Over the last fifty years, the Ifugao region has developed quickly. A few weeks ago, Auntie Lourdes’ husband, Raul, came to visit for his birthday. Unlike most Ifugao, Raul really likes to talk and make jokes. I told him that I was studying how Ifugao culture has changed over the last fifty to one hundred years.

Adam, Lola, Raul, and Auntie Lourdes--Raul's wife

He laughed, crossed his legs, and leaned back. “You know, there really have been so many changes, it’s hard to even believe. When I was a boy, we still lived in the native house. We had this concrete house too, but we rented it out to missionaries. There wasn’t a concrete road, there was only a dirt road that American jeeps sometimes went down, and sometimes buses. But mostly we had to walk to get anywhere.”

At that point, Mart [his son and my host brother] walked by us and out the front door.

“Goodness, that boy is so frail. Do you see his skinny arms? I never had arms like that—our chores made us strong. We were always active. For example, my brother and I used to walk to [a local village] to get firewood. We’d chop the wood down in the forest, and then we had a wheelbarrow. We’d put the wood in the wheelbarrow and push it all the way home.” Adam and I talked for a moment about where the village was located, and realized that they’d hiked the wood home about 10 miles.

Raul continued. “We pounded rice, which is very hard work for the arms. We winnowed the rice too. There also weren’t any tricycles, so we walked to school—up and down those steps every day. That’s good exercise. But what do kids do for exercise now? Their physical education doesn’t do anything. They don’t have any chores. That is why so many kids are skinny like Marty, or they’re getting fat. How can anyone stay healthy around here anymore?”

I have asked myself that question many times. Faced with a similar question, I bought a jump rope and some weights and I started running as well. But none of those past times are common here—I’ve never seen anyone out for a jog. Most women still wash their own laundry, and many locals who live higher up in the terraces have to walk up and down the stairs every day. But there is no gym here. The only exercise kids get is a short P.E. session, a walk up and down a couple set of stairs, and maybe Taekwondo classes if they can afford them. And yet they eat copious amounts of sugar and fried foods for snacks. It reminds me of the United States.

“You know,” Raul said, “Education is really what changed everything. In the early 50’s, the government decided that everyone in the Ifugao region had to go to school.”

At the time, Raul was in second or third grade. He lived in a “dorm” with a group of other boys his age: essentially a native house that a few kids lived in. The Ifugao believed that once children reached a certain age, they shouldn’t live with their parents anymore in their small huts. So, the kids would live nearby in a native hut—boys in one hut, girls in another. Instead of going to school, kids stayed busy playing in the terraces, doing chores, and helping with the farming.

“When the government decided that we had to go to school, they drove around in their cars and herded us to a local classroom.” He started laughing. “And do you know how they used to determine if we were old enough?” He wrapped his arm over his head. “If we could touch our ear like this, they made us go to school. Otherwise, we didn’t have to go. I was old enough at the time, so I had to start attending classes. If you were old enough but you didn’t go, they quarantined you until your parents made you.”

The method used by government officials to determine if kids were old enough to attend school--could you touch your ear?

Most of the schools were run by Catholic or Christian institutions, which are where the Ifugao learned English, but also where they had forced exposure to Christian teachings. Part of the curriculum was religious education. Teachers taught that the Ifugao ways were pagan and that if they didn’t change their beliefs, they would go to hell. At such a young age, few children really knew how to refute this new information. That’s when a large rift between their indigenous culture and their new Christian traditions began. Almost every Ifugao I’ve meet has converted to Christianity—I have only met one so far that held onto his native beliefs.