Banaue

Rice terraces, of course—and much more.

The terraces date back as long as 5,000 years—but likely those were house terraces, and terrace cultivation developed much later, as more people moved into the mountains and had to eke a living out of poor soil on steep slopes—a hard existence. At first, the staple was gabi (taro). Then the Spanish introduced camote (sweet potato), which tastes better than gabi. Then at last came rice—the preferred food. But, at the turn of the 20th century, when most of the terraces were already well developed, only the wealthiest families owned enough terraces so that they could eat rice much of the year—camote remained the important staple, although not the preferred one. But a diet consisting primarily of camote or gabi is deficient in several minerals—and inclines the consumers to goiter. Thus, the mountain people had to deal with the rigors of the climate, the steepness of the mountains, and a poor diet resulting from the environment in which they lived.

As a result, a hardy group of people evolved, short and sturdy. Short because muscles have greater power if their attachments aren’t too far apart—and power is essential to get up and down the hills. Sturdy because otherwise they didn’t survive. Last year I was hiking with my son and a couple in their early-mid 60s—and by us powered a much older woman, carrying perhaps 30 kilos of produce. Phew! Heredity was definitely on her side. My recent ancestors have had it a lot easier—survival wasn’t such a problem, and the fittest were a lot less fit than people in the Cordillera must be.

As the photographer, Eduardo Masferré said, "The terrain here is hard. These terraces that they made, that is because of their industry and the need to grow rice in order to live. In all of that there is something to be admired."

To survive, the people also had to maintain a determined spirit that saw them through famine, flood, fire, and often fatal head-hunting raids. (This always sounds terribly barbaric to the average westerner—but try comparing it to gang warfare in, say, New York—it’s the same thing, one clan versus the other, with the same result.)

One of the reasons I like spending time in the Cordillera is precisely because the people are defiantly independent—no blatant kowtowing, and you’d better show respect—or expect consequences when you least want them.

Living in far-flung areas remains tough. But in Banaue proper and surrounds, access to jobs and services has allowed many people an easier life. Farming the terraces by comparison is a heavy chore. Hence, many terraces are being converted to house terraces, and others lie fallow as their walls deteriorate. A pity from our point of view as we stand by and admire the landscape—but would you actually want to do that back-breaking work?

Again, "progress" marches on and "tradition" suffers in a trend that will continue unless someone finds a good way to make the terraces remunerative (other than, say, marijuana). So—go to Banaue now, while there are still some terraces around—or hike out of Banaue for really spectacular scenery. And enjoy the people, who remain independent in spirit and action.