Yesterday we stayed close to the guesthouse as it rained all day. Did an interview and in the afternoon went looking for a shower. The first two were broken but I got lucky at the third place which told me to come back in an hour by which time the water would have heated up! So I did. In the evening we went out with two guys from Guilin. They are 'punkers' with long hair, leather jackets and tatoos. Very unChineselike. They were taking lots of photos of themselves in beautiful settings (by the lake, on a mountain, etc) standing around in the nude. It's pretty cold here too. Wasn't quite what we expected when they offered to show us their holiday snaps on their digital camera.
Anyway, we went out to a bar and they played guitars and an harmonica and sang. They are pretty good and also know a lot of Western music as they hate Chinese pop. So we sang along to guns n roses, nirvana, red hot chilli peppers, the beatles, etc. There was only about half a dozen people there and we were all sitting around a fire, so it was a lot of fun. The bar kicked us out at 11.30pm.
This morning we got up earlyish and went with Lance and a Chinese tourist into Yongning. We went to the buddhist monastery there and then went and bought fresh fruit from the market as well as toilet paper, bottled water and some yoghurt. Then the Norwegian girl and I caught a lorry to Luoshui. It got stuck in the gutter at one point but managed to manouever out. I have a few things I want to do here and then I'm going back to Lige tomorrow. We got very excited about the ensuite bathroom and the prospect of fresh coffee and cheese on toast.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Friday, March 25, 2005
Easter
Happy birthday Dad.
If my Dad was still around he would be 84 today, 25th of March. The interesting thing is that when he was born in 1921 it was also Good Friday, just like today. It doesn't come around very often that you have Good Friday in late March, so I decided to make a special mention of it. I imagine he would celebrate his birthday by sitting out on the porch with a glass of red wine, spinning yarns and having a laugh with anyone who cared to join him, in the late afternoon. He was just that kind of guy. In fact, that's how he spent every afternoon. He might tell you about his childhood in Cornwall, his navy days during WWII, maybe something about farming, animals, travel, history or politics; what his kids are doing, or the latest project that he and Mum were planning (usually something involving travel or house / garden renovation). He might even tell you that salt and fat were good for your health and one of these days the nutritionists would figure that out. I find it a little hard to imagine what he would say about me studying a minority language in rural south-west China, but I suspect he would think it was pretty cool and would be sure to tell everyone about it. Though he did used to say that he didn't really believe Chinese people really used chopsticks all the time, he was sure that was just a rumour or exaggeration!
If my Dad was still around he would be 84 today, 25th of March. The interesting thing is that when he was born in 1921 it was also Good Friday, just like today. It doesn't come around very often that you have Good Friday in late March, so I decided to make a special mention of it. I imagine he would celebrate his birthday by sitting out on the porch with a glass of red wine, spinning yarns and having a laugh with anyone who cared to join him, in the late afternoon. He was just that kind of guy. In fact, that's how he spent every afternoon. He might tell you about his childhood in Cornwall, his navy days during WWII, maybe something about farming, animals, travel, history or politics; what his kids are doing, or the latest project that he and Mum were planning (usually something involving travel or house / garden renovation). He might even tell you that salt and fat were good for your health and one of these days the nutritionists would figure that out. I find it a little hard to imagine what he would say about me studying a minority language in rural south-west China, but I suspect he would think it was pretty cool and would be sure to tell everyone about it. Though he did used to say that he didn't really believe Chinese people really used chopsticks all the time, he was sure that was just a rumour or exaggeration!
Thursday, March 24, 2005
try again
I just posted this and it didn't work so now I have to try it again.
I met a Norwegian girl here yesterday who is just about to start her anthropological fieldwork research on Mosuo culture for her Masters degree. She'd been in China about nine weeks and spent time with friends in Hong Kong, Kunming and Lijiang and has only just arrived at the lake the last couple of days. My impression after talking with her last night and this morning is that she is almost completely unprepared. She doesn't speak Chinese, and apparently didn't realise that almost no one here would speak English. She also doesn't seem to have read much of the literature on Mosuo people either, which can't help. We get along quite well, I'm just finding it difficult to imagine what she will find out in a couple of months. Oh and she's vegetarian. Not sure what she's going to eat for the next couple of months either. You've heard enough of my complaints about the rule of pork to understand why. Even vegetables and potatoes are fried in pork fat.
