Whew...it's been a while since I've last said a piece off my mind. Anyway, I was about to write my most wonderful experience of seeing the Banaue Rice Terraces, but reality kicked in as I still had one major exam to attend to. I left for the highlands last Tuesday, came back on Thursday, dragged myself out of bed and studied the following Friday, and hied off to my professor's office on Saturday to take the exam.

Ugh. Since I don't want to dwell on the exam part, let me just say I took my vacation first before having that structural exam. (which unfortunately, I didn't get exempted on.) And my structural prof, Sir Nolido, is the coolest. He actually let me go to Banaue instead of taking his exam last Tuesday. And so that explains why I was all by my lonesome when I took the exam last Saturday.

***

ANYWAY, the Banaue Rice Terraces is simply breathtaking. It is one of those few places that actually brings a tear to your eye the moment you catch a glimpse of it. It is one of those few spots on earth that recalls the word ‘pristine’ to mind. Or the word ‘lonely’ in Lonely Planet. Mountains, though usually full of greens and foliage, are rarely fertile grounds, so I guess that’s the main difference between this mound of earth and other mountain ranges.

Everything is unspoilt in this mountainous region. All seems pure – to the undiluted beauty of the mountainside up to the unaffected graciousness of the people. The water is sparkling – in fact, I think you could drink the water gushing out from the side of the mountain (a site we’ve seen on more than several occasions as we trekked from Banaue all the way to Sagada) since it has been filtered thoroughly by the trees way, way up in the mountain tops.

The natives have reddish, clear skin, which is probably one good result of the pure mountain air they are accustomed to. Of course, their beauty is more than skin deep. The most lasting impression I’ll have of the people of Banaue is the way they live simply. The children are behaved – we gave them sweets and other goodies when we climbed down to their village, and they didn’t grab or push each other or anything. They simply waited and expressed their gratitude afterwards. All of them were good natured and very polite.

***

But going to Banaue, as enjoyable as it is, wasn’t the most pleasurable trip I’ve ever been to. On the contrary, it is literally the most exhausting journey I’ve ever been on.

To be more precise, going to Sagada was the more exhausting of the two. (FYI: Banaue and Sagada are two different municipalities of the Mountain Province) It is so far from civilization and all the amenities that it offers that it is also deprived of a well paved road linking the town to other parts of the province. Imagine this: you are in a region that is wholly covered with mountains, and the only way to get to the different parts of the province is through a jeepney – a vehicle that is no match to a regular 4 x 4 – and literally, it is a bumpy ride. And towns are around 2 to 4 hours away from each other.

And that is even the easy part. The hard part is going down to the villages at the foot of the mountain.

***
It was the first time I got so dehydrated that I almost passed out. We just came back from Banga-an Village, one of those communities living at the bottom of one of the rice terrace(s). It was 500 m down from where we were parked. Horizontally, it isn’t really much, but unfortunately, it wasn’t so vertically. It wasn’t steep a slope because there were rice paddies, but going down still proved to be a feat, especially for someone like me who wasn’t used to hiking and other nature pursuits. After mingling with the village folk and basically trying to find out what their life was like, (obviously living in the highlands required a very different lifestyle) I made the trip up. Gosh. The color just drained off my face.

***

But the whole trek was worth it. The journey felt like a discovery of one’s roots. It felt good to be talking to someone who belongs to such a place in one’s own tongue – it made the connection to the place stronger, unlike in other beautiful places where you could only appreciate the scenery at a visual level. Breathtaking, but foreign. Also, it was one of those times I felt I saw the hand of God – only He could have made such a beautiful picture.