Keeping My Head in Kalinga!

I decided to ignore any warnings from the Philippino’s in Banaue telling me that Kalinga was an evil place where tribal war, animal sacrifice and headhunting still happens. Infact this only intrigued me more as I boarded a bus to Bontoc and after spending a night there, found another bus to headed into Kalinga province.

The views from the morning bus were unequaled in my Philippines experience. Tinglayen is a rough 3 hour bus ride from Bontoc but was anything but boring. It was 3/4 of the way there when I met Francis who was to be my guide for the next few days treking in the mountains. I checked in Sleeping Beauty Hotel (which was no beauty) and met Francis for lunch to discuss plans for the next couple of days.

Arrangements made, I set off on my own after lunch and wandered around the three small villages nearest to Tinglayen. Slightly cautious from the warning I had heard in Banaue of “Evil People” and “Tribal Wars,” The people I met tending to their rice fields were extremely friendly and kind. I even got to meet a very sweet old lady who displayed sleeves of the traditional Kalinga tattoo design, now a fading art in the region but was common up until the 1950′s on the headhunters and on woman as a mark of beauty.

The next day I met Francis for breakfast and with our bellies full heading off up the mountain trail. The terrain was nothing short of rugged and very difficult to transverse, and not more than an hour in I felt good knowing I didn’t sign up for more than 2 days of hiking. Not quite as expansive as Banaue, The rice terraces in Kalinga were almost superior due to the greenery of the landscape. We met many bead laden tribes people on their way to pick up supplies in Tinglayen many chewing betel nut leaving their teeth and gums stained bright red.

It took 3 hours to reach the village of Dananao, where we were greeted by the countless hello’s from calling children. I attracted quite an entourage following me around as I made my way through the village and even the adults and elders seemed genuinely interested. I met a few more tattooed ladies and distributed some matches before heading down the opposite side of the mountain to the river. I liked the idea of giving out matches when Francis suggested it as so many places in the world people demand money from tourists, matches seemed much more practical and ethical considering the long walk to get them.

Another hour of walking, down hill this time, and we reached a hot spring at the bottom of a waterfall and just in time because it was starting to rain. I stripped down and joined a couple of kids for a quick dip in the warm water which helped ease some of the sore muscles.

Despite appearing very close, Tulgao village took another 2 hours to reach by walking up a very steep path. Geographically they are close, but culturally these two villages are a ways apart. The people speak a completely different dialect of the native language and are not allowed to marry into the other tribal group. Tribal war has even broken out between the two over land disagreement but hasn’t occurred in 10 years and should not deter visitors despite what Philippinos in Banue will tell you.

Just outside of Tulgao, some locals were sitting at the edge of a rice paddy eating a basic meal of red rice and beans. They were kind enough to allow us to join them for some well needed food and when we left for the village, instead of money I paid them with a small box of matches as thanks.

My accommodation for the night was to stay with a local family and it was their house that we went to after arriving in Tulgao. Only the Grandfather was home but allowed us to spend the afternoon chatting with him about the days of headhunting and his memories of the Japanese occupation. When the conversation grew quiet, he would play a traditional instrument made of bamboo cut into a fork so the two pieces could vibrate when struck against his palm. I received a quick lesson and was able to have a quick jam session with him.

Dinner came late as the daughter and grandson work in the fields until complete darkness. On the menu was a soup of deer hooves, boiled deer skin, some tiny salted fish and of course rice. The rice and fish saved me because despite my open minded eating habits, I found the deer skin and hooves completely unpalatable. After dinner and a few shots of gin it was off to bed.

The house was very small consisting of only one room on the ground level with a fire in the corner used for cooking and one large second floor room for sleeping. I felt bad when my hosts insisted I sleep on the only mattress but after trying to refuse and not wanting to loose face, I agreed.

At breakfast I didn’t fare any better with snails and rice, but the thought of my 6 year old cousin surviving in North Luzon on tadpoles for much longer than one night helped push me to fill my stomach. The pleasant surprise of the morning came in the cup of homemade coffee which is grown throughout Kalinga. It was delicious and something I wish I could have taken with me.

We didn’t hang around long as the family had work to do in the field and after I expressed my sincere gratitude for the families generosity and I gave them a little money and we departed. Overnight the clouds had moved in blanketing everything in thick fog which obstructed any views but made for a mystical atmosphere while we joined the villagers walking out to their rice fields. We passed through one more village named Butbut before dropping below the clouds into some more gorgeous terraces with the women busy planting. Shortly after we came to a road which we followed back to Tinglayen.

The experience was what I had hoped it to be, allowing me to access some very remote tribes and witness their daily life which was so different than my own. Many locals were so friendly it warmed my heart but there were also those (middle aged woman usually) who seemed slightly suspicious of a foreigners presence. When I spoke to my guide he told me that not very many tourists make it this far and the local people are generally very happy to see foreigners interested in village life but others still find it strange why we would care to see a different way of living.While the experience was highly rewarding, I believe it is of the utmost importance to tred lightly on these truly unique little villages for fear of damaging what you have come to see.

As a final surprise the morning I was set to leave Francis saw me off with a big bag of Kalinga coffee as a gift.