This doesn't sound very nice but I suddenly feel like I'm coping fine and have got a lot done. Just by comparison of course. I might go out to a village and do some interviews after this. I'll take her along maybe and she can watch or something. Acted as interpreter last night as she asked my friend at the guesthouse questions about Mosuo culture. That certainly stretched my skills. He was trying to explain the difference between walking marriage and a one night stand. Evidently 'one night stand' was not in my dictionary in English or in Chinese, so we had to use the descriptive method, which got quite funny.
eg. Imagine him saying in Chinese
'well it's sex, you know the word 'sex' right?'
Me 'yes, you mean sex where the next day you don't have a relationship anymore, where you can walk away and find someone else for sex'
Him 'yes, but walking marriage is different to that. Young men nowadays just want 'one night stand' but then they call it 'walking marriage' to try to sleep with the tourists, which is ruining the meaning of walking marriage, ruining Mosuo culture'
Me' I don't recognise that word you used, 'ruining'.
(We get dictionary, look up Chinese word that means 'ruining')
I say 'aaah, yes I understand'
Him 'Yes, but walking marriage is between two people who have very strong feelings for each other, who are talking about love. It is just much freer than other marriage because you don't live together so there is no pressure to find someone wealthy, or to worry about money, and if you don't love each other any more you just break up'
Me 'Would I be right in saying that local boys generally don't have one night stands with local girls, just with tourists?'
Him 'Yes, the village would shun him / send him away if he had one night stands with local girls'
I translate all this to Norwegian girl.
Her 'Is that exactly what he said?'
Me 'Yes, more or less, that's what I understood'
Her 'But I don't understand why they don't want to move in together if they are in love?'
Me 'Well because they sleep together every night anyway and their ties to their maternal family are strong'
Her 'Are they allowed to see each other during the day?'
Me 'I'll ask....'
And so on...
I met a Norwegian girl here yesterday who is just about to start her anthropological fieldwork research on Mosuo culture for her Masters degree. She'd been in China about nine weeks and spent time with friends in Hong Kong, Kunming and Lijiang and has only just arrived at the lake the last couple of days. My impression after talking with her last night and this morning is that she is almost completely unprepared. She doesn't speak Chinese, and apparently didn't realise that almost no one here would speak English. She also doesn't seem to have read much of the literature on Mosuo people either, which can't help. We get along quite well, I'm just finding it difficult to imagine what she will find out in a couple of months. Oh and she's vegetarian. Not sure what she's going to eat for the next couple of months either. You've heard enough of my complaints about the rule of pork to understand why. Even vegetables and potatoes are fried in pork fat.
This doesn't sound very nice but I suddenly feel like I'm coping fine and have got a lot done. Just by comparison of course. I might go out to a village and do some interviews after this. I'll take her along maybe and she can watch or something. Acted as interpreter last night as she asked my friend at the guesthouse questions about Mosuo culture. That certainly stretched my skills. He was trying to explain the difference between walking marriage and a one night stand. Evidently 'one night stand' was not in my dictionary in English or in Chinese, so we had to use the descriptive method, which got quite funny.
eg. Imagine him saying in Chinese
'well it's sex, you know the word 'sex' right?'
Me 'yes, you mean sex where the next day you don't have a relationship anymore, where you can walk away and find someone else for sex'
Him 'yes, but walking marriage is different to that. Young men nowadays just want 'one night stand' but then they call it 'walking marriage' to try to sleep with the tourists, which is ruining the meaning of walking marriage, ruining Mosuo culture'
Me' I don't recognise that word you used, 'ruining'.
(We get dictionary, look up Chinese word that means 'ruining')
I say 'aaah, yes I understand'
Him 'Yes, but walking marriage is between two people who have very strong feelings for each other, who are talking about love. It is just much freer than other marriage because you don't live together so there is no pressure to find someone wealthy, or to worry about money, and if you don't love each other any more you just break up'
Me 'Would I be right in saying that local boys generally don't have one night stands with local girls, just with tourists?'
Him 'Yes, the village would shun him / send him away if he had one night stands with local girls'
I translate all this to Norwegian girl.
Her 'Is that exactly what he said?'
Me 'Yes, more or less, that's what I understood'
Her 'But I don't understand why they don't want to move in together if they are in love?'
