SAGADA: The touch of God
July 13, 2001 | 12:00am
I’m spacing out. Spacing out on how many calories I injected into my system from eating a coffee roll and grilled ensaymada while hypocritically downing a can of Diet Coke. Like any other urbanite right smack in the middle of a seemingly endless meeting, I stare at the laminated oak table. Wondering how many trees were cut down to make this "office furniture." Wondering, even, when I would be able to see another majestic tree, or a rock...or nature’s running water. Suffice it to say, I start daydreaming at 11 a.m.
Looking at the oak table brought me back to one of the mountain provinces up north. It’s seven hours of dirt road in a non-air-conditioned bus from Baguio City – Sagada. Like all my other trips, I wasn’t dragged screaming and kicking. In fact, I welcomed the idea of inhaling fresh mountain air and listening to the soothing sound of nothingness. So, off we go, my college friends and I.
We got to Baguio as the sun was still contemplating its ascent. Transferring to a "provincial" bus bound for Sagada, my journey begins. Seven hours later, my hair was hard enough to scrub grease from canteen pans. As any group that just went up and left Manila, we didn’t have an inkling as to where we will be staying for three days. It was in the middle of April and I guess none of us had the brains to reserve or scout for an abode so we trudged on, mountain packs on our backs, from transient house to another. Finally, we were able to snag a whole house that gave us a fairly good price.
And on the first day, we rested. Being with a group that organizes companies for a living, our whole three-day vacation was plotted in detail up to the time we touch base in Manila. So on the second day, we did everything – and I mean, EVERYTHING. My theory of waking up early in unfamiliar territories was left unfurled by Sagada. Sure, the atmosphere was bed-weather tops, but I wanted to explore the surroundings ASAP. So, even with the tiring day before, I was up drinking coffee and watching the sun rise. The house was stirring even before I finished my cup o’ joe and everybody was already dressed to trek. Our first agenda: Go to, what us tourists call, the BIG CAVE.
Registering at the town hall (practically scaring most of us since we were dreading the worse like, are we going to disappear from the face of the earth once we enter the cave?), we got two guides for our group. Adrenalin pumping through our veins, we walked to the Big Cave, known to natives as the Sumaging Cave. After 30 minutes of dirt road with our black mojos turning brown, we saw the mouth of the cave. Thus, we entered.
Like all caves, it was dark and wet. We lit our rented lanterns and forged onwards, feeling like archaeologists. With light sweeping throughout the cave, I was awed by its enormity. There were rock formations that only nature could have molded. We walked deeper into the cave and saw wall after wall of colors and shapes and textures. Then, we got to the cave’s main attraction – spelunking. A swimming hole deep enough to scare the bejesus from some of us, yet it was so inviting that we literally jumped into it. The pathetic part was getting out of the pool. You see, we jumped from a very high point and we didn’t know how we were gonna get up again. Ergo, we started grappling rocks and stones with our bare hands as we painfully made our way to the top, drenching yet fully contented. Little did we know that we would be doing the same climb after resting for five minutes. Once we were semi-dried, our guides started walking towards a high wall, seemingly a dead end for us. Apparently, climbing that wall would be part of the package. Looking for something to hold, we found none. Our guides were our ladders. All 12 of us stepped on their feet and hands just to get to the top. Poor guides were wasted once we got out of the cave and back to town. Little did they know that we still had the whole day to torture them still.
On the way back, we saw the famous hanging coffins from afar. And like the pestering Manileños that we are, we forced our guides to take us closer. Soon enough, we were face-to-face with native mummies. It’s an intriguing sight to behold since some of the coffins were wedged between rocks up on the wall. There was a bottomless pit beside it and it must have been dangerous to put them there. I had the strangest feeling that I was desecrating their bodies by just being there so I threw some coins and said a little prayer for their souls and turned away.
Lunch break. Still dripping a bit from the swim, we walked towards town. By now we were starving and our aching, un-used muscles were threatening to go on strike. We found a restaurant put up by a famous photographer named Masferre and waited for our first full meal for the day. After devouring pinikpikan, their specialty, and loads of rice and some other viands, we were re-energized to go on with our next agenda. The BIG WATERFALL.
