The Igorots Agenda

Kabunian, God, who createth the universe

Provideth the Igorots a place to live on

To protect as stewards of nature

And where to gain and fill for thier lives

For their own culture as a nation

And for their own generations as lineage

This is a divine plan that no one

No law should ever try to destroy

By injustice, greed and apathy

endlessness

beyond the clouds in the sky
beyond the nights and days
beyond the confusions and illusions
and the unstable history of mankind
beyond the madness and lies
beyond conflicts between man and nature
beyond the apathy and empathy
beyond science and fantasy
there is a place of inexhaustible wonder
a place of unscathed reality and truth
and an endless tracks of flawless info
an infinite stack of love and wisdom
the source of knowledge and greatness
and a place of the absence of limit
a place of unbounded uppermost realm
it is the infinity that we stare upon
the infinity that one can either explore
or wait for the galaxy to reach another place
for another new era in the space

igorot gateway

i am from bunga and payeo-
i learned these facts when i was 5
when mother took me to besao for a visit.
as far as i could remember,
the bus traversed the halsema highway,
a long and winding road sculpted on the ridges
and slopes of mountains and hills
at the center of the land-locked cordillera central,
beautiful and striking sceneries of summer day
were painted with sunshine and fogs hues
on the magnificent canvas nature.
after hours we started going up until we reached
a place of persimons, pears and etags.
'twas my first time to eat persimon and pear,
and they were all gorged down through my mouth
smoothly and easily as the botanical sweet-tasting juice
of Jove dosed my travel-weary young mind and body.
the road from sagada to besao was narrow,
bumpier and have some sharper curves.
when we passed sagada, it was something
like we've just passed the gate where everything
became a thrill in my senses,
the air was colder and the distances were grayer.
every bus stop felt like we've already reached our destination,
the further we moved the more tension and weight
would wreck my seat, it was until we've finally reached
the central when we happily alighted from the bus.
we traveled by foot and before we reached the place,
we first walked some century old foot trails,
a hanging bridge, camotal gardens and orchards.
when we have finally reached bunga,
i felt so natural in the place although some peers teased me
like i was a stranger in their place.
after some rest, the other children took me to the creek
where everybody's panning for 'sugar grains' with circular disc,
which was very different from what they use in the mines of my birth
where bigger panning board was being used for a different metal.
they would give me a fresh ripe avocado that tasted like milked avocado,
a bowl of sweet potatoes that were chipped and sun-dried
to make them taste even more sweeter,
other older children with some adults would take us younger ones
to the river pool to swim, since i was only 5 i just stayed at the shallow portion.
in the evening after meal, we, old and young ones would gather
around a gas lamp and share and listen to some stories
from surreal tales to mundane anecdotes.
in the morning, the hearth is alive, meal is being cooked,
live fireside chat would be heard from the folks preparing the meal.
the after-breakfast would be another toil in the farms and workplaces,
socialization sometimes would be done while working
to ease the hard works and boost productivity.
it was truly a priceless moment to be with relatives and folks in the native land.
when we left bunga, we first trekked kin-iway to visit other relatives,
after that, we moved on and were able to board a bus bound for baguio.
in baguio, we boarded another bus for the kaingin mines
where i have budded and lived in the layasan.
the progenitors were nomads and travelers,
they assumed many features while moving from places to places.
they passed their genes with memories of their history
thus the generations would not stay in one place also
as they're moving outward and bound to mix with each other
on this elliptical world of network and connectivity.
and from this viewpoint, the place called cordillera,
must be the gateway of an austronesian generation called igorots.

life mix

life is the wind crashing on the face,
the air that is inhaled and exhaled,
and the oxygen in the canister..
life is the daily sustenance,
the healthy and unhealthy foods,
and the matter of choice..
it is a river flowing to the sea,
a current above the rocks and silts,
and a cliff of falling water..
it is the seasons of the year,
the storms and calm of d weather,
and the cycle of night and day..
it is a collage of memories,
a time of experiencing joy & grief,
and a path back home to God..
it began upon the sacred union,
the ensoulment of the organism,
and primal inception of the world..
it may not end with death,
may corrode back to the elements,
and may but continue in the afterlife..
a cornucopia of illness and wellness;
pain, evil, reliefs and pleasures;
and fears and surprises..
it is what we think and imagine;
what we speak, act, and learn;
and the development and the growth..
it is breathing and beating;
feelings, emotions and thoughts;
and actions, deeds and will..
marching towards the uncertain,
resting confusions at the crossroad,
and calvary to the pleasant dreams..
a fliptopping and rapping,
bombasting and screaming,
and beatboxing and modulating..
it is a runaway train on the go,
a prison cell with sky-dome,
and a settling down for love..
life is the silence of the night,
the spiel in the day time,
and the sound of earth's rotation..
it is a beautiful garden of flowers,
a field of mushroom plutonium,
and a story of vanquish and glory..
it is a matter of letting go,
a matter of holding on,
and matter of refreshing..
life is the waiting terminal,
the roadside bus stop,
and the embarkation airport..
it is an open curtain;
a furled sail, flag, and banner;
and a tabula already filled up..
a moment of childhood,
a time of adolescence and adulthood,
and then being a guide in a hood..
it is a plane in the endless sky,
a boat at the wavy ocean,
and a vehicle on the bumpy road..
an orchids on the tree,
a tree on the tophill,
and a tophill on the valley..
it is watching and participating;
playing, crouching, and striving;
and breaking and mending..
it is the dawning of the day,
the turning of wheel in the sky,
and the slumbering at night..
it is the chasing of dreams,
the failure and the success,
and the invictus of mankind,..
it is for the brave and courageous;
for the adventurous & lover of life;
and for ulysses, up to the lees..
it is your perception of the world;
your conducts, habits and ways;
and your existence-done time..
it is a wonderful journey,
a quest for sorrows and happiness,
and a search for base and destiny..
it is the love of yourself,
love of others and humanity,
and love of family and God..
the daily motion of work;
social networks, hanging out;
and the product of moves that you make..
it can be read from the Book of Life,
can be heard from the Bible,
and can be written by your own pen..
life is what we break it,
it is what we make it,
is what we receive
and what we give
and what we do everyday
what we dream every night..
and what we left in the past,
what we live today,
and what will ever the future unfolds
before each and everyone..