Me 'Well because they sleep together every night anyway and their ties to their maternal family are strong'
Her 'Are they allowed to see each other during the day?'
Me 'I'll ask....'
And so on...
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Zebo village
Yesterday, a 16 year old Mosuo girl who I've become friends with here in Luoshui took me to visit her village, Zebo. We left around midday, got a taxibus to Yongning and from there we walked about an hour to her village. It was a pleasant walk except that after 20 minutes she started worrying that I might be tired or that my feet might be hurting. She explained to me that she knew westerners don't walk much, they ride their bikes everywhere!
It was a bit overcast as we got there, but it is really a very pretty village. The blossoms on the trees have just come out, people were working in the fields and the village is nestled just at the base of Gemu mountain. I sat in her home and interviewed her parents. She also took me to her friend's home to interview them. It was starting to get late (we didn't get away from Luoshui very early)and we were about to start walking back to Luoshui when it started raining. I really wanted to get back to Luoshui that night and I hadn't brought any of my things with me. Anyway, her brother said that he wanted to drive back to Luoshui that evening too and we could go with him. But first his truck, which had a load of roof tiles in the back, needed to be unloaded. Everyone donned gloves and started unloading. I tried to get them to give me some gloves but they refused and told me to sit down and have a rest!
Then I tried to help without gloves (as a few people were doing) but the tiles are filthy, they are curved and feel like theyre made of coal, and the people on the truck refused to pass them to me. They were concerned my hands would get dirty. I stood there feeling annoyed and frustrated- I don't really appreciate being subjected to stereotypes that westerners (and particularly western women) are incapable of any physical work, and that uni students have never done a days work in their lives anyway. I stood there fuming, recalling the many jobs of done that were more unpleasant, dirty and heavier than unloading a few tiles and felt frustrated that I couldn't communicate that. As the work continued, I saw my chance. They pulled away one of the side slats as the truck became emptier and from there it was possible to just reach in a grab a stack of tiles.
This is exactly what I did as I flashed my very angry, determined expression at the guy on the truck, warning him not to get in my way (Scott can probably describe this look to you quite well) and started helping. They gave in then and gave me some gloves. The mood lightened after that and we joked as we unloaded the truck. Then the girl tried to get me to sing something but I got out of that saying I don't know how to sing, just know how to unload stuff.
Then we washed our hands, three of us piled into the front seat of the truck, next to the driver, and as the sun set we drove across the unmade, heavily potholed roads, back to Luoshui.
Sat down with the brother who drove us and his friend who came along and had tea. Then we started drinking beer. Spent the evening talking and joking and drinking. At one point he started calling me 'Australian kangaroo' (Aodaliya de daishu) and I recall us all playing a game where we threw sunflower seeds at each other and tried to catch them in our mouths and they taught me how to eat sunflower seeds the Mosuo way, by crunching them up between your teeth and spitting out the shells. Then they had to duck as I spat a little too enthusiastically! Hey if you can't do it in China....
It was a bit overcast as we got there, but it is really a very pretty village. The blossoms on the trees have just come out, people were working in the fields and the village is nestled just at the base of Gemu mountain. I sat in her home and interviewed her parents. She also took me to her friend's home to interview them. It was starting to get late (we didn't get away from Luoshui very early)and we were about to start walking back to Luoshui when it started raining. I really wanted to get back to Luoshui that night and I hadn't brought any of my things with me. Anyway, her brother said that he wanted to drive back to Luoshui that evening too and we could go with him. But first his truck, which had a load of roof tiles in the back, needed to be unloaded. Everyone donned gloves and started unloading. I tried to get them to give me some gloves but they refused and told me to sit down and have a rest!
Then I tried to help without gloves (as a few people were doing) but the tiles are filthy, they are curved and feel like theyre made of coal, and the people on the truck refused to pass them to me. They were concerned my hands would get dirty. I stood there feeling annoyed and frustrated- I don't really appreciate being subjected to stereotypes that westerners (and particularly western women) are incapable of any physical work, and that uni students have never done a days work in their lives anyway. I stood there fuming, recalling the many jobs of done that were more unpleasant, dirty and heavier than unloading a few tiles and felt frustrated that I couldn't communicate that. As the work continued, I saw my chance. They pulled away one of the side slats as the truck became emptier and from there it was possible to just reach in a grab a stack of tiles.
