Yunnan Xtravaganza
I'm back from a doozy of a trip.
As you already know, I have a two-month vacation between semesters of teaching, and Tyler Harlan decided to stop over for a few weeks on his way to Australia to study. I met him in chilly Beijing on January 23, and after a couple of days to recover from jetlag and to meet up with old friends in Beijing, we were off to the relative warmness of Kunming, capital of Yunnan province and holder of the title "City of Eternal Spring". Yunnan borders Tibet (and other provinces such as Sichuan, Guizhou and Guangxi) as well as the countries of Burma, Laos, and Vietnam. China has 55 recognized minority groups and many more than remain unrecognized by the government, and because of its borders with so many different different lands, Yunnan is home to at least 28 of these groups.
Because Tyler had to catch a train on February 7 to be able to fly to Australia on February 9, we decided to take a bus to the northern part of Yunnan as soon as we landed in Kunming, because there we expected to find the best hiking. After a bus ride of about 6 hours, we were in Dali, which has recently become a sort of hangout for foreign hippies. The Chinese government has recognized this, or spurred it on, by tearing down much of the city and rebuilding it with more traditional-style Chinese buildings. As much as harmony between nature and human construction is praised in the principles of fengshui, it seems to have been largely ignored in most modern Chinese cities, and while the government's decision has made the city more attractive, it has also morphed it into a Chinese version of Disneyland, sans rides. To escape this, Tyler and I rented bikes one day and rode down to the nearby lake and surrounding villages.
The Old Town of Dali:
Riding through small villages near Dali:
And to Erhai, a lake near Dali:
Women working and their children playing in a small village near Dali:
After a couple of nights in Dali, we were ready for an 8-hour bus trip to Zhongdian, which has recently been renamed Shangri-la by either the national or local government. They, too, are in the process of tearing down the Soviet-style buildings and replacing them with more traditional ones, but luckily this process is not so far along as it is in Dali, and some character has been able to survive in the city. Tyler and I quickly made the Potala cafe our home, eating there no less than 5 times during the two different nights we stayed in Zhongdian. Since 80 percent of the town was Tibetan, the menu featured such specialties as yak butter tea, fried dried yak meat, and fried yak cheese. The first tastes as you would expect, a little salty and oily but good; the second is similar to beef jerky; and the third is the most delicious. Tyler and I ordered it every chance we got. The closest thing I can think of to describe it is slightly tart, slightly chewy ripe yogurt. I know that sounds disgusting, but if you ever get the chance to try it, don't hesitate.
I must recount one particular time we were bargaining for a room, this time in Zhongdian. Bargaining is an essential part of Chinese life, and the vendors and merchants stop at nothing to sell at the highest price possible. I believe the conversation between Tyler and the hotel proprietor went something like this (but in Chinese):
Tyler: I think our toilet is broken, it won't flush.
Proprietor: Hmm, maybe you just need to wait for the water to fill up.
T: Well, it didn't even work when we got here.
P: Well, it's not a big problem.
T: Well, my crap is still in there.
P: Hold on, I need to go fix the toilet cover (that he had just dropped on the floor).
T: (5 minutes later) I think our toilet is leaking onto the bathroom floor.
P: No, it doesn't.
T: Yes I will show you.
P: (After watching fecal water run out of the toilet onto the floor) Ok, a "small" leak.
T: Well, can we have a discount?
P: (After some thinking) Ok, 40 kuai (a discount of 10 kuai).
At the end of the day folks, if the turd is still in the toilet, something's got to be done. Needless to say, our bathroom floor smelled like dung for our stay at this particular inn.
Surprisingly, the further north and the colder we got, the more basic the accommodation became. I don't understand why, because the Tibetans still seemed to be cold and woke up shivering just like the rest of us. Clearly they have fire, but I guess they just haven't learned to use it to continually heat their houses. No rooms had heat, and most had only cold water. That meant waking up more often than not with ice on the windows and our breath visible in the cold air. Some rooms provided heating blankets, but in general the only hot water that was available came from boiling it and placing it in thermoses. This resulted in a number of misshapen and too-hot-to-touch water bottles:
We watched some traditional Tibetan dancing in a square that night (one of the few squares in all of China, I have come to realize), but before long it started to snow. This led to a snowball fight with some local kids and a group of Chinese travelers, and to warm up Tyler and I had a few bottles of the worst and second-worst tasting beer I've ever had, Dali and Lan Cang Jiang beer. Unfortunately, they're pretty much all you can get in the area, but luckily, they haven't been able to gain acceptance elsewhere.
Chorten in the Old Town in Zhongdian, aka Shangri-la:
Dancing in the square:
And a short time later after a snowball fight:
The two worst beers on the planet get three thumbs down!
Tyler and I were a little worried that the snow might prevent us from taking a bus further north the next day, but luckily the roads were fine, and we arrived in Deqin after a trip of 7 hours. Deqin turned out to be a really ugly town, so we took a short taxi ride a little bit further to Feilai Si (Temple), where we began hiking the next morning. We were primarily hiking in an area around Meilixueshan, whose range marks the beginning of the Himalayas and the border with Tibet. This, perhaps 10 or 20 miles away, is the closest we could get to Tibet without having to pay the massive fees and sometimes bribes required for a foreigner to gain access.
The Sun rising on Meilixueshan:
Sittin' on top o' the world:
The first day of hiking turned out to be pretty difficult; we had two elevation changes of more than 3000 feet, and we had to take pack horses for some of the steeper sections at higher elevations, which marked the first time I have ever been on a horse that I can remember. I'm not sure it made the trip any faster, as my horse stopped every 10 steps or so to poop or munch or rest, but it did save our energy. There was one scary moment, when the horse started slipping on some ice and almost buckled beneath me, but luckily he maintained his balance and I was able to hop off.
Xidang village:
A goat farmer on the trail:
Taking pack horses to the pass:
Once the trail became icy and snowy, we had to walk ourselves.
Near Nazongla pass at 13,000 feet, we met up with a guide and he invited us to stay in the guest house he and his family fun in a small Tibetan village called Upper Yubeng. After his sister cooked dinner, we were invited to a night of singing, dancing, and drinking with the whole town, which numbered around 30 people. At one point Tyler and I were urged to give a performance, and since all of the Tibetan songs were really old, we tried to think of an old American folk song, but the best we could come up with was "Amazing Grace". We planned on singing "Sweet Home Alabama" next, but we went to sleep before we got the chance to do so. There were only two other "foreigners" present--a couple from Shanghai--which meant that Mandarin was a second language for all of us. I think Tyler's and my American accent remained closer to Mandarin than did the Tibetan accent, as it was very hard to understand. Unfortunately, experiences like this may become fewer and fewer as China encourages the Han majority to move into minority regions--traditionally areas of resistance and separatist movements--to better control the areas.
Upper Yubeng village:
The dining room of the house next to which we slept; this is the only heating available. The brother of the guide with whom we met up with is playing a traditional two-stringed Chinese instrument.
A recently slaughtered pig drying, on the floor above the living quarters.
One of the women of the village dancing. Relatively few women were present, so Tyler and I think this may have been a matriarchal village.
And videos of a few of the men and women in song and dance:
The hiking was much smoother the next day, with us making a loop back around near to where we had begun. Here I am at the Mekong River, or Lan Cang Jiang in Chinese, which has its source in Tibetan and winds its way south into Vietnam.
We managed to get a ride back to Deqin for the nights, and the next morning we were back on our way to Zhongdian. After a hellish bus ride (because of the "passengers" and their "pets", but more on that one later), we were back at the Potala Cafe eating yak products. We also had time to visit Zhongdian's claim to fame, its Tibetan Buddhist monastery that houses more than 400 monks. Destroyed in the 1960s during the Cultural Revolution, it was allowed to begin operating again during the 1980s.
Ganden Sumsteling Monastery:
We slept another night in the inn with the leaky toilet, because we were able to get the discount again. As it had done last time we were in Zhongdian, a significant amount of snow felt, but because we had encountered no problems the previous time, we assumed we would be able to take a bus the next morning with no difficulties. Unfortunately, it turned into bus ride #2 from hell (again, more on that in the next post, but because of external forces, but then the passengers as well). We did finally arrive at our destination, though, the largely forgettable Baishuitai, or White Water Terraces, on our way to Tiger Leaping Gorge. The one consolation was that our accommodation cost us only 7.5RMB per person, marking the first time I have ever slept in a "hotel" for less than one dollar.
