Thank you so much to everyone who's reading and supporting this story. I apologize for the late updates. My life has been buzzing with activity. My first day of college is near. I'm beta-ing someone else's work and a few outings came out. I regret to inform you that I will have to put this story on hiatus, but if I can squeeze in some time to write the next chapters, I won't waste time in doing so.
Nevertheless, I assure you that the quality of the chapters will not be compromised. I personally think that this chapter is one of the best in this story. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I only own the OC's.
Chapter 7: Cordillera
No sooner had the Day rolled out its scarf in the sky, a plane was seen emerging from the forest. It was heading towards Cordillera, hoping to arrive in a city carved out of the mountain.
The pilot was speaking into her headset, alerting Loakan Airport that she was almost there. The lone male passenger was taking pictures of the fiery sunrise outside. The youngest passenger was fast asleep in her chair, warmed by a hand-woven blanket.
The little girl gently stirred. "Inay, are we going to pick strawberries today?" she asked. "No, anak. Have you forgotten that harvest is in February?" "Oh, I did."
"Don't worry, Lucia. We'll attend a wedding at midday. If Roderich doesn't mind, we'll stay late for the feast." Paulita said.
A native wedding? I have never seen such a custom before. Well then, I must see all of it. "No, I don't mind. Please, I would like to see all of the rituals." Roderich answered. "Get your camera ready. There is nothing like a tribal wedding here in this country." Paulita replied.
"Inay, Kuya Roddy has to wear the traditional clothes, right? Minus the regular clothes?" Lucia asked, smirking. Paulita's ears became red. "No, my dear. I don't want to give him a bad case of culture shock."
The digits on the onboard clock showed that 7 hours had passed after midnight.
Bright rows of sunflowers as big as dinner plates faced Roderich as he walked towards the summer residence of the President. Children were carousing in Wright Park. Adults were having picnics. The more streetwise people haggled in the thrift shops, hoping for a bargain. The scene was wrapped in the smell of pines.
"Do you want to ride a horse, Kuya Roddy?" Lucia asked. "No, Lucia. I've rode on many horses already." "But, what are we going to do while Inay's buying supplies?" she pouted.
"Take me around Baguio, perhaps?"
"If you can catch me!"
Roderich was stunned to see Lucia already riding a tall white mare. They took off like a bolt. With no other recourse, he ran after them, much to the amusement of the locals and many tourists.
"Lucia, get off that horse this instant!" he commanded. "No can do, Kuya Roddy. You want a tour of Baguio? This is how it's done!" her laughter was carried by a gust of wind.
A few minutes and a lot of slopes later, Lucia ordered the horse to stop and jumped off. Roderich was panting and sweating even if he was in the coldest city in the Philippines.
"Where on earth are you taking me, Lucia?"
He looked at the sign. Burnham Park…ah, a mark on the city carved out of the mountain by Americans seeking comfort from the heat of the lowlands.
She led him to a man-made lake. "Let's take a boat, Kuya!" With a sigh, Roderich entered the boat with Lucia and started rowing.
Bright flowers bloomed on the shores and some trees dipped their tendrils into the murky water. Couples were being cheesy. Whole families struggled into boats. Some tourists accidentally dropped things into the deep water.
"Well, I have to admit, Lucia, this isn't a bad way to see Baguio. It's a wonderful city. What else do these mountain ranges have in store for me?" Roderich asked, rowing to shore. "We'll show you some mummies and hanging coffins…we'll climb a mountain, of course! I could buy you some purple yam, or ube. It's really good!" Lucia was almost bouncing on the boat.
"That would be wonderful, Lucia," a small smile crept up on the Austrian's face, "Would you mind if we rode that horse of yours back home?"
Lucia almost caused a landslide with her joyful squeal.
Caves and mountains are significant to Filipino tribes.
Austria's camera was snapping here and there, appalled by the sight before him. He had seen the hanging coffins on cliffs but none were like these. Preserved bodies were staring at him with an unsettling serenity. The mummies were cradled in hollow "caskets" of pine wood and covered with richly decorated cloth. Some mummies had blue lines on what remained of their skin.
All of the mummies had their knees tucked close to their hearts yet their hands were placed in different ways.
"Many years ago, these caves were robbed. Thankfully, the government intervened. These days, I can rest easy knowing that many great men and women can rest in peace." Paulita said.
"Ah, that's why this area was heavily fenced." Austria said, nodding.
"That's not the only reason. Come here." Paulita called Roderich closer to her and Lucia. She gestured to a heavily-tattooed mummy. It was mostly intact. The cadaver's arms were folded near its face, giving it the appearance of prayer. It was dressed in the elaborate clothes of a tribal chief. The fabric seemed fairly new.
"He was a great warrior and hunter, as was expected from the leaders of Ibaloi tribes. Those tattoos are an indication of his rank. Roderich, I would like you to meet Apo Annu, the mummy who found his way home after so many years. Apo Annu," Paulita started talking in a language so different from the dialects he had heard over the last few days.
Roderich, being well-versed in the manners of the high society, gave a bow to the mummy. "He was stolen from this cave in 1918. He became an attraction in a circus…in Manila, no less!" Paulita looked genuinely offended.
"I'm sorry, Apo Annu. Let the scoundrel who took you away rot in hell." Roderich said. "But he is home. An antique collector decided to turn him over to us in 1984. The people gave him a new set of clothes before letting him rest here. The townsmen here were plagued with calamities when he was brought out of this cave. To respect their wishes, this cave is protected. It's one of the last bastions of the old ways." Paulita said, putting strings of beads near the casket.
"Kuya Roddy, he wants to talk to you but he doesn't want me and Inay to hear you…" Lucia said.
The aristocrat was stupefied. "Dead men do not talk." "You were open to living in a simple hut and wandering in places where people wallow in poverty. Accepting the offer of a spirit to communicate with you should be much easier." Paulita said. "Now close your eyes and allow the spirits of the mountain to talk to you."
"Come, Kuya, I will help you speak and understand their language." Lucia set her thumb on her tongue and transferred it on Roderich's closed lips. She held his ears and uttered an incantation. Before long, the aristocrat was lost in the realm of spirits.
He saw a man sitting on a red woven rug, wearing a long loincloth, an open woven shirt and a heavy cape. All garments had that same shade of blood-red, sometimes joined by black, yellow and blue threads. Atop his head sat a headdress three times as tall as his own head. Emerald and black feathers decorated his head. Every inch of his skin was covered in blue lines and shapes. He also wore intricate beadwork on his neck, dangling down to his loincloth.
"Sit, young man."
Roderich looked down and was surprised to see himself in the exact same clothes as the chieftain. However, he did not have the tattoos. He stepped back and sat on the rug under his feet. Lucia and Paulita were nowhere to be found.
"I am not like Spain. I was not, and never will I be, interested in colonizing the Philippines." He said in his defense. The chieftain raised his palm. Roderich, in spite of being a higher entity than the man, promptly apologized.
"I know you mean no harm. Now, let me tell you about a dream I had. It was very odd. It was unlike any dream. I believe Kabunian sent it and only after 500 harvests would its message be heard." Apo Annu said. "Speak, Apo Annu. I am listening."
"There was a black eagle with two heads, both with headdresses. But there was a greater headdress crowning both heads. You, men of the West, seem to be fond of two-headed eagles. One claw held a golden ball. The other held a sword. I never saw an eagle so decorated with shields, necklaces and crosses."
Roderich's ears suddenly perked.
"The two heads split away and turned into two eagles. They fought and their feathers fell in gusts of wind. When they stopped fighting, all the shields, crosses, necklaces and crowns fell off. They left all of that and started towards the sun…together. I am sure you came here looking for answers but this is not a complete answer."
"Thank you, Apo Annu. I understand your dream."