This is exactly what I did as I flashed my very angry, determined expression at the guy on the truck, warning him not to get in my way (Scott can probably describe this look to you quite well) and started helping. They gave in then and gave me some gloves. The mood lightened after that and we joked as we unloaded the truck. Then the girl tried to get me to sing something but I got out of that saying I don't know how to sing, just know how to unload stuff.
Then we washed our hands, three of us piled into the front seat of the truck, next to the driver, and as the sun set we drove across the unmade, heavily potholed roads, back to Luoshui.
Sat down with the brother who drove us and his friend who came along and had tea. Then we started drinking beer. Spent the evening talking and joking and drinking. At one point he started calling me 'Australian kangaroo' (Aodaliya de daishu) and I recall us all playing a game where we threw sunflower seeds at each other and tried to catch them in our mouths and they taught me how to eat sunflower seeds the Mosuo way, by crunching them up between your teeth and spitting out the shells. Then they had to duck as I spat a little too enthusiastically! Hey if you can't do it in China....
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Luoshui again
I've been here in ultra touristy Luoshui for a few days now. Trying to get interviews with locals here is more difficult then the villages. People are more reluctant, maybe more cynical. But I've become friends with the old guy who speaks English and he's provided some introductions. Think I'll have to go back to Lige tomorrow. Run out of clothes. I only packed for a couple of days and have been gone a week.
Anyway, this was on a sign I saw up in Lijiang on the hill. There is a buddhist monastery there and a large park you can walk around. There was a sign in the entrance:
"No Hunting in Religious Free Captive Animals Area"
On tv the other day there was a Korean band called Loveholic which sang in Korean with just the chorus in English which went:
"I love you always, just like a shining spring. I love you always, just like a happy christmas"
Just wanted to send that message out to all my friends ;)
Anyway, this was on a sign I saw up in Lijiang on the hill. There is a buddhist monastery there and a large park you can walk around. There was a sign in the entrance:
"No Hunting in Religious Free Captive Animals Area"
On tv the other day there was a Korean band called Loveholic which sang in Korean with just the chorus in English which went:
"I love you always, just like a shining spring. I love you always, just like a happy christmas"
Just wanted to send that message out to all my friends ;)
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
And back again
Well I've had a couple of very nice days in ole Lijiang. Caught the bus down on Saturday. Pretty smooth trip. Saturday night I had a fantastic hot shower, got dressed up (Put on a clean top and jeans) and went out to Prague cafe for pizza and to watch a dvd on their couch upstairs. I was about half an hour into the movie when Hunter called and said, "come out with us, we are going to a bar for a party" I was tired but agreed to do the social thing. Met him and some others who had also joined him and we walked into the new part of town where we waited around for over half an hour for someone else he was supposed to be meeting. He was obviously getting frustrated, and eventually walked up to us, said "She's not coming" and just walked off. We were left feeling somewhat bewildered, and I was more than a little annoyed. Walked back to old town, where I was staying, back to Prague cafe and finished watching my movie.
Sunday morning I ran around doing banking and buying stuff I need, etc. Had lunch at a cool little cafe called Hakuna Matata, which serves excellent Chinese and Western food. Went back to Prague cafe in the afternoon to relax and watch another dvd. In the evening I decided to go back there again for tea and ran into my friend Gemma. After Hunter rang me last week and said Gemma was coming to Lijiang and could I come, I had been looking forward to seeing her, but after Hunter's performance the night before, I still had no way of contacting her as he was my point of contact, and not surprisingly, I hadn't heard from him anymore. I walked into the Prague and she was sitting at the table there having tea. We had a good catch-up and went for a bit of a walk later on and ate some watermelon.
Monday was frustrating. I walked all over New Town all morning looking for some recording stuff I wanted, and discovered that you can't buy it in Lijiang. Rang up the Dutch guy I met last week at Lugu lake and we had lunch at a little Italian restaurant run by a French chef. Had a fantastic salad; my first in months! After lunch he took me on the back of his motorbike to see Pencil mountain, which was very beautiful and has a large buddhist monastery and parklands and lake on top. It was a lovely warm day, and I was actually able to wear a t-shirt without any kind of jumper and jacket and feel warm! It was lovely sitting under a pagoda in the sun looking down on the lake and Lijiang in the distance. Got back to Lijiang in the late afternoon and went back to the Italian place for a pizza. It still wasn't particularly cold and I sat out on the balcony with my pizza and beer. Scott would have loved it.
