To Go or Not to Go

On Sunday morning I had a choice. My stomach was feeling queasy, I had a headache, and the sore throat I’d been developing over the past couple of days started to feel suspiciously like the onset of strep.

I was in Tinglayan, deep in the heart of the remote Kalinga province, home of the headhunters of old and of the fierce mountain tribes that to this day still occasionally battle it out over territory disputes (and some of which you’re best advised not to try to visit at all, local guide or not.)

The village of Tinglayan itself is not particularly easy to get to, and my guide Francis and I were planning to spend the next few days trekking deeper into the mountains, to visit tribal villages that see neither cars nor electricity, and very few outsiders, white or otherwise.

But I felt terrible, and to top it off, it was raining, as it had been for the past week in the area. Should I rest for a day and hope for better health and weather on Monday? Pfah.

I decided to roll the dice. Popping a penicillin pill I’d bought in Bontoc, a couple tablets of ibuprofen, and two cups of hot, strong local coffee, I said let’s do this, and up into the mountain jungle we went.