November 5, Going Up

Lashi Lake

View from our hotel room

Morning fan dancing on the plaza

11/5
Thursday, November 5
We woke up too cool breezy fall day. After taking photos of the Snow Mountain at sunrise from our hotel window and watching people fan dancing in the park below us, we ate breakfast, and piled into the van. 

LiJiang
Geographically, LiJiang lies at the edge of the Himalayas and the Tibetan Plateau, and culturally, it is a blend of the Tibetan and Chinese people. You see a lot of Tibetan influence in the local dress and food. The houses are often square shaped, but wider at the bottom than the top with elaborate wood carvings along the roof edges. This was another important stop along the ancient Southern Silk Road,where horses were refreshed or traded as the teas, spices and other goods were transported between India and China.  The temples in this region had a distinctly Tibetan look, being very ornate and colorful, with a slightly different take on Buddhism.


Lashi Lake
Our first stop was Lashi Lake, where we walked along the shore watching a few ducks and grebes. The babies, almost as large as their parents, still hitch a ride on their parents backs as well as getting fed by them. Birds are very dedicated parents. We loved the English translation of their "protect the environment" signs.

The Zhyun Monestery
Our next stop was the Zhyun monastery, a huge complex of ornate buildings on a hill in the countryside. As we walked up the many wide stairs to the courtyard, thousands of colorful prayer flags fluttered above us. We entered through a massive gate with the traditional curved tiled roof. 

The wallks were lined with elaborate murals depicting various religious stories, and fierce looking characters who guard the temple. These temple gods (and their “kin”) can often be seen as posters guarding the gates to people’s homes, as well. This Monastery was Tibetan, so the statues and murals had a decidedly “Indian” appearance.

We took our shoes off and walked clockwise around the inside of the temple admiring enormous golden Buddhas and “Buddhesses,” some with many arms and faces. The ornate statues were often surrounded by people or animals creating a very busy scene. In the middle of the temple were huge prayer flags of heavily embroidered fabric hanging low above rows of prayer benches, piled high with blankets. The only lighting came from the Buddhas, so the dim lighting and all that fabric created a musty, hushed, almost claustrophobic feeling. Unfortunately, they did not allow photos inside.

Kathy gives a prayer wheel a spin and a prayer

Typical local vehicles

David, as usual, stopped at a few alters, dropped an offering into the collection box and said a short prayer, along with many other visitors. Although I am not religious, I feel a strong sense of awe and respect in these temples, much as I do in any place of worship.

The Crowded Village
After the Monastery we decided to walk to a nearby village about 3 km thru fields and along the shores of a lake. Despite intermittent rain we managed to spot a few birds aong the roadside. 

As we approached the village the streets narrowed as they wound through old homes with gated courtyards, interspersed with occasional modern homes being constructed. Among local villagers, were affluent, well dressed Chinese tourists, wandering the streeets talking photos (like us).

At one point traffic came to halt in both directions as a large utility truck blocked the road. The drivers were nowhere to be seen. 

This region was known for its fruit

Two huge tourism buses, as well as cars and assorted motorized and non motorized carts began to  pile up A crowd gathered and finally the two buses carefully turned around, a local man with a long bamboo pole pushed up the power line so the buses could back up into a small empty lot with much difficulty. 

The traffic jam

Looking inside a courtyard

Another courtyard

A tight squeeze on "Main Street"

Finally, the truck drivers returned and pulled the vehicle over so traffic could resume. Mr Wang eventually showed up over an hour later as he was stuck in the jam. This gave us plenty of opportunity to walk through the town and take yet more photos.

The Tibetan Influence
We continued driving upward ontp a high plateau area with wide open spaces. Gone now were rice paddies, as this high area is much cooler. Replacing it were fields of gasses and grains, with horses, sheep and goats grazing in the meadows. 

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The Adobe homes have been replaced by brick and rock walls. New homes made of brick and painted white dotted the landscape, and in the villages, they towered over the smaller traditional buildings. Many of the new homes had a built in greenhouse on the upper story, as people grow vegetables all year long. The animals still inhabit the ground floor, while the extended family lives in the middle floor, and the “attic” stores grains and fodder for the livestock.

 Instead of the smaller “Scruffy” sized dogs we had been seeing, the local dogs here were burly with thick fur, possibly descendants of Tibetan Mountain Dogs.