Renting a jeep that will take us to the drop point where we’ll start trekking, we savored the feeling of giving our feet and knees a break. But, that was just for less than 10 minutes. We grudgingly got off the jeep and were welcomed by an up close and personal trek across the rice terraces. Yes, we were walking on the dried strips as we jokingly sang Magtanim ay Di Biro. An hour-and-a-half later, we still had not seen the waterfall and we were getting tired and beat. As if on cue, three little girls came from nowhere and started running in front of us, giggling like nymphs and seemingly challenging us to walk on. We picked up speed, stopping once in a while to get paper memories of some scenery. Then, we heard it. Running, splashing water. Excitedly, we walked faster and faster as the splashing sound became louder and louder. We did not notice the change of path we were stepping on, we were concentrated on the sound. From green muddy slopes, we were now trekking on rocks. And then, there it was. Majestic is the word to describe the waterfall. I stopped and stared at it for a long time, slowly sitting on a large rock and just looking, contemplating that this was probably Eden. In my sight, it must have been as big as any of the skyscrapers in Makati. After staying for 30 minutes at the waterfall, we opted to get back up to the jeep since it was late in the afternoon and we knew we had a whole trek ahead of us – UPHILL.
After three hours of a gruelling walk that could be equated to a week’s workout, we reached the top. It was around 7:30 p.m. and the jeep was waiting. Fulfilled as if we touched the hand of God, we rode back to our house with still one more thing to do before we called it a day. Some of the guides invited us to join a bonfire beside (or was it behind?) the cemetery. So, after a light dinner of instant noodles and canned meat, we joined the "boys" in some singing and story telling. A great way to cap an adventurous day.
I sigh and snap out of my reverie as my meeting wraps up. I fondly touch the oak table and smile. Oh well, is what I always say, I have Sagada in my heart for always. It was a trip that made me see the face of God and His hand in everything. Even now, in the hustle and bustle, everytime I see big rocks, some wood or one of those man-made falls, I can’t help but be transported to Sagada, where God touched my soul. - Theresa R. Lariosa (Second Prize, Travel Now Contest)
Looking at the oak table brought me back to one of the mountain provinces up north. It’s seven hours of dirt road in a non-air-conditioned bus from Baguio City – Sagada. Like all my other trips, I wasn’t dragged screaming and kicking. In fact, I welcomed the idea of inhaling fresh mountain air and listening to the soothing sound of nothingness. So, off we go, my college friends and I.
We got to Baguio as the sun was still contemplating its ascent. Transferring to a "provincial" bus bound for Sagada, my journey begins. Seven hours later, my hair was hard enough to scrub grease from canteen pans. As any group that just went up and left Manila, we didn’t have an inkling as to where we will be staying for three days. It was in the middle of April and I guess none of us had the brains to reserve or scout for an abode so we trudged on, mountain packs on our backs, from transient house to another. Finally, we were able to snag a whole house that gave us a fairly good price.
And on the first day, we rested. Being with a group that organizes companies for a living, our whole three-day vacation was plotted in detail up to the time we touch base in Manila. So on the second day, we did everything – and I mean, EVERYTHING. My theory of waking up early in unfamiliar territories was left unfurled by Sagada. Sure, the atmosphere was bed-weather tops, but I wanted to explore the surroundings ASAP. So, even with the tiring day before, I was up drinking coffee and watching the sun rise. The house was stirring even before I finished my cup o’ joe and everybody was already dressed to trek. Our first agenda: Go to, what us tourists call, the BIG CAVE.
Registering at the town hall (practically scaring most of us since we were dreading the worse like, are we going to disappear from the face of the earth once we enter the cave?), we got two guides for our group. Adrenalin pumping through our veins, we walked to the Big Cave, known to natives as the Sumaging Cave. After 30 minutes of dirt road with our black mojos turning brown, we saw the mouth of the cave. Thus, we entered.
