Yunnan Province

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Yunnan Province is in southwestern China right next to Vietnam, Laos, and Burma (Myanmar). It is renowned for its ethnic minorities and the natural scenery. This blog entry will tell you about our visits to Kunming, LiJiang and Yuhu Village.

Kunming

We flew from Hong Kong to Kunming. Our first few adventures had to do with eating. The first night we found a nearby restaurant for dinner. The menu had big pictures so it was easy to order two dishes but both were very hot verging on too hot. For dessert they gave us sliced watermelon which helped cool the fire. It was delicious except for one thing. We ordered their best beer…turned out to be an import…Budweiser!

The next day our lack of the Chinese language became a real barrier. We were on a square and there were about six restaurants with similar food. But none had English menus and while some had pictures none had them close to the cash register. In each, you paid at a cash register then collected your food from various windows by showing your receipt. Finally we approached one. The lady at the register knew enough English to ask if we wanted rice or noodles and pig or chicken. We paid (Y4 each, $0.60) then she motioned us inside. We approached the first window and showed our receipt to a staff member. She took it and motioned us to sit down. She was being helpful because everyone else had to get their own noodles but she brought ours to us. They were tasty and just a bit spicy. After eating, I wanted some pancakes I had seen at a different restaurant. I approached the window and told them what I wanted and they told me something I could not understand so they gave me the two pancakes and charged me Y2. As we walked away, we realized it was the same restaurant and I should have paid at the register then taken my receipt to the pancake counter. Again, people went out of their way to help us. If the situation were reversed and a Chinese person was trying to order food in a similar restaurant would the American staff be as helpful?

Our next adventure dealt with taking a bus when there was no English available. We decided to go to the Bamboo Temple. The clerks at our hotel were no help in figuring out how to get there but the attached Youth Hostel had written instructions that we could copy. It took three buses to get there. John was smart and wrote down the characters for the bus stops where we needed to change buses so before we boarded each bus, we were able to look at the schedule to see how many stops we needed to go. Each ride was Y1 ($0.15) in the city. The first two buses came almost immediately and we were really proud of ourselves for negotiating our way around. Doubt started to creep in as we waited about 20 minutes for the third bus on the outskirts of the city. A different kind of bus with the number we were looking for arrived and almost drove off because the driver was expecting passengers to flag him to stop. I vigorously began waving as he was going by and we chased after it and hopped in. It was like a mini-bus taxi (see our Lesotho blog) with a conductor who asked us where we were going (actually she guessed and guessed right, probably only one tourist attraction on the route) and made sure we got off at the right stop.

The Bamboo Temple was a quiet place and for most of our time there, we were the only visitors exploring the grounds and dodging fat raindrops falling from the eaves of its many buildings. Our guidebook piqued our curiosity in its description of the temple when it mentioned 500 statues which “attempt to perfectly represent human existence in statuary - a fascinating mishmash of superb realism and head-scratching exaggerated surrealism”. Plus it also mentioned 70 surfing Buddhas. Who could pass up that display? We found the statues arrayed in two separate buildings, each building contained three shelves of life-sized arhats, or noble ones, in many different poses, costumes, and expressions. The colors were still vivid after 120 years, but they could have used a good cleaning. We had gone around the grounds twice when we realized we hadn’t seen any surfing Buddhas. The building that housed them was right under our noses and we had neglected to peek in to view them until we were on our way out. The surfing Buddhas were “riding the waves on a variety of mounts - blue dogs, giant crabs, shrimp, turtles, and unicorns”.

The temple had a restaurant so we ate lunch there. We ordered a bowl of noodle soup and a plate of stir-fried cabbage and lotus root. We also ordered tea but not just any ordinary tea. It came in single serving cups with the tea or other plants such as flowers and berries right in the cup. The cup had a lid to keep it warm. Our host put a thermos of hot water on the table and explained (both in Chinese and in gestures) that we should let the tea brew at least two minutes and when we had drunk half the glass we should refill it with hot water. So we sat eating good food, drinking tea, and listening to recordings of temple music while outside it rained. It was a very pleasant lunch.

After lunch we wandered one more time through the temple then went outside to catch a bus back. After just a few minutes a true Mini-Bus Taxi pulled up so we hopped in. We had hoped it would take us to downtown but it stopped on the edge of the city. As we tried to figure out if it would take us farther, another person offered to drive us. We thought it was another MBT but only after getting in did we realize it was a private van and we should have negotiated the price before we entered. But she used a navigation system to find the fastest route to our destination and it did take almost 30 minutes to go the 8 km so when she asked for Y50 ($7.50) we did not quibble. We feel that we are seasoned enough travelers that we should have known better than to get in without negotiating a price first.

LiJiang

The next day we took an overnight train to LiJiang. The train ride was pleasant except for the conductor waking everyone up at 5:30am. Her idea of a wake-up call consisted of going to each room, throwing open the door and stating something loudly in Chinese.

