My Feet on the Ground

I started my year by staying in a farmer’s house in Ifugao, Philippines, last 2011. It has been my perennial curiosity each time I stare at rice fields from my bus window on the way to some province. And it all became possible through the SITMo (Save the Ifugao Movement) a group that aims to educate tourists through immersion in their natural farming cycle to aid revive their disappearing identity, the rice terraces. It is a progressive problem as the newer generations migrate in the city, leaving their own lands arid. Farmer Grandma Maria Galeon from SITMo was our host. She was accommodating, caring, a lover of natural environment, and an educator of life.
For days I lived like Grandma Maria. My legs burrowed the thick mud, shaped the rice paddies with my bare hands, and planted rice. I ate what they eat and did what they do. I won't forget the bat we ate, it's bitter taste and how it struggled as it's grilled alive. I was a visitor who couldn't say no to this hospitality. She treated me not as a tourist, but like a curious granddaughter trying to learn everything for the first time. I realized I was a student of history and good values. I was a student of what real hard work and perseverance was. And as Grandma Maria shared her sentiments on how modernity is affecting them, I thought how sad it must be for the elders to see the land that they and their ancestors cared for depreciate. It heightened my value for balance, simplicity and culture.
I wish to be more engaged in Ifugao someday, whether be an educator or an active member of SITMo. For now, I’m glad to have shown their importance through my pictures. And if life will lead me to more distant places, my stories of Ifugao will serve as a constant reminder of what I am here for—to remind people of a beauty that should never be lost. And I hope the places I’ll get to visit someday find in me a worthy traveler who’s always out to share and preserve their beauty exactly the way I saw and experienced them.