walkin' bontoc blues 2014

One time friends I had the blues, went walking around ole Bontoc town. Bontoc town, Bontoc town.

As I walked down yon Bontoc mountain, on a warm summer day, I remembered some friends I met recently. I guess you could call them 'a recent acquaintance'. They're guards at a border somewhere. One asked: 'where you goin' man'? In a most sincere and honest tone, I said 'Ischi man'. And so then they detained me for a couple of hours or so. But that's a story for another time.

Isna man. Bontoc.
The old town looked the same, same old buildings, some new.
Like a broken record, the same old lords. Jesus and Coca-cola have long arrived in town.

As I walked down the streets of the old town, I felt eyes on me.

People at the sides watching, looking. 

Sitting down, squatting.

Some upright, upstanding outstanding. 

None downright forthright straight-shooting...

Some had cameras - aiming.

A policeman approached me.

Me: 'No officer I was not jay walking.'
Pulis: 'But you were dawdling, under-speeding, slowing down the parade.'

'I used to hear that a lot' I said. 'Back when I was running - sorta. But I've retired from running,' I explained. 'It's too tiring.'
'Excuses excuses' Mr Police said. 'That's no excuse for an ignoramus. Get a move on.'
Did he just call me a moose? - but it’s not really about me.
There was a parade in town.

And the press and the paparazzi were there in force.

There were floats,

Kids,

Street dancing,

and dancing in the street.

Pretty girls all in a row lined up- marching in a pretty face contest. 

I heard the crowd roar.

The main attraction however was not the long-legged, I mean two-legged beauties parading down the street, but the four-legged canines walking the lines. The crowd roared louder-er.

I was able to take a couple of images which I thought captured the stark innocence and wisdom, and genuine realism and uncertainty of the times.

Ahh we live in interesting times indeed.

Ahh but the show must go on. The beauty pageant, the fashion and cosmetics contest. Empowerment? Oh to live in the enlightenment, where reason prevails over bad tradition. I'd take pragmatic young inventors competitions over pointless ms universe contests any day or year.

What's that you say? Na, si Polichay akhes. 'You might as well be in the dark ages.'
Right, but how many beauty queens, models and movie stars have improved the lot of many of their kailian? I'd rather these young girls learned medicine or science or organic farming or medicine so they can look after me in my old age. Oooops, so it's all about me after all.

The beat goes on. And so does the parade.

But sometimes I march to a different beat. Like the pattong or gangsa.

So I’m off to join the march of the scurrying rodents, the rat race.

Bontoc 2014.
There's no prettier sight than looking back
On a town you left behind.

Sagada caves

Thou shall not move thy neighbor's landmark...

In the 70s - yes in the last century, there was a song by a band called Eagles about a town in the Cordillera, and a girl named Diana. I think she's one of the girls on the truck.

The song goes something like:

'Cause Sagada peaceful easy feeling,
and Di, no you won't let me down...

I don't remember the rest of the song but I think it's called Lady Diana,
I mean a lady mondegreen or mondegreen.

Anyway you can see how peaceful Sagada is from these pictures. Not because it's a peace zone, but because it's a peaceful zone. See the young at play. When they get tired of their bikes they lady mondegreen.

Even cattle hold court - on the green or on the court. They had better look out they don't get caught.

An old church bell at St Mary's churchyard.

In the Cordillera there are many tall pines. 
I remember the old pine that we used to climb.
Young kids at play under the whispering pines.

How green nan payeo mi? - payeo da. Who painted the ricefields green?

Have a look and pay your respects, then let the departed in peace to rest.

These are the Sagada caves.

Enough said.

Bats stare down from the ceiling of one of the caverns.

Graffiti is desecration is taboo.

Deep in the caves, one may experience a rebirth.

Having thus earned a degree in caving, I proceeded to do some rock climbing-

to the top of Sagada stonehenge. Even Obama hasn't done that.

The pleasure and magic of reading

 Reading makes you free. It can make you sing - or howl.

Richard Feynman: The Pleasure of Finding Things Out

Richard Dawkins: The Magic of Reality

Harold Bloom: The Anatomy of Influence: Literature as a Way of Life

Deng Ming-Dao: The Lunar Tao

Rebecca Goldstein: 36 Arguments for the existence of god

Ani Choying Drolma: Singing for freedom

Howl: A Graphic Novel - Allen Ginsberg, Eric Drooker 

Eric Orton: The Cool Impossible

John Bingham and Jenny Hadfield: The New Runner

N.E. Renton: Renton’s Metaphors

Australian Wildlife - Bradt Travel Guide

Louise Egerton and Jiri Lochman: Wildlife of Australia

Griffith Review 43: Pacific Highways - Julianne Schultz and Lloyd Jones

Richard Feynman. The Pleasure of Finding Things Out

Richard Dawkins. The Magic of Reality

Kevin J. Anderson: War of the Worlds: Global Dispatches

Reading takes you to the highways and byways. It takes you running with wildlife in the backways, or takes you in a time machine around the world. Reading, it takes just like a taker.

H.G. Wells: The Time Machine

War of the Worldviews - Leonard Mlodinow and Deepak Chopra

Is God an Illusion?: The Great Debate Between Science and Spirituality - Deepak Chopra and Leonard Mlodinow

The Drunkard's Walk - Leonard Mlodinow

The healing power of meditation

Greil Marcus: Like A Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads

Bob Dylan by Greil Marcus: Writings 1968-2010 

The Love Letters of Dylan Thomas

Dylan Thomas: Under Milk Wood

Mark Twain: The Prince and the pauper

Ian MacEwan: Sweet Tooth

John LeCarre: A Perfect Spy

Reading lets you in the world of princes and paupers, spies, cops, and the dead;

fantasy, corruption, morality, mortality and reality.

Le Carre: Call for the dead

John Banville: Doctor Copernicus

Joyce Carol Oates: A Widow’s Story

Ian Rankin: The Black Book, The Impossible Dead,

The Complaints, Strip Jack & Tooth and Nail