"There was another one, Roderich. Again, they were eagles. One had a white head, talons and a beak of gold and a brown coat. The other one was one that I would see very often in these mountains. They were separated by the sea."
"Brown feathers…white belly…gray talons and blue eyes?" Austria asked, thinking of Alapaap. "Yes, a lovely bird isn't it?" "Indeed."
"These two eagles turned into beautiful beings. The eagle with silver talons turned into a woman who looked awfully like the good spirit who visits these mountains. Yes, that woman who brought you here. The eagle with golden talons turned into a man whom I thought was a god. His hair was like the sun, and his eyes were the sky. There is none like him. He and the woman turned into eagles again and flew towards each other. In the middle, they turned towards the woman's land and built a nest. It ended there." Apo Annu retold.
"I will try to understand that other dream, Apo Annu. Thank you for accepting me into your land." "You are always welcome in this cave, young man."
A misty haze took over Roderich when he opened his eyes.
"That was quick…less than 10 minutes." Lucia remarked. "I thought it lasted for a century." Roderich said. "I will not ask what Apo Annu told you. However, he loves telling stories about his dreams. Come now, we might be late to the wedding." Paulita said, leading Roderich and Lucia out of the cave.
Before leaving, Roderich gave the mummy one last look and a knowing smile. I understand both dreams perfectly, Apo Annu. But you do not know that she is no spirit but this whole nation.
The trio crossed provinces and arrived in Banaue. As much as Roderich would not have liked to climb mountains, he decided to give it a try. After all, some people claimed that to climb Philippine peaks would merit you a glimpse of heaven. Also, there was no other way to reach the wedding venue.
Those tribesmen climbed these mountains barefoot and in loincloths. You have no reason to complain when you are wearing proper hiking shoes.
"You'll climb barefoot?" Roderich said in astonishment when he saw mother and daughter putting their shoes in their woven bags. "Of course. We have done so for centuries." Paulita replied. "You may keep your shoes on."
He nodded as they started up the slopes. Every now and then he was snapping at the view. Clear blue skies and mountains turned into terraces filled with rice plants. Those terraces had weathered two thousand years.
The grains were the descendant of ancient rice plants. The reworked grains of the West were not welcome. The old ways here were strong, in spite of the changing times.
As they walked, Paulita told him stories about the Ifugao.
"They believed in more than 1,500 gods, spirits and other creatures. To them, the universe was divided into six: one was below the ground, one was this very Earth, and the other four were above the Earth. Animal sacrifices accompanied almost every rite to gain the favor of the gods."
In many other regions, the natives stayed in the plains to be closer to the Earth. Here, the natives moved up the mountains not only for protection from invaders…but also to be closer to Heaven, thought Roderich.
"They thought that all the successes and failures of man depended on the gods…"
Roderich found himself listening less and watching the world more. He could see the wooden huts dwarfed by the heavy thatch roofs. Carven images of deities decorated the doors. Chickens and pigs roamed around freely.
Small children climbed up and down the slopes with ease, even enjoying it. Some of them were in modern clothing, but still wearing beads.
He was only snapped from his observations by Lucia's voice.
"Kuya Rooooooooddy! I'll take you to the house of one of the people here. Just put these over your clothing." She said, holding out a parcel as she introduced him to the father of the groom. Surprisingly, he could still understand their language.
"Come in, sir. I did not expect the Motherland to attend the tanig. Neither did I expect her to bring another nation." The middle-aged man smiled, speaking in accented English. These people were traditional but somehow exposed to modern ways.
"I am amazed by this country, sir. I'm sorry for being an added expense to this wedding. If your family wants it, I could leave so as not to be a bother." Austria said using his newly-bestowed gift of language, stooping low to enter the house.
The man almost fell down laughing. "Lucia! You brought the perfect guest! And he can speak our language! I'd marry him if I were a woman. What's his name?"
