Her name is Injoja. She has forgotten how old she is. Her relatives say she must be around 90 years old. Indeed, the lines on her face say she's really old. The cataract in her eyes and the curve of her tired body say the same. But Injoja is more than old. She is a woman who has lived the Ifugao way. She is a woman who has helped till and keep the grandeur of the rice terraces. She is a descendant of the great hunter who started carving the mountainsides of Batad. She has tattoos on her body to prove that she is of noble blood. She has endured colonization, survived the war and lived through all the hardships brought about by graft and corruption. She is a mother, a woman. She is Ifugao.
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