The Hanging Coffins of Sagada

Sagada is a town frequented so many tourists. In fact, I believe that it is one of the top tourist destinations in the Philippines. But it is amazing how it never acquires that touristy feel. It seems that the “aura” of tourists is tamed down by the quiet landscape of a small town that is nearly crammed with houses, restos, and stores.

Go to Baguio or Magellan’s Cross, you feel that the spots are really for tourists. But in Sagada, even Koreans yoking DSLRs around their neck do not make you feel that you are in tourist country. The town’s atmosphere is so imposing and permeating that you get cheesy when you blog about it. The Hanging Coffins, being an anthropological and cultural uniqueness, is Sagada’s top sell point. Yet the town only has to present itself as it is.

In Sagada, the passage from this life to the next (which we dryly call “dying”) is a celebrated occasion. By “celebrated,” I did not mean there is some sort of Mardi Gras involved in. The death of a local can bring hoards of people together in solemn (yet not sad) unity. If someone dies, you can see a house filled with people conversing in a calm almost chantic episode.

I did not just make that up. There was actually a wake just few houses from where we stayed. There were really lots of people. The place we lodged in is called Grandma’s House and you will miss the sayote of your life if you do not check in there.

Only chieftains are allowed a hanging burial. They have so much respect for their leaders that they look up to them even if they have already gone to, well, their coffins. The chieftains in smaller coffins are fetal curled so they return in the same position they got to this world. On the other hand (I really hate using transitional phrases), chieftains in regular coffins, being in regular coffins, are lain the regular way.

Most of the chieftains in regular coffins also have regular names (that is, the first-name-last-name combination). Meanwhile, chieftains in the small coffins only bear one name. In the past, Sagada was just like a big household where everybody calls everybody with only one name. Cher, Madonna, and Sting all just have one name but they do not qualify for this kind of burial. You have to be Igorot.

These coffins are hoisted through a scaffold. Two pine trees and you have enough to send Chief into his high place. You will also see some chairs because chieftains are seated during the wake.

Baguio-Sagada Bus Ride

Somehow, I find it difficult to blog about our trip to Sagada. There are tons of photos waiting to be upload, tons of explanation to images that arouse curiosity (such as why their waiting sheds have stairs on the side or why the coffins are hung at Echo Valley). I have all the time in the world to come up with lousy jokes or just some simple high-school-precision paragraph writing.

I'll settle for a photo entry for now. The trip was great, aside from the fact that it was six hours long and there were only two bus stops and we were three rows from the front seat. After my trips down to Mindanao and up in Luzon, I concluded it is only in Cebu where "near" is really near and "far" is just far. Everywhere else, near is hours of walking/riding and far is really, really far.

The Baguio-Sagada trip is the best bus ride you will have in your life so better get the one beside the driver. It's like riding a roller coaster, only that the risks are real. En route, you will pass by the Philippine Pali, the highest elevation in the Philippine Highway system. It is 7,400 feet high and just one kilometer from the first bus stop. The Piattos we brought nearly popped off because of the pressure.

There are jeeps and other vehicles you will see at the ravines--fallen vehicles nobody bothered to bring up nor steal the metal. Those places are just so deep and ragged and steep that they just let those stuff rot. If you want to have the best seat, be early at Dangwa Terminal. It is near Baguio Public Market.

Dangwa is a once-huge bus liner. They still operate buses in the Mountain Province but they share their terminal now with other passes, like the GL bus we rode. Fare is 240 pesos. Seats are assigned so be there early, like an hour before the departure. The bus we rode left nine minutes before schedule.

There are times when you think you'd nearly fall off a cliff but after a few hours you'd realize it's normal. Bus drivers take that six-hour route twice a day so don't worry--just enjoy your window seat.

Credits to Chy for the food photos and for bringing a great camera. There was more food trip than road trip so I did not exactly leave up to my previous blog post. It's difficult to be on the road with someone who is very willing to try everything edible she sees.

Update: Just remembered our guide's story about a French guy who biked this whole route from Baguio. He visited Sagada years ago and when he was about to leave for the airport, his bag was stolen in Baguio. All he had left was the bike he rented. So he pedalled the six-hour bus ride back to Sagada. He now works there as a cook and plans to stay in the place for good.