The train pulled in about 6am. It was still dark and nothing was open so we shared a cab with two other Americans to the tourist section of the city called Old Town. With nothing else to do until things started opening, we made our way to the high point in Old Town called Lion Hill where there is a tall pagoda with a lovely view in all directions. We climbed to the top and joined a small group of people taking pictures of the sunrise. To the north is a striking, snow-covered mountain that was lit by the sunrise but partially obscured by clouds…it was quite pretty.

After sunrise we headed back into town to find the youth hostel and after checking in we went in search of breakfast. As we watched the town wake up we discovered what kind of place it is. LiJiang is beautifully well preserved. There are acres of old buildings and twisty streets with a myriad of small streams running through the town. It is both easy and fun to get lost in them. It is also beautifully decorated with large pots of flowers in front of every store and on every flat surface. I remember a bridge where the pylon had 10 pots of flowers covering it. It is clean; there are many people constantly wandering the streets sweeping up the least little thing that falls, be it a leaf or a candy wrapper. We saw several people scooping the streams to pull out any trash from them. Even the public toilets were in beautiful buildings and had a full time attendant to keep them clean. There must be 1000+ buildings in the acres of Old Town and everything is a hotel, a restaurant or a shop. LiJiang is a shopper’s paradise. There are silver smiths, weavers, yak meat sellers, tea shops, music shops, clothing stores and souvenir shops. I am sure there are hundreds of years of history but only a little bit is shown and that is hard to find.

Within an hour we had tired of the shopping so decided to see some other sites. Lonely Planet recommended a bike ride to the countryside so we rented bikes, got a map and set out. We pedaled through the new side of the city into small villages and between farmers fields headed for the Fu Guo Monastery. We found Fu Guo Road and followed it but it quickly started heading up into the mountains. Just as we were about to turn around, we spotted prayer flags so kept going. There was a cemetery along side the road for several kilometers with lots of sets of prayer flags. We were (I was) about to give up again when we saw what looked to be a spire on the top so we kept going. The spire was just a tree covered with more prayer flags but up ahead were a lot of prayer flags. Even then I was ready to call it quits but John had ridden ahead so I continued and as I rounded the bend, the monastery came into view.

As I pedaled up, it felt like the end of an episode of the Amazing Race. John was standing there smiling and next to him was an old monk who said “Welcome to Fu Guo Monastery.” The monk then invited us inside. There was both new construction and several old buildings on site and it was into one of the old buildings we went. He took us to a room on the second floor which overlooked the valley. The room was half Buddhist temple and half living room. He asked us to sit down and made us tea by pouring tea leaves into cups and pouring in steaming hot water from a thermos. We sat drinking and talking. The monk’s English was limited to about 10 memorized phrases plus numbers. He said “Happy to meet you” at least five times. He also said “I wish you safety on your journey” and “I wish you happiness.” He asked how old we were and it took a couple of minutes but we told him 45. We asked him how old he was and he counted on his fingers “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, seventy.” I tried asking about the temple under construction and if he was the only monk and he responded “Happy to meet you.”

After three cups of tea, he offered us sticks of incense and the opportunity to pray. He put on a stole and we knelt in front of the alter (as we had watched people do in other temples). He played a pair of cymbals and chanted while we knelt there for about two minutes. Then we made a donation to the temple and went to see the new construction.

After touring the new construction, we bid farewell to our new friend and got to ride down the hill and into the town of Baisha. I had hoped to eat dinner at the restaurant in Baisha but it was too early for them to be serving dinner so we climbed on our bikes and headed back. As we rode, I really noticed the amount of work the farmers (both men and women) were putting in. I think they are subsistence farmers and I know it is harvest time. The women were carrying large bundles on their backs, often bigger than they were that must have weighed 60 pounds. One woman was harvesting some kind of grain using a small scythe. Another man was threshing it by use of a stick with a long rope and a weight attached. It brought home how much work these farmers do.

On the outskirts of LiJiang we found a small restaurant that was open and decided to have dinner. It was like a Mongolian BBQ for soup. They had a refrigerator case with skewers of meat , bundles of vegetables and other things like noodles and dumplings. We selected the ingredients we wanted then they put them in a basket and lowered it into a large vat of boiling broth. When it was cooked, they put it into a serving bowl and added salt, green onions, cilantro and other spices as requested. Then they added a ladle or two of broth from the cooking vat and dinner was ready. It was delicious and we got to try several new foods. And we did it all without any English (point-and-grunt can be effective sometimes).

When we got back to Old Town it was very crowded with tourists and this is not even high season. (Apparently this is a very popular spot with Chinese tourists. We saw a few westerners but probably less than 1 in 200.) John and I agree that it felt like Disneyland. The pagoda on the hill was lit and there was traditional dancing in the market square. There were 50 bazillion tourists all shopping and eating and shopping and dancing and shopping. The only thing we purchased was food and we tried yoghurt made of yak milk that was quite good, a green steamed bun and a slice of cornbread that I thought tasted like gingerbread. The town was still hopping when we went to bed.

