Ifugao Daze
I'm lucky enough to be able to say that waking up to the sounds of the city is a relatively novel thing for me right now :) For the past 6 days or so, I've been surrounded by mountains, rice terraces, Ifugaos, giant wild boars named Pumba, all kinds of rice wine, and just about the best crew ever. I predicted I'd have a hangover from this whole 6-day shoot/hiking extravaganza and I was right, the whole insane beauty of Ifugao still overwhelms me, and I can't even see it anymore.
I didn't take a lot of photos to prove my point, and the photos I do have don't really do justice to how breathtaking Ifugao was (a.k.a they were shitty photos :D). There was always just this feeling caught in my throat that made me stop and stare, try to absorb this whole, perfect, living and breathing image I was faced with. I couldn't do anything else. And of course I couldn't do it, not completely, but I guess the trying was enough if the feeling it gave is anything to go by. It was like taking a deep, deep, deep breath of fresh air. I miss it already.
I miss everyone already. I'm kind of a loser like that. Separation anxiety always, always gets to me.
I miss Ifugao:
- because of the crazily challenging hikes. Who knew that my first ever experience with rock climbing would be with real rocks, in a hugging-the-stone-wall, hoping-not-to-die kind of way? Give me a sec to be proud of myself for not falling on my face the entire time.
- and the ridiculous locations we would set up at. The edges of cliffs, a narrow walkway facing a fucking steep drop, the tops of moving jeeps, etc, etc. :)
- because I have never been so creeped out in my LIFE. And I liked it. See, we were shooting at this flat rock face with two houses on it, and we wanted to shoot the one house, just to have footage of native Ifugao houses, y'know? The guy from the other house goes and says, oh my dad lives there, he's really sick and he doesn't go out, but I'll go in and talk to him anyway. He gets a flashlight, faces the house and talks to his dad inside. For the sake of politeness, we ask if it's okay too, just so he can hear it from us. It would've been fine except... NO ONE WAS IN THE FUCKING HOUSE. NO ONE. A taste of Ifugao spirituality for you, right there.
- cause I learned so, so much. Everyday was a new lesson in Ifugao culture, either through interviews, or the sight of it firsthand, or the experience of it first hand. Seeing pigs ritually killed two times in one week might be my limit, but it was fucking fascinating all the same. We kept on worrying we didn't have enough coverage, cause their culture was so vast.
- and the people I was with. The OnMedia crew (despite them treating me like a bunso and all the teasing that entails) and all the people we met: definitely people I'd wanna work with again in the future and be friends with forever and ever. HAHA. The perfect people to have chill inumans with :)
God, I'm lucky. Feeling gratefulness to the tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers :D
I didn't take a lot of photos to prove my point, and the photos I do have don't really do justice to how breathtaking Ifugao was (a.k.a they were shitty photos :D). There was always just this feeling caught in my throat that made me stop and stare, try to absorb this whole, perfect, living and breathing image I was faced with. I couldn't do anything else. And of course I couldn't do it, not completely, but I guess the trying was enough if the feeling it gave is anything to go by. It was like taking a deep, deep, deep breath of fresh air. I miss it already.
I miss everyone already. I'm kind of a loser like that. Separation anxiety always, always gets to me.
I miss Ifugao:
- because of the crazily challenging hikes. Who knew that my first ever experience with rock climbing would be with real rocks, in a hugging-the-stone-wall, hoping-not-to-die kind of way? Give me a sec to be proud of myself for not falling on my face the entire time.
- and the ridiculous locations we would set up at. The edges of cliffs, a narrow walkway facing a fucking steep drop, the tops of moving jeeps, etc, etc. :)
- because I have never been so creeped out in my LIFE. And I liked it. See, we were shooting at this flat rock face with two houses on it, and we wanted to shoot the one house, just to have footage of native Ifugao houses, y'know? The guy from the other house goes and says, oh my dad lives there, he's really sick and he doesn't go out, but I'll go in and talk to him anyway. He gets a flashlight, faces the house and talks to his dad inside. For the sake of politeness, we ask if it's okay too, just so he can hear it from us. It would've been fine except... NO ONE WAS IN THE FUCKING HOUSE. NO ONE. A taste of Ifugao spirituality for you, right there.
- cause I learned so, so much. Everyday was a new lesson in Ifugao culture, either through interviews, or the sight of it firsthand, or the experience of it first hand. Seeing pigs ritually killed two times in one week might be my limit, but it was fucking fascinating all the same. We kept on worrying we didn't have enough coverage, cause their culture was so vast.
- and the people I was with. The OnMedia crew (despite them treating me like a bunso and all the teasing that entails) and all the people we met: definitely people I'd wanna work with again in the future and be friends with forever and ever. HAHA. The perfect people to have chill inumans with :)
God, I'm lucky. Feeling gratefulness to the tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers :D