"Good morning", an Ifugao elder said to me while I was taking pictures around the village. She was carrying a baby, lulling her to sleep. I could see that the woman's teeth was already reddened from years of chewing betel leaves, a favorite pastime in these areas. I wasn't able to greet back. I was waiting for something that comes after the "good morning". Maybe she'd sell some merchanise, or offer tourist services. But no. It was a genuine, cordial, neighborly greeting - so rare these days that I was taken aback. I felt so ashamed of myself.
Look at what the world has done to me: I have become suspicious of friendly greetings.
Finally, I managed to smile and belatedly respond: "Good morning din po".
I got up just before sunrise...
