Good morning and welcome to Banaue! Still a bit sleepy, we stepped out of our refrigerator on wheelsaircon-bus. On the road we got to know excellent Buko (Coconut) Pie as well as four Parisian students on their vacation before their exchange semester in Taipeh starts. Together we decided to hire a guide for a two-days hiking trip through the rice fields.
Before setting off, though, we enjoyed a nice Filipino breakfast (rice, fried egg, ham and a banana). We also had to put on our lightest or most rainproof clothes, and make sure all our stuff was wrapped into plastic bags, because there was a light but steady drizzle outside. It couldn’t lower our motivation, though, and soon we all sat in a jeepney and were brought up the hills, close to Batad.
The narrow and jolty road ended about four kilometers from Batad. From that point onwards, there was us, the trail below, the rain above and the nature around. About one hour we walked, then we could see them: The famous rice-fields of Batad. It really is an amazing sight. The small village of Batad is built at the end of a steep, V-shaped valley. All around the village, the hills are striped with rice terrasses. Hundreds of walls (just stones stacked on top of each other, with no concrete or plaster to fix them) hold up the soil and form narrow but flat patches where rice can be grown. Water is of crucial importance to rice, and it’s led in a sophisticated manner from the top terraces to the lower ones and down to the bottom of the valley.
Most rice fields were empty at that time because the rice will be planted in March. In May, the fields will be green. The ripe rice will give them a yellow hue in September, when the rice will be harvested. If there is enough water, the fields will be planted anew, otherwise they lie idle during winter. Each rice field is owned and cared for by a family of the village, so every inhabitant has to work on the fields from time to time. Our guide assured me that there is a lot of work involved in growing rice. These days, however, the fields only produce about 35% of the rice eaten in the region. The reason may lie in the non-use of artificial fertilisers, in the population growth or the fact that tourism has become another very important source of income.
In Batad, we sat down for and excellent lunch featuring rice (obviously), vegetables, curry chicken and excellent local robusta coffee. We had the chance to see traditional houses: very functional buildings consisting of three floors. The basement is simply the ground and is storage space for everything that has to be kept dry from the rain. The first floor, standing on piles about one and a half meters high, is the living area. It’s only four times four meters wide. There is a stove on one side where a fire is kept for kooking. The other walls are lined with beds, and the centre is an empty place used for living, eating, … The smoke from the fire leaves through a hole in the wall, but also penetrates to the second floor, where it keeps the stored rice dry and free from fungi and animals. Outside, the house is decorated with bones of pigs, monkeys, birds and other animals. Each of those was killed in a ritual held at many special occasions. It’s also a status symbol: rich families can afford many rituals and thus have many animal skulls to decorate their walls and roof.
The next part of the trek led us directly through the rice fields. We were walking on the stone walls with the abyss on one side and the flooded rice field on the other, thanks God nobody slipped. But even without stepping into the water, our shoes or sandals were soaked by now. The heavy backpacks also took their toll on us, and we advanced slower than we had thought. Halfway through the afternoon, we decided that we couldn’t make it to Pula as planned, but we would stay one village earlier, in Cambulo. We arrived there wet, tired but happy.
In Cambulo, several houses offer beds for travellers. These are more modern brickwall or wooden houses with a corrugated iron roof. Our rooms were surprisingly spacious and comfortable. The shower was one of those that feel cold and uncomfortable at first; not everybody is used to pouring water over one’s head with a scoop. But once I was dried and wearing warm clothes, the feeling was most rewarding. Dinner was once more traditional, consisting of rice and vegetables, served to the light of a petroleum lamp (electricity has not arrived (yet?) in Cambulo). After the meal our eyelids felt surprisingly heavy, so we grabbed a candle or pocket lamp, brushed our teeth and fell asleep soon afterwards.