About 30 minutes walk off the main town’s road, just before the entrance of Sumaging cave, is a nice little cafe called, Gaia. Its theme lives up to its name - organic organic healthy hippy happydom shit. Not my brand but, Gaia, is just my spot.
It rains in the afternoon here in Sagada, and it makes the night air colder. This happens here when summer is about to end, and the monsoon is kicking in. Though it gets gloomy, everything still seems to be healthy here - the food, the people, the vibe - but me. I've always been wimpy with cold. Sometimes it gets too cold here, and it pierces right through. I snuggle with the warmth I thought I had handy, but that too, got cold. About 30 minutes walk off the main town’s road, just before the entrance of Sumaging cave, is a nice little cafe called, Gaia. Its theme lives up to its name - organic organic healthy hippy happydom shit. Not my brand but, Gaia, is just my spot. We hung out at Gaia for a while after our Lumiang-Sumaging Cave Connection guided trip. (Guides are mandatory – if, you know, you wanna get out alive.) I'm glad that we did, for they have one of the best hot chocolates in town. The smell of thick black tablea (round native cocoa bars) was a taste that hit home all the way back from childhood. The staff also offered their thick woven sheets, seeing that I was shivering my ass off. Gaia was a heartwarming end to an adrenaline-filled day. It also has a pretty overlooking view of Sagada. But that particular afternoon, we can barely see the town. Everything was covered in mist. My heart was cold, and my eyes misty, too. It's too damn chilly. Nights, although piercingly chilly, are still starry here in Sagada. Summer is really about to end and - at home, back in the city - typhoons are coming soon.
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I got food poisoning in Sagada. That alone tops the surprises which our Sagada leg was packed of. It started on our very first day when, as we usually do on first days, we headed out on a mission: to find something that’ll keep our stay in Sagada warm, and find a better accommodation. We hung out at one of the bars, and luckily, there we met other travelers. We hooked up with them for the rest of the afternoon, and then continued the party until after dinner at the rooftop of where we eventually ended up staying after all, at Residential Lodge Inn. (Do not ever agree to get the ground floor rooms at the back. Except for that, it’s a commendable place to stay in Sagada.) It was a good first night. Cold and starry, but the company of fellow strangers kept the night warm. It was a party of a Spanish couple, a Jew, Alex - an American, and me – a Filipina. Random bits and stories about our lives, travels, and our countries – made fun of equally – were exchanged. The conversation flowed from bullshit to insightful as the night grew deeper: from Matisyahu to Asian population and Filipino English, which somehow ended up on shared bread dipped in strawberry jam. This is a fun part when traveling: meeting strangers, and connecting with them. The kind of connection that makes you see the world through their eyes. The more interesting part of the night for me though is when I started seeing my country – as an extension of my identity – through their eyes. As the night grew deeper, the breeze too was getting colder. And somewhere in the conversation, I started feeling like a stranger - maybe more foreign than my company of foreigners. I thought it was odd feeling that way – in my own country, needless to say. I wallowed in a thought: “being a stranger is not always being in a new place. Sometimes, it’s the company you keep that makes you feel one.” Traveling somehow makes you widen your understanding of home. In between the dead silences of the night, everybody felt the piercing cold. We had to say goodbye to each other. Another fun part when traveling: connecting with people through fleeting greetings and goodbyes. The next afternoon, we hung out at the same bar for lunch. It was raining outside and we had nothing much to do, but wait 'til it stops. Luckily, we found some form of entertainment to pass the afternoon by: girl bonding a la manicure y pedicure style. The kid who was hanging out at the bar kept us company all the while. The kid’s mom, who mans the bar, warned us about her – that she’s obnoxious. We get her, we assured the mom, and I think – while watching me paint her kid’s nails – she knew what we meant. And since no one else was there to serve anyway, the mom too hung out with us. She broke the ice by sharing some, of course, gossip. Like, how a lot of celebrities from the city hung out at the bar, and how low key they get when in Sagada. We then ended up talking about Sagada’s reputation as the pot capital, and on this, she had insightful stories.
