Mission Accomplished

Baguio circa 1968 - Browny & I

One of my fondest childhood memories is when the family went to Baguio and the three youngest of us rode horses. Or rather we sat on horses while a helper led us around a ring at a slower than snail's pace. Baguio, the city of pines, is in the northern part of the Philippines and is mountainous and green. I remembered it was so cool, my parents had to buy sweaters for us, which we previously never needed in Manila. Tour guides and the internet urged me to visit Baguio as the city is a "must-see." So I travelled back to see if it is as I remember. The bus ticket for the six hour ride was only $8, and the bus was air-conditioned and had free wi-fi. While still working our way out of Manila, when the bus came to a red light, the driver would open the doors and vendors would hop on the bus and sell food or drinks. If you know Filipino food, this can be a little smelly between the garlic, eggs, dried fish, and vinegar. Then at the next stoplight, the vendors would hop off. This happened several times, each stop with different vendors. On the ride up, I dreamt of relief from the heat in Manila. I even wore jeans and packed my Uniglo cardigan. Once I started seeing authentic nipa huts, I knew we were getting close. Upon arrival, I was hit with the same sobering contrast as Manila - the reality of a virtually non-existent middle class. (But more on that in another post.) I was on a mission, though I have discovered through volunteering, "mission" has a whole other meaning in the Philippines, which is an extremely religious country. I had to find the horses. And I did at Camp John Hay!

Baguio 2020 - Prince & I

I fully expected to have outlived my rent-a-horse, Browny, but lookalike Prince was there. I explained to the helpers it's been 50 some years since I was there and I came prepared with the photo above to show them. They giggled nervously, as Filipinos tend to do, and seemed genuinely happy to help me recreate the memory. They didn't even charge me the 20 pesos for picture-taking. Geez, if it's 40 cents now, how much was it when I was a kid? I chose not to mount the horse, as I do feel sorry for their daily life. While walking, I came across a peculiar site, The Lost Cemetery of Negativism. Only there are no bodies six feet under the whimsical headstones. Buried are only negative thoughts, bad vibes, pessimism, non-positives, and glasses half-full. This is my kind of quirky. The days spent in Baguio are exactly why I travel.

Negativism is man's greatest self imposed infliction, his most limiting factor, his heaviest burden.

No more, for here is buried the world's negativism for all time. Those who rest here have died not in vain - but for you a stern reminder. - As you leave this hill remember that the rest of your life. Be more positive. Have a good day. Treat today like it's your last though it's the first of the rest….CJH