I’m Waya, and I live and work in the highlands of Baguio City. I run a small restaurant called Gypsy Baguio by Chef Waya, where we serve food using local ingredients touched with global influences. I have been in the F&B industry for over 20 years, and to this day, I’m still learning, observing, absorbing, and evolving.
I grew up in Baguio as a child, then moved to Manila to study and build my career in the big city. When the pandemic happened in 2020, I decided to move back to Baguio and opened a restaurant in 2021. I am extremely grateful for the warm homecoming I received, and it has rekindled my love for this city I now call home.
Baguio is a Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) Creative City for Folk Art and Craft. But long before that designation, it had always been a refuge and an incubator for artists and artisans. My late father, Jerry Araos, was a sculptor. In his youth, he would often come to Baguio to refresh, hang out with fellow artists, and shoot the breeze. It might be the mountains, the cold air, or the proximity to nature, but I understand now the tug on your heart that Baguio can create.
Living in Baguio as a chef has been an exciting time for me. When I first moved here, I would be in the market every day. I walked through all five markets, learning where to get the cheapest produce. I observed the flow of goods from the bagsakan areas to the wholesale and retail markets. I marveled at the produce: big, round cabbages; the crispest lettuce; fresh mushrooms; and unique finds like rhubarb and fennel. Whenever I saw these special vegetables, I would buy them all, hoping it would send a message to the farmer who grew them to keep going. Somewhere out there, someone would keep buying what they grow.
Eventually, I started meeting the farmers. With a few friends in the industry, we decided to go on farm tours to meet them and talk about the challenges they faced bringing their produce to market. During the pandemic, I supported many of the rescue-buy efforts to help farmers. But talking to them on the ground, I learned that by the time their produce needed rescuing, they had already lost all hope of turning a profit. Pampalubag-loob na lang.
They were also victimized by traders who drove prices down, far below production costs. When we examined how they calculated their costs, we found they didn’t even factor in their labor. The logistics from Benguet, with small trucks and narrow roads, make transportation more expensive. Not to mention the additional effort it takes to haul produce up the mountainsides and into the trucks.
It all seemed insurmountable, but we knew we needed to start somewhere. We began by creating conversations between chefs and farmers and allowing farmers to sell directly to restaurants. When the chefs saw the farmers’ conditions, they became more committed to buying direct and paying fair prices for produce. Farmers gained a better understanding of what chefs need and began planting accordingly. That way, they knew that whatever they planted already had a market and would not go to waste. Listening to the chefs, farmers are now diversifying the vegetables they grow. We now have radicchio, rainbow carrots, colorful cherry and grape tomatoes, and many more exciting vegetables in the pipeline.
The farmers who joined this program, which we started three years ago, now supply several major restaurants and hotels. They run weekend markets in BGC and Quezon City. They have reported an increase of 3,000 percent in their incomes; some have even bought their own trucks. Just the other day, we had a meeting with more farmers eager to join what we now call the Farm Forward Initiatives. In the next year and beyond, we seek to expand our reach and programs to include training, market development, and logistics management.
It is such an honor to be writing this column, On A Higher Ground, for Simpol.ph. I look forward to sharing more stories — not just from the highlands but from everywhere. Always with the goal of stepping back, thinking deeper, and finding perspective. In a time when debates often turn into battlegrounds, I want this to be a space where we pause, reflect, and aim for something better: understanding, depth, and yes, a little wisdom.
Now, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t about standing on a soapbox or claiming the moral high ground. It’s about taking a step up and looking at things from a clearer, fairer, and maybe even kinder perspective. There’s already plenty of noise and division out there. Here, I’d rather explore, reflect, and sometimes, just share a good story.
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Email Chef Waya Araos-Wijangco at gypsychefwaya@gmail.com.
Editor’s Note: This article has been edited for clarity, style, and coherence while preserving the Simpol.ph columnist’s original voice and intent.