"Roderich Edelstein, the personification of Austria." Lucia supplied and took her leave. "You brought a prince?" he asked, almost stupefied.
"No, no. I am not a prince."
"If you say so, Mr. Edelstein. I am Geronimo, by the way. Please, make yourself at home. I'll stay outside while you put on those clothes." The man went out to join the merriment.
Roderich opened the parcel and was surprised by what he saw. Crimson fabrics with blue, yellow and black threads greeted his eyes. A loincloth, a cape, an open shirt, multiple strings of beads and a tall headdress were inside.
Just like Apo Annu's! He dressed as some of the more modern locals did. He wore all of the garments over his white shirt and loose black pants. To fit in with the traditional setting, he removed his shoes and placed them at the door.
He looked at himself in the mirror, amazed at how an outfit could change him completely. Just as he was admiring the effort put into the detailing, Geronimo opened the door.
"Looking good, Roderich! Come out now, Paulita and Lucia want to see you. I'm sure the community would too. Foreigners rarely wear our clothing with such grace." He said, gesturing towards the center of the village.
The Austrian hesitated; all those brown and black eyes seemed to be judging him as he came out. He expected to be laughed at. Of course he would stick out like a sore thumb. He was too pale to wear these vibrant colors and many nations doubted if he was a real man.
He looked for Paulita, wishing that people wouldn't notice him. There she was, chatting with the mother of the bride. She spotted him and excused herself from the bride's mother.
"Inay, this is Roderich, my friend from Austria. Roderich, this is Nanay Lina." Paulita said. Roderich stared at her from head to toe. She was also decked in the traditional costume, one befitting the chieftain's daughter. To him, though, she could have been an ancient goddess. Wearing a miniature version was Lucia, who was playing around with the children.
The people were suddenly silenced when an elderly man with skin as dark as kamagong wood and snow-white hair came in, accompanied by the loud clanging of the gangsa (flat gong). A pig squealed behind him, ready for sacrifice.
"Mumbaki…" Paulita muttered. Priest. Roderich translated in his head.
The priest was chanting an epic passed on by mouth through generations and generations of Ifugaos. He was accompanied by other priests singing praises to the old gods.
The pig was set on a wooden slab and slaughtered by the priests. Roderich was miffed by the apparent cruelty, but he had no choice but to watch. This is their culture, not mine. The gangsas continued in their cacophony.
"They will look at the pig's bile. If it is full and in good condition, the marriage will take place as planned. If not, they must wait another year." Paulita whispered to him.
"It is full! It is full!" the mumbaki shouted, much to the cheer of the townspeople.
The couple enjoyed the traditional rites, but they were Catholic, so they did not offer two water buffaloes and eleven pigs. Instead, a priest officiated the ceremony. Of course, he did not wear the loincloth and headdress but he forewent his stole for a more fitting one woven for him by the local women.
Roderich couldn't help but compare his own wedding to the festivities unfolding. His was conventional yet extravagant. This one seemed so natural. Nothing was forced. Even the traditions were not imposed. The couple decided on this kind of celebration.
Mothers were busy cooking. Fathers were slaughtering animals. Young women and men were practicing their dances. Huge clay pots were balanced on the women's heads while the men were jumping and crying out as if in battle.
At sundown, fires were lit while the people feasted on carabao meat, chicken and pork during the caqao.
"Paulita, what kind of meat is this? It's quite…rubbery." Roderich said, picking at his food. "Ah, that's carabao meat. If you don't want it, I'll get you some pork." Paulita said. "No, no. It's a good kind of rubbery…I've never tasted buffalo meat."
"Very well." Paulita said, pouring tapuy (rice wine) into his cup.
"To Miguel and Urduja." She said. "To the preservation of your cultural heritage." He said.
"To first times like carabao meat and rice wine."
"To finding answers."
"To love pure and eternal."
And they drank the rice wine.