Baishuitai. One of the holy sights of the Naxi minority, the limestone terraces have been formed over thousands of years by high carbonic acid content in the spring water.
It continued to snow all night and into the next day, hampering our plans to hike from the town of Habba to Tiger Leaping Gorge, so after we took a bus from Baishuitai to Habba, we just hired a car to drive us to the more official beginning of the gorge near Walnut Grove; luckily, we only had to get out and push the car once. We ate a lunch including the Chinese dumplings I have ever eaten, fried yak cheese jiaozi, but because we got a late start, we only hiked for about four hours to the Tea Horse Guest House, and then finished the hike in Qiaotou the next day.
Hiking in Tiger Leaping Gorge. The gorge gets its name from a legend stating that, because it is so narrow in some places, a tiger once escaped pursuit by leaping across it:
After stopping in Lijiang, which has perhaps the most developed and more touristy "Old City" in the area, and is the most preferred by Chinese tourists, we took a sleeper bus to arrive back in Kunming for a few nights before Tyler had to depart. We woke up at 5:30am the next day to catch the Superbowl at a bar in town, and for a while we were joined by only one other American, though a few others did show up after the sun rose. It was fun hearing the game explained to an Englishman, and I expect it to be the most random place I ever watch the Superbowl. Later in the day we went to the Bamboo Temple north of town, which was well kept but not particularly unique, though it did have quite large collection of intimidating Buddhas in all poses and shapes imaginable.
Looking over the Old City in Lijiang:
The Bamboo Temple:
The rest of the time, though, we pretty much just relaxed, since most of the trip we had awakened early either to catch a bus or begin hiking. We renewed our ping pong rivalry and indulged in delicious ethnic food in the region, much of it inspired my the more tropical south and often incorporating fruits like pineapple.
Banana Pancakes:
I also hoped to find some cheese to take back to Weihai in one of the 50 or so Wal-Marts in China (yes, they're even here), but as you can tell by the picture below (look in the bottom right corner), I didn't really find what I was looking for.
Seriously, if you can produce something like chocolate cheese, why not have standard cheese?
As you already know, I have a two-month vacation between semesters of teaching, and Tyler Harlan decided to stop over for a few weeks on his way to Australia to study. I met him in chilly Beijing on January 23, and after a couple of days to recover from jetlag and to meet up with old friends in Beijing, we were off to the relative warmness of Kunming, capital of Yunnan province and holder of the title "City of Eternal Spring". Yunnan borders Tibet (and other provinces such as Sichuan, Guizhou and Guangxi) as well as the countries of Burma, Laos, and Vietnam. China has 55 recognized minority groups and many more than remain unrecognized by the government, and because of its borders with so many different different lands, Yunnan is home to at least 28 of these groups.
Because Tyler had to catch a train on February 7 to be able to fly to Australia on February 9, we decided to take a bus to the northern part of Yunnan as soon as we landed in Kunming, because there we expected to find the best hiking. After a bus ride of about 6 hours, we were in Dali, which has recently become a sort of hangout for foreign hippies. The Chinese government has recognized this, or spurred it on, by tearing down much of the city and rebuilding it with more traditional-style Chinese buildings. As much as harmony between nature and human construction is praised in the principles of fengshui, it seems to have been largely ignored in most modern Chinese cities, and while the government's decision has made the city more attractive, it has also morphed it into a Chinese version of Disneyland, sans rides. To escape this, Tyler and I rented bikes one day and rode down to the nearby lake and surrounding villages.
The Old Town of Dali:
Riding through small villages near Dali:
And to Erhai, a lake near Dali:
Women working and their children playing in a small village near Dali:
After a couple of nights in Dali, we were ready for an 8-hour bus trip to Zhongdian, which has recently been renamed Shangri-la by either the national or local government. They, too, are in the process of tearing down the Soviet-style buildings and replacing them with more traditional ones, but luckily this process is not so far along as it is in Dali, and some character has been able to survive in the city. Tyler and I quickly made the Potala cafe our home, eating there no less than 5 times during the two different nights we stayed in Zhongdian. Since 80 percent of the town was Tibetan, the menu featured such specialties as yak butter tea, fried dried yak meat, and fried yak cheese. The first tastes as you would expect, a little salty and oily but good; the second is similar to beef jerky; and the third is the most delicious. Tyler and I ordered it every chance we got. The closest thing I can think of to describe it is slightly tart, slightly chewy ripe yogurt. I know that sounds disgusting, but if you ever get the chance to try it, don't hesitate.