It was sometime late last year (2013) when a big PDEA raid shook the peace of this rustic little town, apparently. There were a lot of theories on why that happened, but the consensus of the town is that the whole “drug raid” was blown-up and unnecessary, as it was unfounded. It was then that Sagada started getting tight on the pot trade - whatever form it came and went - if there ever was one. Interestingly, about the same time last year, there was big news circulating in the city circle about a raid in Sagada. The news came as a shock for an activist back in the university was rumored to have been killed during an air strike initiated by the Philippine Air Force after the alleged discovery of a Communist rebel camp. This news bit is shady in all sense, but firstly, because of one simple fact: Sagada is a peace zone since 1989. A lazy rainy afternoon turned out to be more interesting than I expected. That's another fun thing: how traveling connects the dots, as equally, as it creates more questions. That night, I didn’t sleep well. I spent all night puking my brains out – on two orifices. I’ll spare the details, but let’s leave it at: getting sick while traveling makes you miss mama’s home-cooked care. That night, I missed home. Continuing on what turned out to be our Baguio leg's theme - arts and culture - we head out to check BenCab museum, and a couple of other known touristy spots in Baguio. Museum art didn’t excite me as much as finding an artsy wall – in the middle of Legarda Road on a random summer night – did though. There’s something pretentious about museums. Must be its cold white clean walls and flattering ambient lights, compared to street art’s warm and welcoming random dirt. Not riding on the high-art-low-art debate, but seriously, just what the fuck is art? You go to museums and see naked pictures of shit, and installations of what-have-you-junk and you end up asking yourself after, “the fuck did that mean?!”. Meanwhile, outside the imposing architecture of museums, a simple wall that’s covered in equally random junk with some words painted in loud colors - so loud that they move you - freely stands. The spirit of freedom is empowering. You know, for sure, that’s what art should be for. Back to BenCab, it’s nice. It’s a bit off the main city, so be prepared to spend a little more. (Taxis offer to wait for you, since public transport on that part of town is rare, at PhP200 to 300/hr.) You might end up spending an hour or two, especially if you get engrossed walking around the beautiful landscaped gardens behind the museum’s main building. Which, by the way, is restricted. Prepare to pay an additional PhP150/each if you end up wandering beyond the restricted gardens. Be warned for there are only restricted signs, but nothing about paying additional. (I know. Crafty isn’t it?) We then had a hearty lunch at La Comida de Antonio Ristorante – and as their ad says – it’s worth the climb. (It’s located at the 4th floor of La Azotea Building just along Session Road). It has a nice view of the city and they serve generous servings of very delicious food at a very reasonable price. We practically spent our last few days hopping and ticking the list of Baguio must-sees: Camp John Hay, Mines View Park, and so on. Since we started traveling, Alex and I have been doing the rugged, edgy, and generally “less” touristy way. (Although, less is, of course, relative.) So, spending the day with a touristy checklist in mind is a first. For the way we have done things though, I find something to be true: traveling couples should have a more healthy friendship, than romance. Traveling is not always the fun and exciting picture perfect shot as it is often Instagrammed, is why. Traveling is tedious. It can be dangerous, and it is often life changing – either in grand or small ways. So, imagine being with someone who is not, at least, a kindred spirit. Being with someone whom you can’t be yourself with. Imagine relieving that memory – will it be a good one? As such, I find that there’s a certain rhythm that people traveling together must master. A rhythm that only them can hear – a beat that may make or break them. This beat is trickier in romantic relationships, for it’s like having this imaginary third person – the relationship – which can either be a baggage or a joy to be around at times. Struck by a wave of nostalgia, I was mulling on these thoughts on our last days in Baguio, as I was reminded of my mom. The cheap and beautiful varieties of flowers sold in Mines View Park would have made her ecstatic – but would have complained endlessly on the expensive dine outs. My girlfriends would have also loved that pretty little café in Sagada – but would definitely gag and make fun of the vegetarian menu. Meanwhile, here I am, missing my friends and family while traveling with another person - and a romance - and I wonder: how did I end up here? Where are we going? The last item on our tick list was a sunset view at the infamous and creepy Diplomat Hotel. (Bribe the guard nicely if you get there after 5pm.) If you don’t care for scary sideshows however, head out to the circus that is SM. It also has a good sunset view. We were then off early to Sagada the next day.
Since I had to finish paid work after our rock trip weekend, the first half of our stay in Baguio was rather uneventful. Every night though, we would go out for a walk. For fans of DIY travelling like us, night walking is a staple itinerary. It’s interesting (and cheap) to see how cities are at night. It's like watching a person sleep – intimate, but at a distance. A whole week in Baguio, and our nights turned out to be more exciting than our days. Random surprises made the chilly nights warm. On one night, a popular local celebrity spontaneously performed free verse on stage in 18 BC – a famous local pub in Baguio known for featuring promising musicians – contributing to Baguio’s reputation as art’s haven. (And, apparently, the local celebrity hot spot.) He was jiberring yada for all we know, but it did bring the house down. Meanwhile, on another night, we went out on a mission. We were set to find something that will keep our stay in Baguio warm, so we figured 18BC is a good start. Cut the long story short, beginner’s luck. Check out the band, Powerpuff Corns. Bryan, their lead, is our rockstar guy. He welcomed us to Baguio in a way that only a brothah would. Really talented musicians with soul – they connect, man. Music and art connects, yeah. (*Smoke rings, smoke rings*) Coincidentally, on our way back, we found an artsy graffitied wall along Legarda Road, a block away from 18 BC, and two blocks away from where we’re staying at Bernabe Apartments. It’s the wall at the entrance of a narrow street behind Caltex. It shouldn’t be that hard to miss. We find meaning in random things that we feel connected to. It makes the art of traveling sweeter, and makes any place we go to a bit cozier. In an age where everything is diluted as empty publicity, meaning has become a scarcity. So, we take pieces of meaning with us as we travel along. And soon enough, they will make sense.
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