The next day we went to a part of town called the Black Dragon Pool. The BDP is a large pond that is fed both by a river and springs. It has a walking path all the way around it with several pretty bridges and pagodas. There are also several historical buildings that have been moved here. We were in one called the Phoenix Pagoda when we got our Buddhist blessing.

First we walked through a gate into a courtyard. Ahead of us was the pagoda. As we walked around the side to go up the stairs to the pagoda, we passed a Buddhist shrine in a side building. As we walked past, a woman handed us three incense sticks each. At first we tried to decline but she was insistent so we took them. As we went to light them (at a nearby candle) she instead led us to another room where there was a Buddhist monk and another shrine. The monk stood as we entered and showed us what to do. I lit my incense sticks and planted them in the burner. John lit his and then the monk had us put our palms together and stand next to each other while John held the incense. He then went through a ceremony that included chanting and gestures towards Buddha and him blowing and us blowing. It was interesting to receive the blessing. After he finished, then he asked for a donation by saying “donation” and showing us a book where we signed our name and wrote the amount. I am used to thinking of us as a single entity so when John signed and wrote Y100 ($15) that sounded good to me. The monk gave John a bracelet made of wooden beads and then he turned to me for my donation. So I also donated Y100 and also got a bracelet. Then we were escorted out. As we walked away John’s comment was “That was slick.” Was it a scam or legitimate? It was both; we just paid more than we expected for the blessing but the blessing was real. Live and learn. My response to John was “if that is the most expensive scam we fall for on this trip, I will consider us lucky.”

Yuhu Village

We had had enough of the touristy city so we arranged to spend two nights at a Naxi guesthouse called Nguluko Guest House in Yuhu Village. The Naxi (pronounced nashee) are one of the minority groups in Yunnan. Yuhu Village is the home of about 1300 people and is north of LiJiang nestled in the foothills of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. Nguluko Guest House is in a traditional Naxi style home. In the center is a courtyard paved in designs using river rock. There are buildings on three sides and a wall on the fourth. There is an entrance on one corner and a door to the garden on the opposite corner. Our room is simple with rock walls and a low ceiling. There are three guest rooms all of which share a bathroom.

Lunch was ready when we arrived. There were five different dishes plus steamed rice. One was a cold cucumber salad and the rest were freshly cooked and all were delicious. As we sat down we both thought we would never be able to eat it all but we did a good job.

Our hosts speak very little English so using the phrasebook, I asked the lady “May I ask your name?” She responded “No.” They referred to themselves as Mama and Papa and reading the comments in the guest registry reveals everyone calls them Mother and Father or some derivative.

When it got close to dinner time, I knocked at the kitchen door and asked Mama if I could watch her cook. Mama’s kitchen is large, bright and fully tiled. She has a sink, two gas burners and one electric burner. There is a small fridge and many cupboards. Dinner was similar to lunch but with different veggie and meat combinations. There was, however, one unique dish; Mama sautéed something that looked like uncooked pasta shells and they came out crunchy like potato chips.

After dinner we went for a walk. We were enjoying the bucolic county-side when I heard a noise coming from the stream in a cement ditch next to the road. I checked it out and saw someone’s household trash floating down the creek. As we walked, we saw two other folks walk out of their homes and empty their trash into the stream. It sure is a different way of thinking.

The next day we went for a walk and ended up at the Jade Mountain Monastery. As we approached the temple entrance, five women dressed in traditional Naxi dress greeted us with song and dance then they invited us to join their dance. The dance was a circle dance holding hands and John noticed how much rougher their hands were compared to ours; that says a lot.

We really enjoyed our stay at Yuhu Village especially for the peace and quiet. After the chaos of LiJiang it was nice to be able to hear the dogs barking, chickens clucking, and wind blowing.

Thus ends part one of our visit to Yunnan Province. Our next adventure is a trek through Tiger Leaping Gorge. Stay tuned…

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Photos

Fishsticks
The Chinese will eat almost anything.

Bus schedule
We actaully were able to figurre out what we needed to know!

Bamboo Temple
The ancient Cypress trees.

Chinglish
Don't forget to keep civilized behavior during outing, and also shopping should be rational.

LiJiang
A stunning example of the flowers around LiJiang.

Fu Gao Temple
Having climbed over 500 feet and gone 5 kilometers on our bicycles, this was a welcome sight.

Chinglish
Do not disorder rubbish here.

Naxi Script
The Naxi use a pictograph form of writing.

Comments

[Sara Hill]

Greetings from Friends
Janet and Aaron say "Hello." I forwarded them the link to your blog as they had not checked it out yet. :) I love reading your narratives - looking forward to the next update!