I must recount one particular time we were bargaining for a room, this time in Zhongdian. Bargaining is an essential part of Chinese life, and the vendors and merchants stop at nothing to sell at the highest price possible. I believe the conversation between Tyler and the hotel proprietor went something like this (but in Chinese):
Tyler: I think our toilet is broken, it won't flush.
Proprietor: Hmm, maybe you just need to wait for the water to fill up.
T: Well, it didn't even work when we got here.
P: Well, it's not a big problem.
T: Well, my crap is still in there.
P: Hold on, I need to go fix the toilet cover (that he had just dropped on the floor).
T: (5 minutes later) I think our toilet is leaking onto the bathroom floor.
P: No, it doesn't.
T: Yes I will show you.
P: (After watching fecal water run out of the toilet onto the floor) Ok, a "small" leak.
T: Well, can we have a discount?
P: (After some thinking) Ok, 40 kuai (a discount of 10 kuai).
At the end of the day folks, if the turd is still in the toilet, something's got to be done. Needless to say, our bathroom floor smelled like dung for our stay at this particular inn.
Surprisingly, the further north and the colder we got, the more basic the accommodation became. I don't understand why, because the Tibetans still seemed to be cold and woke up shivering just like the rest of us. Clearly they have fire, but I guess they just haven't learned to use it to continually heat their houses. No rooms had heat, and most had only cold water. That meant waking up more often than not with ice on the windows and our breath visible in the cold air. Some rooms provided heating blankets, but in general the only hot water that was available came from boiling it and placing it in thermoses. This resulted in a number of misshapen and too-hot-to-touch water bottles:
We watched some traditional Tibetan dancing in a square that night (one of the few squares in all of China, I have come to realize), but before long it started to snow. This led to a snowball fight with some local kids and a group of Chinese travelers, and to warm up Tyler and I had a few bottles of the worst and second-worst tasting beer I've ever had, Dali and Lan Cang Jiang beer. Unfortunately, they're pretty much all you can get in the area, but luckily, they haven't been able to gain acceptance elsewhere.
Chorten in the Old Town in Zhongdian, aka Shangri-la:
Dancing in the square:
And a short time later after a snowball fight:
The two worst beers on the planet get three thumbs down!
Tyler and I were a little worried that the snow might prevent us from taking a bus further north the next day, but luckily the roads were fine, and we arrived in Deqin after a trip of 7 hours. Deqin turned out to be a really ugly town, so we took a short taxi ride a little bit further to Feilai Si (Temple), where we began hiking the next morning. We were primarily hiking in an area around Meilixueshan, whose range marks the beginning of the Himalayas and the border with Tibet. This, perhaps 10 or 20 miles away, is the closest we could get to Tibet without having to pay the massive fees and sometimes bribes required for a foreigner to gain access.
The Sun rising on Meilixueshan:
Sittin' on top o' the world:
The first day of hiking turned out to be pretty difficult; we had two elevation changes of more than 3000 feet, and we had to take pack horses for some of the steeper sections at higher elevations, which marked the first time I have ever been on a horse that I can remember. I'm not sure it made the trip any faster, as my horse stopped every 10 steps or so to poop or munch or rest, but it did save our energy. There was one scary moment, when the horse started slipping on some ice and almost buckled beneath me, but luckily he maintained his balance and I was able to hop off.
Xidang village:
A goat farmer on the trail:
Taking pack horses to the pass:
Once the trail became icy and snowy, we had to walk ourselves.
Near Nazongla pass at 13,000 feet, we met up with a guide and he invited us to stay in the guest house he and his family fun in a small Tibetan village called Upper Yubeng. After his sister cooked dinner, we were invited to a night of singing, dancing, and drinking with the whole town, which numbered around 30 people. At one point Tyler and I were urged to give a performance, and since all of the Tibetan songs were really old, we tried to think of an old American folk song, but the best we could come up with was "Amazing Grace". We planned on singing "Sweet Home Alabama" next, but we went to sleep before we got the chance to do so. There were only two other "foreigners" present--a couple from Shanghai--which meant that Mandarin was a second language for all of us. I think Tyler's and my American accent remained closer to Mandarin than did the Tibetan accent, as it was very hard to understand. Unfortunately, experiences like this may become fewer and fewer as China encourages the Han majority to move into minority regions--traditionally areas of resistance and separatist movements--to better control the areas.