Like all caves, it was dark and wet. We lit our rented lanterns and forged onwards, feeling like archaeologists. With light sweeping throughout the cave, I was awed by its enormity. There were rock formations that only nature could have molded. We walked deeper into the cave and saw wall after wall of colors and shapes and textures. Then, we got to the cave’s main attraction – spelunking. A swimming hole deep enough to scare the bejesus from some of us, yet it was so inviting that we literally jumped into it. The pathetic part was getting out of the pool. You see, we jumped from a very high point and we didn’t know how we were gonna get up again. Ergo, we started grappling rocks and stones with our bare hands as we painfully made our way to the top, drenching yet fully contented. Little did we know that we would be doing the same climb after resting for five minutes. Once we were semi-dried, our guides started walking towards a high wall, seemingly a dead end for us. Apparently, climbing that wall would be part of the package. Looking for something to hold, we found none. Our guides were our ladders. All 12 of us stepped on their feet and hands just to get to the top. Poor guides were wasted once we got out of the cave and back to town. Little did they know that we still had the whole day to torture them still.
On the way back, we saw the famous hanging coffins from afar. And like the pestering Manileños that we are, we forced our guides to take us closer. Soon enough, we were face-to-face with native mummies. It’s an intriguing sight to behold since some of the coffins were wedged between rocks up on the wall. There was a bottomless pit beside it and it must have been dangerous to put them there. I had the strangest feeling that I was desecrating their bodies by just being there so I threw some coins and said a little prayer for their souls and turned away.
Lunch break. Still dripping a bit from the swim, we walked towards town. By now we were starving and our aching, un-used muscles were threatening to go on strike. We found a restaurant put up by a famous photographer named Masferre and waited for our first full meal for the day. After devouring pinikpikan, their specialty, and loads of rice and some other viands, we were re-energized to go on with our next agenda. The BIG WATERFALL.
Renting a jeep that will take us to the drop point where we’ll start trekking, we savored the feeling of giving our feet and knees a break. But, that was just for less than 10 minutes. We grudgingly got off the jeep and were welcomed by an up close and personal trek across the rice terraces. Yes, we were walking on the dried strips as we jokingly sang Magtanim ay Di Biro. An hour-and-a-half later, we still had not seen the waterfall and we were getting tired and beat. As if on cue, three little girls came from nowhere and started running in front of us, giggling like nymphs and seemingly challenging us to walk on. We picked up speed, stopping once in a while to get paper memories of some scenery. Then, we heard it. Running, splashing water. Excitedly, we walked faster and faster as the splashing sound became louder and louder. We did not notice the change of path we were stepping on, we were concentrated on the sound. From green muddy slopes, we were now trekking on rocks. And then, there it was. Majestic is the word to describe the waterfall. I stopped and stared at it for a long time, slowly sitting on a large rock and just looking, contemplating that this was probably Eden. In my sight, it must have been as big as any of the skyscrapers in Makati. After staying for 30 minutes at the waterfall, we opted to get back up to the jeep since it was late in the afternoon and we knew we had a whole trek ahead of us – UPHILL.
After three hours of a gruelling walk that could be equated to a week’s workout, we reached the top. It was around 7:30 p.m. and the jeep was waiting. Fulfilled as if we touched the hand of God, we rode back to our house with still one more thing to do before we called it a day. Some of the guides invited us to join a bonfire beside (or was it behind?) the cemetery. So, after a light dinner of instant noodles and canned meat, we joined the "boys" in some singing and story telling. A great way to cap an adventurous day.
I sigh and snap out of my reverie as my meeting wraps up. I fondly touch the oak table and smile. Oh well, is what I always say, I have Sagada in my heart for always. It was a trip that made me see the face of God and His hand in everything. Even now, in the hustle and bustle, everytime I see big rocks, some wood or one of those man-made falls, I can’t help but be transported to Sagada, where God touched my soul. - Theresa R. Lariosa (Second Prize, Travel Now Contest)
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