chronicles of an igorot in australia. a photoblog in parts, this is intended as a diary, travelogue, memoir, journal, palimpsest, igorot blog, accounts of misadventures, running battles or whatever it turns out to be. there might be souls out there with common interests. do post a comment.
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Saturday, 27 October 2012
Away in Kafagway
Images of Baguio in 2012.
Some of the landmarks of the old town still stand.
But while the old landmarks stand, the new landmarks sit. They are on prominent display everywhere now. Jeepney shelters have been sequestered to protect them. They attract tourists from all corners. Tourists that come on their wings. They fly in from all around. They make such a buzz.
They should bus all them attractions to city hall. I bet the council will come up with a solution quicksmart. Basura!
Ahh but these buzzing tourists drive me crazy. So I went to the outskirts of town. Climbed up on to a mountain.
I saw below me a ribbon of highway.
I saw above me, an ancient skyway.
And in the distance, a golden valley, or used to be.
Now there are mansions on the hills, and we're stuck in the ghettos.
In this land that was made made for them and us.
I spied with my little eye, some barangay beginning with I. Ibilig, Ibenget... Itcitira.
I retraced my steps. The ribbon of highway is getting shrouded.
And the welcoming ancient skyway is saying do not overstay.
But I beheld the invasion.
The urban sprawl from Irisan to Loakan.
Baguio has been divided and conquered by conurbation.
From Camp John Hay to Camp Allen.
O whispering pines, wherefore art thou?
Thy earth balls are rooted.
Pine needles, the sting is gone.
See Quirino Hill? There's room there still. for another sm.
I tried another vantage.
But the old town still looks the same. As I looked down to the plains.
The old pine trees that I used to play under are gone.