Our next destination is something that would have excited me greatly, save for the fact that the little voice inside my head started to act up when we were in Malakdang. From Morong Beach, our cogon trike took us for a 20-minute ride south to Barangay Savidug. As it is typical in Batanes, the roads are scenic with the hills on one side and the sea on the other. Unlike the main island of Batan though, the roads in Sabtang have more touches of being a tropical countryside because of the presence of a lot of coconut trees along the shores of its beach.

Savidug, however, is not only known for its coconut trees, if at all. It is known for being a village where most houses are sinadumparan of the traditional Ivatan stone houses, just like the House of Dakay.

What’s more fascinating with the houses in Savidug is that the houses are not archeological artifacts. They are houses in an active community where families actually live in. It was as if time stood still in Savidug, preserving its identity in stone while the rest of the world is way too busy altering the planet for what is generally perceived as human progress.

Before we had our photos taken in the houses, Ate Edna accompanied us to a small shop that rents out traditional Ivatan traditional vestments: vakul for women and kana-i for men. Made of date palm leaves or dried abaca stalks that are plentiful in the islands, the native gears are great protection for both the sun and the rain.

Yes, despite the apparent anxiety attack that I was having, I still tried my best to be grounded on the experience. I tried to distract myself, tried to let out a smile or two, despite the feeling of being in great confusion within.

After our photo ops by the Savidug houses, we had our photo taken by the bay walk, under the shade of the coconut trees. Such photos would actually be my last shots for the rest of the Sabtang trip. I tried to cope with the voices inside my head, but I failed.

When we have returned the kana-i to the rental shop, we continued taking a walk through the village, trying to appreciate the native beauty around us. Ran even stopped to pet a kid grazing in a backyard.

We continued walking until Ate Edna told us to take the tricycle, though it would be a very short ride to the village chapel of Savidug, the St. Thomas Aquinas Chapel.

At the side of the chapel was another sinadumparan structure. When we were there, the revolting thoughts inside my head was way too much already. Time stood still for me.

Whenever I experience mental attacks, the last thing I would want to be is to be a burden, hence I normally withdraw and take refuge in the dark corners of my mind. At that point, just as Ate Edna was asking us to pose for photos, I lost to the voice inside my head. It was difficult battle to fight, especially that the thought of being in Batanes all the more frustrated me. Of all chances and of all places, why have a terrible mental breakdown in the beautiful island of Sabtang which is the climax of our Batanes adventures? Deep within, the feeling was like I was a candle gradually melting. Little by little, I was running out of wax. I was running out of fuel.

I opted out of photo shoots.

I returned to the cogon trike, leaving Ran with Ate Edna. It was just around 09:00 AM. We still got a lot of places to go to. I should be excited, but my companion living comfortably inside my head was excited for the wrong reason.