Soon, Roderich found the reds blurring and firelight hazy. People were dancing around the fire in elaborate clothes. Men and women played on gongs and flutes. Old men sang of the past. Shouts were heard as men danced with spears and stomped their feet, mimicking tribal wars. Women flipped their fingers back and forth in the simple dances they performed.
The grounds soon cleared up. "The Motherland will dance! Miguel and Urduja, both of you are in so much luck. Whoever is up there approves of your marriage!" someone exclaimed. The gangsas, the carabao horns, the nose flutes and the buzzing bungkaka changed their tunes.
The music started out slow, with Paulita entering the circle in full regalia, with bangles up her arms and ankles. She walked elegantly, in spite of the ten clay pots of decreasing size resting on her lovely head.
The villagers looked at her in awe as she kept her arms stiff and her fingers erect. Her arms did not move but her feet were taking small, quick steps on the cold ground. She spun around quickly, making Roderich hold his breath. Did she glue those onto her headdress?
The music played faster and she kept in time with it, weaving her arms in intricate patterns. Her feet kept circling the fire. She then took off her cape and brandished it, like a rooster would to its feathers.
"She is not just doing the dances of our tribe. This is one complete mixture of all Cordillera dances!" someone whispered to Roderich. "I see. Are those real clay pots?" "Of course!" Upon hearing that, Roderich wondered how many pots were broken by these people before they learned how to dance that way.
"Kuya Roddy, for this part of the dance, she needs a partner. This is the part where she reenacts the courtship of Miguel and Urduja." Lucia said. "Why are you telling me this? There are more suitable men who should dance with your mother. I don't think I can even dance in this outfit!" he complained.
Geronimo asked the elderly musicians to halt. "It is time to introduce a very special guest to our community. He came all the way from Europe…a land of unfathomable distance. He has opened himself to a world that is different from his own. Tonight, he attends our feast; he eats our food, drinks our wine and wears our clothes. In short, he is and will always be one of us. Brothers and sisters, I welcome Roderich Edelstein, the personification of Austria." He said, gesturing to the nation.
The clanging of the instruments became more raucous as he was pushed to the circle together with Paulita. He knew that to perform a waltz here would be most out-of-place, so he decided to mimic whatever he saw from the men who performed.
He gazed at her eyes in the firelight. They are brown, not green. Just because I cannot have her, it does not mean that I should look for a substitute, one that is very much in love at that. His movements were unsure and unsteady, like a child trying to walk for the first time.
Why does she strike me so much? Did Spain teach her how to use those eyes? If yes, I will kill him when I go back to Europe. He brandished his cape, like a matador teasing a bull. Paulita did the same, hitting his wrist. He spun around, trying to wrap her in the cape, but she fled from him with a coy smile and ten clay pots intact. The music was dying down. How would they end this dance?
Another man came up to him and put a clay pot atop his headdress. He tried to remember the days when books were balanced on the head to teach royalty how to walk. In the same way, he strode confidently, arms raised and wrists flicking as he approached her. When she stood in front of him, he ceremoniously put down his pot and she did the same. They twirled towards each other and ended with a bow, presenting each other with pots.
The neighborhood was at its noisiest when they ended. Roderich wiped the sweat from his brow and gave back the pot. Paulita started saying goodbye to the couple and their relatives. Lucia took home some of the food that the villagers presented to them. They were also given beadwork. Roderich's costume was given to him as a gift.
"I believe the activities of the day have taken their toll on both of you," Paulita said, cradling Lucia in her arms. The girl was fast asleep. "We will be in better lodgings shortly." "But it took us hours to climb this mountain? How are we going to get to an inn? It would be past midnight by the time we reach level ground." He said, knowing that there was no electricity nor were there paved roads.
"Hush, Roderich. I always tell you to be open." And with a wave of her hand, he fell into a deep sleep.
I can sleep here forever. Lovely temperature and bright days…comfortable bedding and…COMFORTABLE BEDDING?
Roderich bolted upright, only to see Lucia in the room, gazing out the window, as if expecting something. "Lucia, where is your mother? Where are we?" he almost demanded. The child hushed him with a very irritated look.