Upper Yubeng village:
The dining room of the house next to which we slept; this is the only heating available. The brother of the guide with whom we met up with is playing a traditional two-stringed Chinese instrument.
A recently slaughtered pig drying, on the floor above the living quarters.
One of the women of the village dancing. Relatively few women were present, so Tyler and I think this may have been a matriarchal village.
And videos of a few of the men and women in song and dance:
The hiking was much smoother the next day, with us making a loop back around near to where we had begun. Here I am at the Mekong River, or Lan Cang Jiang in Chinese, which has its source in Tibetan and winds its way south into Vietnam.
We managed to get a ride back to Deqin for the nights, and the next morning we were back on our way to Zhongdian. After a hellish bus ride (because of the "passengers" and their "pets", but more on that one later), we were back at the Potala Cafe eating yak products. We also had time to visit Zhongdian's claim to fame, its Tibetan Buddhist monastery that houses more than 400 monks. Destroyed in the 1960s during the Cultural Revolution, it was allowed to begin operating again during the 1980s.
Ganden Sumsteling Monastery:
We slept another night in the inn with the leaky toilet, because we were able to get the discount again. As it had done last time we were in Zhongdian, a significant amount of snow felt, but because we had encountered no problems the previous time, we assumed we would be able to take a bus the next morning with no difficulties. Unfortunately, it turned into bus ride #2 from hell (again, more on that in the next post, but because of external forces, but then the passengers as well). We did finally arrive at our destination, though, the largely forgettable Baishuitai, or White Water Terraces, on our way to Tiger Leaping Gorge. The one consolation was that our accommodation cost us only 7.5RMB per person, marking the first time I have ever slept in a "hotel" for less than one dollar.
Baishuitai. One of the holy sights of the Naxi minority, the limestone terraces have been formed over thousands of years by high carbonic acid content in the spring water.
It continued to snow all night and into the next day, hampering our plans to hike from the town of Habba to Tiger Leaping Gorge, so after we took a bus from Baishuitai to Habba, we just hired a car to drive us to the more official beginning of the gorge near Walnut Grove; luckily, we only had to get out and push the car once. We ate a lunch including the Chinese dumplings I have ever eaten, fried yak cheese jiaozi, but because we got a late start, we only hiked for about four hours to the Tea Horse Guest House, and then finished the hike in Qiaotou the next day.
Hiking in Tiger Leaping Gorge. The gorge gets its name from a legend stating that, because it is so narrow in some places, a tiger once escaped pursuit by leaping across it:
After stopping in Lijiang, which has perhaps the most developed and more touristy "Old City" in the area, and is the most preferred by Chinese tourists, we took a sleeper bus to arrive back in Kunming for a few nights before Tyler had to depart. We woke up at 5:30am the next day to catch the Superbowl at a bar in town, and for a while we were joined by only one other American, though a few others did show up after the sun rose. It was fun hearing the game explained to an Englishman, and I expect it to be the most random place I ever watch the Superbowl. Later in the day we went to the Bamboo Temple north of town, which was well kept but not particularly unique, though it did have quite large collection of intimidating Buddhas in all poses and shapes imaginable.
Looking over the Old City in Lijiang:
The Bamboo Temple:
The rest of the time, though, we pretty much just relaxed, since most of the trip we had awakened early either to catch a bus or begin hiking. We renewed our ping pong rivalry and indulged in delicious ethnic food in the region, much of it inspired my the more tropical south and often incorporating fruits like pineapple.
Banana Pancakes:
I also hoped to find some cheese to take back to Weihai in one of the 50 or so Wal-Marts in China (yes, they're even here), but as you can tell by the picture below (look in the bottom right corner), I didn't really find what I was looking for.
Seriously, if you can produce something like chocolate cheese, why not have standard cheese?
posted by Mysteries of The Orient at 1:16 AM
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