Many times in my travels here I've had to ask for directions because, frankly, I get lost a lot. The frequent problem I run into is that Tagalog is a tonal language, much like most Asian languages. When I traveled in South America it was possible for me to totally butcher a Portuguese or Spanish word, and have the locals still make out what I was saying. That's not happening here. My example is the town of Iba, where I spent a few days recently. When I arrived at the bus station to depart, I asked a conductor where I can board a bus for Iba. He gives me a look and repeats back to me what I had just said. I again say "I'm trying to get to Iba, where can I board a bus to Iba?". He says something like "I don't know what that is, we don't go there". I immediately knew he was either lying or didn't understand me. I kept pressing, repeating the word "Iba" and digging in my backpack for a map so I could point to the town. Out of nowhere he suddenly says "Ohhhhh, Iba, yes we have a bus bound for Iba". At this point you'd think I would be contorting my face in confusion as to why, for an inordinate amount of time, he couldn't understand me, but then suddenly knew exactly what I was talking about. The trick, I quickly realized, is in the tone. You see, I caught a nearly imperceptible difference in the way I said "Iba" and the way he said it. I pronounced it "ee-bah", with the stress on the first syllable. He said "ee-bah", stressing the last syllable. The difference was very subtle. It's these small differences in pronunciation, typical with Asian languages, that have created problems for me. I've since learned that, if someone gives me a blank stare after I ask them a question, to just keep repeating the question with different stress and tonal combinations. It can get pretty comical.
And the good news for today is: I found a camera! Wahoo! And a disposable one, which I've been looking for since I arrived in country. Walking back to the hostel today I took a different street just to see something new. From the sidewalk I saw a camera store partially obscured by a fried chicken restaurant. For a few seconds I vacillated back and forth as to whether I should inquire about a disposable camera. I'd kind of lost hope for finding one and the camera store looked crowded; I didn't want the hassle. But some unseen force drew me towards the store. I weaved through the crowed, eyes darting this way and that trying to spot one.
And then, like a kid finding an Easter Egg in the basement in July, I glanced inside the glass case at the counter and shouted as loud as I could "EUREKA!". Well, not exactly. But I did walk up to the counter and say, "Do you have any disposable cameras?". I didn't get the correct response. The woman looked at the man beside her and they both started shaking their heads. Just before I could point to the case and say, "Well, what is that down there", she got all excited and went groping around inside the display. Phew. It was exactly what I wanted. A disposable camera, not waterproof, with a flash. AND it was manufactured by a reputed company, Fujifilm I've seen disposable cameras around that look like children's toys and appear to have very questionable quality. So, now I'll have my own pictures of the places I go. And some of the pictures may even have me in them. Sweet-as!
Today I visited Tam-awan village, which is a mock up of an authentic Filipino native village. A charity foundation purchased real huts from native tribes and transplanted them here to Baguio. Tourists can visit the village and see what the huts look like. Also, if said tourist wants to rough it they can sleep in a hut overnight. I would have been all for crashing in an authentic Ifuago tribal hut, but my hostel is about P200 cheaper and I'm on a tight budget. The village was amazing, though. There are multiple tribes in the mountain region, and they all have small differences in design and architecture. It came as no surprise that the most feared of the tribes, who are headhunters, had the best houses. Their architecture was probably influenced by all the other tribes who they defeated, thereby taking all the best ideas and integrating them into a tribal mansion. Although in this case "mansion" just means two rooms instead of one.
After Tam-awan village I stopped at the St. Louis University Museum. The museum curator, Ike, was sure to point out to me that this St. Louis University in Baguio, Philippines had no connection to the city in Missouri. Thanks for clearing that up, Ike. I will say that this museum was extremely interesting and had many amazing artifacts relating to the daily lives of the mountain tribes. Ike was very informative, explaining how they mined and smelted gold with rudimentary tools and a bellows made from a tree trunk, how they worked the rice terraces with only wooden shovels and milled the rice using a mortar and pestle, and also how they mummified their dead with plant oils, tobacco smoke, and fly swatters. The mummification process is a bit unsettling, as it begins by propping up the dead relative in your living room for between 3 and 30 days for mourning, depending on the deceased's status in the village. Apparently if you were of high status your rotting corpse gets to sit around longer. Actually, rotting isn't quite the right word, because a fire would be lit to dry you out and keep flies away. When the maggots do start eating your flesh, some lucky relatives get to pick them off, one by one. A salt-water solution is poured down your throat and tobacco smoke is blown down your windpipe, allegedly to preserve the organs inside. However, Ike said this wouldn't work and that no one really knows why these 2000 year-old mummies still have intact organs. After all this is done, they put you into a wooden coffin and hang the coffin inside a cave. In some parts of these mountains there are coffins still hanging. Some are very, very old.
After the museum I made my way to the Buddhist Temple. Ike said I should check it out, and I thought, "Hey, what the hell, I've never been inside a Buddhist Temple". I had a moment of panic as I opened the door and I realized I didn't know the proper etiquette. Was I supposed to remove my shoes? Or is that just for Muslim Mosques? Should I nod my head to the Buddha? Should I do the sign of the cross or flash a gang sign or what? Seeing that there was nobody else present in the temple I decided it wasn't a big deal, and that the Buddha would forgive me for my indiscretions. The temple seemed like a calm, peaceful place, but was alien to me so I didn't know what I was looking at. There was writing everywhere in some sort of Asian language, and incense burning somewhere out of sight. Other than that, not much else to see. I spied a toilet down a short hall, but thought maybe having in infidel urinating in his temple would push the Buddha over the edge, so I decided to hold it. After leaving the temple I stood in front of the 25 ft tall Buddha statue, gauged my degree of being impressed, and decided I was only somewhat impressed. The 260 ft crucifix at Mt. Samat had more grandeur. But I guess if you belong to a religion like Buddhism that embraces peace, awe-inspiring monuments will be few and far between.
I know I may be beating a dead horse here, but another transvestite prostitute tried to approach me today. Luckily the crowd between me and the tranny was dense, and I had an open lane leading away from her/him. Another prostitute later on asked if I wanted to "do boom-boom". No, thank you, but I appreciate the inquiry.
Well, that's all for today. I hope everyone is doing well in other parts of the world. Take care!
Pat
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