Sagada Thanksgiving

We walked to the bus station and once again got right on a bus – I don’t know how often the buses for Vigan, San Juan or Baguio leave, but I was told that the Sagada buses left Baguio hourly, and we were lucky that one was just leaving. Non-air-con, but chilly in the mountains, so not a problem. About 40 PCVs/friends were set to converge on Sagada between Tuesday afternoon and Thursday evening, but Bill and I were the only ones on our bus. And a beautiful bus ride it was! It wended its way through some of the most magnificent mountain scenery I have ever seen, lush and green with occasional farms or villages, sun and clouds and fog and sky. The journey took about six and a half hours, but it didn’t seem long because the view was so breathtaking.

I had wanted to arrive before dark, and we did – there were a few volunteers there already, but not many. We decided to take a little walk through the town. It’s a quiet, backpacker/hippie place, but it’s even quieter than that description may suggest. It doesn’t feel like any other part of the Philippines I’ve seen – little houses and some shops and nice hikes and mountain vistas. The first week in country, some of the COSing volunteers said that Sagada was their favorite place, and early on, I heard about the Thanksgiving gathering; we hadn’t had gatherings like this in Morocco so I was eager to be a part of this one. The PCVs take over a pension and cook everything! The organizers made a big pot of chili that evening, and more people arrived. We sat by the fireplace and talked – no rowdiness (but also no card games…), just a nice bunch. I had met some of the volunteers before and I made some new pals! I helped cut up apples and wash what seemed like (and might have been) hundreds of small potatoes.

Thanksgiving morning brought quiche, and I went with some early risers to the bakery for some cinnamon rolls (and for bread to go into the dressing). I helped make apple pies (conveniently avoiding the turkeys on the chopping block). I then wanted to take a little walk, and was asked to bring back clothesline wire for binding and hanging the turkeys (we had been sent for butter and eggs on our walk the night before). I saw a sign for hanging coffins and started to walk on a path through the woods. The path was beautiful but I didn’t see the coffins (the next day I would learn, and see, that you could see them from the road) and I got deep into the woods until finally I decided I had gone as far as I should go alone; I found the wire and came back.

Another group was just leaving, headed for the small waterfall, and I joined them. I suggested we see some close-by hanging coffins first, and we did. Hard to photograph but interesting to see. The coffins were on the other side of Echo Valley, so of course we had to confirm that it’s named that for a reason. We then went along a path that then led along some rice fields. The fields were newly flooded and quite muddy and I slipped and fell in the mud. Splat. Luckily I was not alone here – one of the guys helped me up. I was so covered with mud that the promise of swimming in the waterfall was not enough to keep me from going straight back to the pension and then hosing myself off – and THEN taking a bucket bath with the bracingly cold water (I couldn’t wait for them to heat a kettle of water).

I helped with more cooking and setup, and soon it was time for the feast – three turkeys, dressing, mashed potatoes, cornbread, gravy, cranberry sauce, salad, shepherd’s pie for the vegetarians (there had been onion rings and fried zucchini to snack on while the turkeys were deep-frying on the outdoor fire), apple pie, pumpkin pie, no-bake pies (plus, Drew had come up that morning and texted to ask if we needed anything – people mentioned marshmallows and cream for whipping and he found both). It was good! And while it seemed like a lot of food, with all of those people, we didn’t stuff ourselves, and there weren’t many leftovers! Later, someone came to the pension to give massages; I got one (300 pesos!). I always try to do something memorable for Thanksgiving and this was a good one!

I realized it was a year to the day from my Morocco COS (which was followed by another great Thanksgiving). What a year this has been! I wonder if I will say the same this time next year (well, at least the part I know about – the next couple of months – will be interesting!)….