the mountains so loved their departed ones and that even death can not make them apart.--Alakdan



Thank you for the "travelogue" style article. I love reading these kinds of stories re: tourist spots in the Phil. .Especially Baguio because it is close to Asingan and I joined several Asinganian excursions before when I was still a teen ager using a Pantranco bus. Leave Asingan at dawn, back to Asingan at around 8:00 pm..While in Baguio we visited places like: Burnham Park, Wright's Park, Mansion House, Mine's View Park, PMA, Trinidad Valley, Camp John Hay, Loakan, etc. etc...Baguio at that time looked so fresh and virginal (uncorrupted ) because at that time, there were not so many people yet . The air smelled of Scotch pine and so many highlanders were still using their native costumes. When I visited Baguio alone ( one day trips), I used to have lunch in this area near the market. For 5 pesos, I had rice, beef soup, adobo..I thought this was the Slaughterhouse then. But last time, I found out that that place have already dissapeared. *** My wife studied in SLU and she shares lots of memories too about the City of Pines. I stayed with relatives in Jungletown or Engineer's Hill. From here we often walked to Mansion House then proceed further to Mine's View park. Not much traffic, tourists and when the afternoon sun started its descent, chill started to gnaw your bones and the smell of burning pine logs start teasing your nostrils. I believe many houses here have fireplaces. Sometimes you would see a small cloud descend on a distant road. When a cloud descends on the road you are walking, everything is enveloped with mist and a slight moisture sometimes mask your face. ***After a holiday I leave Baguio via the Zigzag road. Upon reaching the toll gate close to the highway going to Ilocos, I felt that the mountain spirits are whispering: "come back, come back.." . Only Hawaii ( especially Maui ) has this kind of spiritual ambience....Vic

I wanna add stories about cordilleras. When i was still in baguio i attended a wake and part of it a caniao it's their culture, a sort of feast where you're treated to a roasted pig. All of us mostly highlanders they're very good friend of mine and we all ate the roasted pig sliced into a very thin strips and dipped into a mixture of soysauce and crushed red pepper. So you can imagine how spicy , and the trouble was the roasted pig was half cooked :)well it taste yummy sometimes with the mixture of soy and crushed labuyo ha-ha and of course a drink that kicks .RAIN


While you are on the subject of "loving our departed ones", we have a family friend whose son died as infant several years ago yet they celebrate his birthday every year and we are invited to the party. They put up a tent at the memorial site; we are invited to join the prayer and a catered lunch including lechon and other Filipino delicacies... (This is in the United States). ---Amboy


I had a similar experience going to a caniao ceremony in Mountain Trail(thats a place)together with my Baguio officemates. We arrived quite early in a clearing with a cluster of about 6 houses at the edge of a watershed forest. There was a big bonfire in the middle of the yard which I thought was one of those ceremonial fire but I learned later that there was a practical use to it. And then they brought in a big black pig which was killed not by slitting the neck but by stabbing it with a long knife aimed at the heart. This way there is no blood, less struggle and squelching from our intended lunch. I expected that they would dip it in the kawa of water being boiled nearby or douse it with boiling water so that the skin and hair could be rubbed off. Instead, it was dumped unto the raging bonfire and turned a few times until the hair burned off, leaving only semi- scorched skin. It was brought to a dulang where the belly was opened for the removal of the innards after which it was butchered into big cubical pieces, not in clean and professional grocery cut but random dismemberment. The pieces, about 500 to 800 grams each, are strung together with pliant bamboo strips, four pieces for each loop. The strung pork meat were then placed in the boiling water of the kawa. In Asingan, we do that for preliminary cooking to cougualate the remaining blood and to facilitate the slicing. Ah, it would take a while before we will have lunch... i was thinking to myself. Meantime we were enjoying the pinkish strawberry flavored tapey which taste heavenly but packs the kick of a horse. after three shots, cicadas started humming in my ear. Tapey is prepared from fermented rice,aged and distilled to almost essential alcohol and taken as it is, or flavored. In this case it is given a flavor from another plentiful product of the area which is strawberry. No sooner than I had my fourth shot of tapey, that they announced that lunch is ready! A lady was giving out banana tree barks followed by another one with a basket of rice. Alice, my friend and host was a little embarrased but I told her we also use it for eating in the lowlands. And then the coup-de-grace. The butchers cum cooks were giving out the steaming lumps of pork still strung on their bamboo loops. At first i didnt know what to do with my piece but taking a hint from those around, i dipped it in salt which came with the banana bark and bit off a generous portion. It was good. And more so when shredded siling labuyo was passed. It seems that the pork taste were locked-in without being overwhelmed by the flavor and smell of spices except that there is an enhancing smoky flavor from the hair and skin burning. And with soup of pinikpikan nga pato with etag, I soon was lining for my second round of rice. I am lucky to have experienced the hospitality of the cordilleras. The people are hospitable and generous to a fault. When it was time to go back, we were each gifted with sangabakroy nga uggot ken bunga ti sayote. --Icarus