Tourism is a mixed blessing for the village of Buscalan. For decades, the village survived by turning away foreigners, not allowing outsiders in. For many, the sudden influx of tourists hoping to receive a tattoo is frightening. The town itself doesn't have the infrastructure to support so many people. Accommodations, food supplies, and sewage systems are simply unable to keep up with the massive influx of people (Howard, 2022). While many are concerned, this sudden change is what is saving batok tattooing.

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Whang-Od said of the tourists, "I want people to know that the traditional tattoo is not just a graphic- every design represents something. I want people to have tattoos not just to be in fashion, but because the design you choose means something about you." (Howard, 2022).  Receiving a batok is no longer a rite of passage, it's meaning has changed in recent years, but the symbols remain the same.

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It is important to Whang-Od and her niece Grace Palicas, that the tradition lives on. Whang-Od is 106, and she is slowing down. She relies heavily on Palicas to continue the art. The sudden influx of income and demand means that her art will not die with her. Kalinga tattooing is changing, but the process and the symbols remain the same. This new evolution of the art is saving it from extinction. 

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Scholars Martin Soukup, Dusan Luzny, Jan D. Blaha, and Jaroslav Skupnik have noticed this evolution as well. While some of the original meaning and premise of the Buscalan tattoos has been stripped, the preservation of the art is at the center of the movement. The ability to share through tourism, social media, and Grace Palicas' tattoo tours, has preserved batok tattoos in an undeniably valuable way. While original practice and meaning may have changed, batok is being preserved in an almost unprecedented way.