Apo Whang Od: The Queen of Thorns
G’day and welcome back
Through words and images, we will be venturing into the ancient world of the mambabatok, a tradition rich in history, myth, and cultural pride. Earlier this year, while travelling through the Philippines, I made the journey to Buscalan to visit Whang Od, the last mambabatok and the oldest living tattoo artist in the world.
Whang Od has been featured in some of the most renowned magazines globally. She is more than a tattooist. She is an icon. With each tap of her hand, she not only preserves an ancient art form but also supports her small mountain village through her now-famous signature tattoo.
I had just finished trekking through the rice terraces and jungle-laced mountains of the Cordillera region. I felt like I had earned my tattoo. What followed was a short hike, an hour-long motorbike ride along winding, cliff-hugging roads, and then a three-hour bus trip to Bontoc. Bontoc felt like a grey, colourless metropolis that spilled out into the surrounding mountains and farmland. The energy of the place was heavy, and after days immersed in nature, I found the sudden shift stifling. I was eager to leave for Buscalan, not just to meet Whang Od, but also because the lack of working bathrooms in Bontoc was a serious issue.
I purchased a ticket from an old lady tucked away in a small hut built into a bus bay. She tore my ticket from a frayed pink notebook filled with scribbled writing and curled page edges, then gave me a resigned wave in the direction I was meant to wait for the bus. A long chrome bus, its faded painted sides still clinging to colour, squeaked to a halt in front of me. I was crammed into the back, further exceeding the recommended passenger limit. As the bus wound its way along pothole-ridden roads, more and more people climbed aboard, some squeezing inside, others finding space on the roof with their belongings. Among the people pressed into the back of the bus, an American who reminded me of an old friend and a Spanish/Morrocan girl both endured the journey, being the only English-speaking people there we naturally joined paths.
Buscalan’s luggage and produce transport- often used by people.
The ancient village of Buscalan is strategically veiled by an emerald sprawl of the untamed jungle in the Kalinga Province. A white-capped rapid of fresh water acts as a natural moat, adding another layer of protection from neighbouring villages that has lasted for millennia. I was prepared for a perilous hike, the mud from Cordillera not yet dried on my boots. But in the end, the comforts of modern life prevailed, with a precarious swing bridge stretching across the deep, cavernous valley.
I am receiving the tradtion Buno Batok tattoo - Snake Tongue; representing strength, protection, and the warrior spirit
The history of batok is ancient, dating back over a thousand years, making it one of Asia’s longest-enduring forms of body art. In 1581, Spanish colonial official Miguel de Loarca documented the customs of various indigenous groups in the Philippines. He referred to the locals as “Pintados” or “painted ones,” a name that came from their extensive tattoos, which served as both ornamentation and markers of identity, bravery, and status.
The word batok is rooted in ancient Austronesian languages, meaning “to strike” or “to tap.” It reflects not only the physical action of the tattooing process but also its deep cultural significance. The practice shares clear similarities with other Austronesian traditions found across a vast oceanic belt — from Madagascar and Taiwan to Polynesia and Easter Island. These seafaring cultures, connected by language, values, and migration patterns, passed down their knowledge through navigation, oral storytelling, and ritual. Body art like batok stands as a powerful symbol of endurance, cultural memory, and resistance to colonisation.
In Buscalan, the traditional tools remain simple yet meaningful. Using sharp thorns from a pomelo or calamansi tree and a slender bamboo stick, artists craft what’s known as a patik or “ink stick.” By drilling a small hole at the end of the bamboo and threading the thorn horizontally through it, a basic tattooing instrument is formed. It resembles a miniature pickaxe and is rhythmically tapped with a second stick to drive soot-based ink into the skin.
Apo Whang Od, born in 1917, began tattooing at the age of 15 under the guidance of her father. In Kalinga tradition, tattoos are not simply chosen; they are earned. Each mark represents identity, social status or a rite of passage.
Traditional batok tattoos were believed to hold powerful properties. Some were spiritual, others offered protection, and some were linked to fertility. For men, tattoos were often earned through acts of bravery such as successful raids or headhunting. The complexity and placement of a tattoo reflected the courage and accomplishments of the individual.
Like many indigenous traditions, batok culture was forcibly diminished under colonial rule. Headhunting was outlawed and Christianity was introduced. During the American occupation of the Philippines, the colonial government enacted a Public Order Act and other administrative measures aimed at suppressing tribal conflict. This marked the beginning of the end for many rites of passage that had defined generations in the region.
Whang-od has been tattooing since the time of headhunters and has watched her culture evolve. Traditionally, batok was reserved for men or women of high status, with only men permitted to tattoo. But Apo’s father, a batok master, allowed her to learn the ancient art, earning her the title Mambabatok.
Since the abolishment of headhunting and the introduction of modern influences, the demand for batok warrior tattoos began to fade. This gave rise to Apo’s name, “The Last Mambabatok.”
If you can’t evolve, you die.
We’ve seen this since the beginning of time. From the first single-celled organisms, through the Late Cretaceous period with the formidable Triceratops, to the bipedal Australopithecus, time spares no one. Ancient cultures are not immune to evolution.
In the face of extinction, Apo opened her culture to the world and began teaching her grandnieces and apprentices. By passing down the ancient art of batok to her grandnieces and apprentices, Whang Od is ensuring the survival of this cultural tradition, preserving it for future generations while keeping the spirit of her people alive. Apo’s sharp humour and quiet power gained her global attention, and now Buscalan is a place revered by both locals and travellers. Although Batok tattoos no longer remain exclusive, there is still power and energy within each tap of the patik on flesh.
I sat in awe watching Apo work her way through a line of people, her small frame covered in vivacious colours that mimicked her personality. It was inspiring. At 108, Apo Whang-Od's presence is immeasurable. I was humbled as I sat with her while she struck her mark into the side of my thumb. I was allowed to photograph Apo, and I was beyond fortunate to be in the presence of such a powerful person.
I am always humbled by my experiences. If my work has sparked something in you and you’d like to support more of these journeys, you can find a donation link, or better yet, grab a copy of my coffee table book or a fine art print. Every bit helps fuel the next adventure.
I hope you’ve learned something about the incredible Apo Whang-Od and her lasting legacy. It’s not too late to witness her art and spirit in person.
Thank you,
Michael