All he remembered were his eyelids drooping after a wave of Paulita's hand. Now, he was in an inn with huge windows overlooking the scenic Cordillera mountains. Pine forests grew on the neighboring slopes. Just as he was savoring the cool wind and the view, a rumbling sound shook the ground.
"Lucia, what is the meaning of this? Don't tell me there's an earthquake!" Roderich cowered in fear. "Noooo! You're silly, Kuya! Just get your camera. This is going to be awesome!" Lucia said, laughing. Upon hearing the word 'awesome', Roderich was startled but he got the camera anyway and waited for whatever Lucia said would come.
"This is not amusing, Lucia. What are we waiting for? A landslide? A rock avalanche?" he asked, fearful of their position. "Here it is!" Lucia cried out.
The rumbling sound in the ground became louder and louder until the sound brought shiny black hooves slamming on the ground. Manes flew in the wind, proudly displaying the beasts. Their coats varied from mottled to chestnut, and the occasional white mare or black stallions racing along.
They were unbridled, without shoes, saddles or reins. They moved as a single entity with neighs and grunts forming a huge cacophony. They were not as beautiful as Austria's Lipizzaner horses, but they were born wild and free, masters of their own fate.
"Kuya Roddy, welcome to Sagada."
May 5
A tropical country such as the Philippines was the last place where I would expect to find a pine forest, but there it was in the region. The weather is mild, just like in my own land.
I once dismissed magic as man's way of creating illusions to put himself at an advantage over others but today, I saw how a whole place could exude a unique aura.
Coffins hung from the cliffs as a way of being closer to a deity in death. Forests were untouched by woodcutters. The mountains were virtually unexplored. Waterfalls poured into crystal-clear rivers and boulders thrown down from the mountains. Being at the peak of the mountains showed me the clouds.
As a nation, I don't know when I would take my final breath, but at that moment, I thought I found heaven on earth.
Looking over the journal entry, Roderich smiled with satisfaction. They were to leave this quaint little inn tomorrow. From the mountains, he would go down to the field. He would surely miss the mild weather and the rich heritage of the people, but something was telling him that he must see the whole nation.
With resounding battles cries, the thumping of soldiers' boots, the noise of ships entering the ports and the whirring of airplane blades, the plains of Luzon were patiently waiting for him to set foot on its grounds.
Landslide – the roads leading to Baguio are prone to landslides due to being mountainous and the logging and mining operations which happen there. The highways are very scenic. You can see deep ravines and a few hanging bridges here and there. You might see a waterfall or two.
Mummies – the Ibaloi tribe mummified their dead by making the deceased drink a lot of salted water, tie them on a chair and then "roast" them over a fire until the fluids dry out. The Northern tribes of Luzon are very, very traditional. Even if they don't mummify their dead anymore, they still slaughter pigs and check their bile for certain rituals. The rituals are a sight to see, especially when they're in traditional costume.
Apo Annu – pretty much, his story was retold here (except for the dreams part). My headcanon Piri-tan practices magic, believes in mystical mumbo-jumbo and talks to spirits and all that cool stuff. XD
Good spirit – The old tribes lived as if every parcel of land was their own nation. They were not aware of a united Philippine nation until probably the American colonization. Also, someone like Paulita could be mistaken as a deity because of her eternal youth.
Look at the Austro-Hungarian coat of arms. NOW.
Tanig – wedding ceremony; Caqao – traditional feast
I based the marriage on a modern-day couple's way of preserving their cultural heritage. Such moves are impressive to me, considering how commercialized weddings are these days. But, hey, who wouldn't want to get married with the Banawe Rice Terraces just a stone's throw away from the venue?
References:
http : / litera1no4 . tripod . com / ifugao_frame . html
http : / www . travelsmart . net / article / 100796 /
National Commission for Culture and the Arts website
Youtube videos of Ifugao festivals