village life

Yep, I'm really living out in the sticks now. Though at least I can walk across to Lige when I want to jump on the net or have a coffee (though the coffee here is too expensive). I think there was a very small earthquake here last night. I'm not completely sure because I've never experienced one, but for about a minute in the early hours this morning I woke up and the bed felt like it was vibrating. But so softly that I think I might not have noticed it if I had been up and walking around. Nothing was rattling or anything but I could here some dogs barking. When I woke I thought I might have dreamt it, but then I walked down to Lige and there had been a landslide overnight basically blocking the bottom section of road with dirt and broken rocks. There were still some pebbles rolling down. All the tourist buses that leave Lige every morning would have been stuck there except they kind of flattened out the rubble so they could drive up over it to get to the road. But they didn't seem to be letting any more cars in. They were making them park on the road. It could also have been partly caused by a lot of roadworks around this area at the moment. But the landslide wasn't directly where the trucks had been driving around and digging up the road.

Anyway, I might wait a few more days before I go back to Lijiang. In any case, I still have plenty of cash and the friend I was going to meet in Lijiang on the 28th won't be there after all, not till after spring festival (Chinese new year). I walked down to Lige this morning because the family was going to be doing a heap of cleaning and the girl wouldn't have time to work with me. It's a fine sunny morning so it was a nice walk down here and I might have a shower while I am here and wash a few dirty clothes that I left here. We have been getting a lot of work done- which I think is more exhausting for me than for her. I realised this morning, of course, that she is comfortable and fluent in Mosuo and Chinese, while I am comfortable and fluent in neither. She speaks no English, so we do everything through the medium of Chinese. We spend some time working with the recorded texts (stories recorded by her mum) trying to translate them into Chinese. I mean, she can easily just tell me in Chinese what they mean, but writing down each word in Mosuo and working out what it means is time consuming and not exactly riveting. Then we spend time with her teaching me to say things in Mosuo.

The work side of things has been fine but there have also been some cultural things that have been difficult for me to cope with. Somehow I can take on board the lack of hygiene, privacy, different food, discomfort, all the external stuff. The thing I'm finding difficult to cope with at the moment is quite different- it relates to their ideas of hospitality. These involve doing absolutely everything for me and telling me what to do a lot. I'm used to living out of home, being pretty independent, looking after myself. If I want to take my own plate to the sink I have to be quick. When I go to fill a basin with water to wash my face or my feet, they insist on filling it for me. When we're eating meat with bones on it, we just drop the bones on the floor and I'd noticed them picking them up to give to the dog or whatever, so after I finished eating my meal I picked up the bones I had dropped and put them in my bowl. I was sternly told off by the older sister who insisted on doing it myself.

The hardest time is during every meal, though. From the moment the bowl of rice is placed in front of me, at least 2 or 3 family members will look up every minute or two and say "Chi ba" meaning "Eat!" quite sternly. It makes absolutely no difference if I have my mouth full of food and have more food poised on my chopsticks, they will still encourage me to eat and even ask "Don't you like the food?" Then to further emphasise the point that I'm obviously starving to death, they will pick up more meat with their chopsticks and press it into my bowl. Even the six year old joins in. Then, if the rice in my bowl is hovering below the halfway mark, someone will be instantly standing there with a ladle full of rice, waiting to refill it. Anyone who knows me will know that I have a pretty hearty appetite and I've never in my life been accused of not eating enough before. Now I've watched and I think I eat about the same as everyone else. About 2 bowls of rice plus meat and vegetables. Or for breakfast a bowl of rice and a couple of chunks of a thick local pancake. Having someone harass me to eat every 30 seconds during every meal and press food into my bowl (which I am perfectly capable of getting myself) is driving me nuts. On the first day I nodded politely and smiled. By the second day I was saying "I'm eating, I'm eating!" By the third day I was saying "I'm eating a lot! I'm eating everything! Why do you say I'm not eating? I'm really full!- Please stop watching me eat. Let me eat by myself- I don't need help".

Since living there I've completely forgotten what it feels like to get an appetite. The next meal rolls around and I feel like I've barely finished the last one. I've started trying to eat more slowly, so that they try to refill my bowl less often, and sitting further back from the table, so it's harder for them to physically put food in my bowl (some of which I genuinely don't want to eat- like large lumps of pork fat). This attention is not directed to anyone else- who are all allowed to eat as much or as little as they please without scrutiny. I know all this sounds stupid- but I feel like every meal I receive severe criticism- I really don't look forward to meals at the moment though the food is generally fine. The odd thing is I think they're doing it to be hospitable.

Hopefully, I can get them to stop treating me like an invalid or a three year old otherwise it's going to be very difficult to continue living there, despite the fact that I'm getting a lot of work done.