Tibetan Village
In late afternoon, we drove up to a small village at the foot of the Jade Snow Mountain. As we walked around the village, every view was dominated by the snow capped mountain in the distance. 

Farmers were returning from the fields with carts and wagons full of crops. Some people carried huge baskets of vegetables and grains along the narrow cobblestoned streets. Occasionally, horses cows or sheep would be led past us back to their stable for the night. School was letting out for the day, so we watched kids of all ages pouring out of the courtyard to be met by their parents. A familiar sight for me! 

School's out! Beautiful building!

The local women wear a Mao style cap, deep blue dress, with a flat looking back pad which cushions their back as they carry huge baskets filled with crops from the fields, or other items. Most of the courtyards we peeked into had ears of corn and corn stalks, stacks of hay, and vegetables drying out. 

Yet, another roadside waterway

Before

After

Clear water from the mountain rushed along the waterways along the roadsides. This stark, rocky, cold environment was quite a contrast from the lush green areas around Kunming. We visited the former home, now a small museum, of Joseph Rock, who was the first Westerner to live with and document the lifestyles of the local people. 

A botanist, Rock collected and cataloged thousands of local plants and seeds, as well as photographing for National Geographic magazine.

 The Naxi Classical Orchestra
After a dinner of the traditional Naxi hot pot (kind of a soup with meat and vegetables - a little bland for my taste) we were off to a concert. The hall was dark, quite large, and rather worn, with no heat. We were three of an audience of about ten people. Wearing practically all we owned, we were still cold. As the musicians came on stage we realized they were all bundled up in layers under their traditional robes, too. 

The orchestra (photo from the Web)

(photo from the Web)

We couldn’t help but notice most of them were sneezing and coughing discreetly throughout the performance as well. The instruments were classical Chinese pieces, many very beautiful, and very old. So were the players! This orchestra of perhaps fifty people had but two people under the age of sixty, while several were in their eighties. The music was “interesting,” to me, a little pedantic and twangy for my liking.

Ancient Naxi instruments await their players (photo Kathleen Becker)

A Very Sad, but Inspirational Story
The Orchestra leader, Mr Xuanke, a man well into his eighties, came forward and told us the history of the orchestra and its instruments. During the Cultural Revolution beginning in 1966, he, and many other Chinese intellectuals were tortured or put to death, as the Communist Government tried to purge the country of its traditional culture. Instead of going to school students were encouraged to turn against their elders and the “establishment. Not only were many people’s lives destroyed, but museums, universities, books, instruments and other representations of “culture” were decimated. Most of the instruments we listened to that evening had been hidden away during this awful period of history. The orchestra leader, himself, had been sent to a labor camp for 26 years. Incredibly, he survived the hardships of the camp, to return and institute the Orchestra. 

(photo from the Web)

The Naxi people have used a pictorial language for thousands of years

His was a very moving and inspirational story. The bitter irony is that after all his suffering, and efforts to preserve the music and its instruments, very few Chinese people come to listen to the music. They have been seduced by Western Pop music, which has been incorporated into a mixture of what I would call “Chinese Pop” that can be heard in stores, restaurants, in town squares as people dance to it, and such. In addition, throughout the entire concert loud rock music from a nearby club could be heard (and felt). Meanwhile, members of his orchestra will be passing on, and there are few people interested in continuing this tradition.

The Naxi People
The local museum, featured the culture of the Naxi people, who have inhabited this land for many years. They are renowned for their Dongba pictographic language, one of the few living pictograph systems in the world, and maintained by local shamans and priests. They also believe that the Naxi, Tibetans and Bai people have a common ancestor, so they are all brothers. There is a lot of intermarriage between these groups, also.

Dance in China in public places is very common - even in the rain!

Edie boogies out!

Gill’s Turn
I climbed into bed, happy to be finally warm, and started a little writing on the computer. Around 10 pm my stomach started gurgling, and I knew the dreaded stomach bug, that had also hit David and Mr. Wang, was now visiting me. I quickly downed a few slugs of Pepto Bismol and waited….. Sure enough, the trots hit me like a ton of bricks. Although very nauseous, my outflow was restricted to my lower half. I brought my pillow, comforter and extra tissues (because there’s never enough toilet paper!) into the bathroom and prepared for the siege. A very unpleasant night.