Then I went inside and got chatting again to the French chef and his Aussie mate. When the restaurant closed we all went out to a new bar in town, and sat on swings suspended from beams across the ceiling and I had a few gin and tonics. Then the French chef took us back to his home. He is renting it in Old town (the nice part of Lijiang). It's a beautiful old Naxi home with a huge courtyard. Very open plan. I could live in a place like that. And the rent's much cheaper than Aus....
Got back to my motel at about 2.30am. The gate was locked, which I expected, and I had to bang on the door and wake up the owner to get in. They don't seem to mind. Fell in to bed for a few hours sleep before getting up at 6.30 am to shower, pack and go back to Lugu Lake. The Dutch guy was going with some friends up to Ninglang this morning, so they offered me a lift that far, which was cool.
I caught a taxi down to where I had agreed to meet him and we had a car accident. It was quite odd actually as the taxi had just stopped to let me out. It was still quiet at that time of the morning too. She had parked just behind a van that was parked at right angles to the road, on the footpath. I was just starting to open the door to get out when the minivan, which was about two metres away from us, began backing out, straight towards my door. I was thinking "this guy's not serious, we've been stopped right behind him for nearly a minute" but he was apparently backing out without making any attempt to use his side mirrors or do a head check. The woman taxi driver started yelling at him, I quickly put my feet back into the car and closed the door again and a second later he backed straight into our taxi. The taxi driver yelled at him. He put his car back into first and slowly accelerated forward, looked out the window and saw that the taxi only had a bit of a dint, and then he turned left and drove off without even an apology.
The friends we were to be travelling with turned out to be colleagues of his Naxi wife, who used to work in a Lijiang orphanage. They're all Westerners who work for this orphan homes organisation, and they were going to finalise an agreement to start up a new orphanage in Lijiang. It was quite bizarre sitting in a van with half a dozen Westerners who all speak fluent Chinese. Except for my Dutch friend. They were very friendly and we chatted most of the time, so I didn't get to make up much sleep.
They dropped me off near the bus station in Ninglang and I looked around for a bus to Lugu Lake, and a guy said his van was waiting. I went with him and found that they didn't have any other passengers yet, so I would have to wait till they found some more. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any already half full minivans so I had to sit it out and wait with them for an hour until the next bus came in from Lijiang with passengers going to the lake. Ended up travelling with some locals, an older guy dressed in khaki from the army surplus store and a young buddhist monk in his long maroon robes. We all snored away in the back seat for most of the trip. We had to stop on one of the narrow mountain roads to change a flat tire. Then we were back in the van until we had to stop again when the monk got car sick and had to throw up beside the road.
Finally got to Luoshui and I went straight to my motel room, got into bed and slept for a couple of hours. I've just had a late dinner and a coffee at the Husi Teahouse, and now I think I'll go back and catch some more sleep. Good night fellow travellers.
Sunday morning I ran around doing banking and buying stuff I need, etc. Had lunch at a cool little cafe called Hakuna Matata, which serves excellent Chinese and Western food. Went back to Prague cafe in the afternoon to relax and watch another dvd. In the evening I decided to go back there again for tea and ran into my friend Gemma. After Hunter rang me last week and said Gemma was coming to Lijiang and could I come, I had been looking forward to seeing her, but after Hunter's performance the night before, I still had no way of contacting her as he was my point of contact, and not surprisingly, I hadn't heard from him anymore. I walked into the Prague and she was sitting at the table there having tea. We had a good catch-up and went for a bit of a walk later on and ate some watermelon.
Monday was frustrating. I walked all over New Town all morning looking for some recording stuff I wanted, and discovered that you can't buy it in Lijiang. Rang up the Dutch guy I met last week at Lugu lake and we had lunch at a little Italian restaurant run by a French chef. Had a fantastic salad; my first in months! After lunch he took me on the back of his motorbike to see Pencil mountain, which was very beautiful and has a large buddhist monastery and parklands and lake on top. It was a lovely warm day, and I was actually able to wear a t-shirt without any kind of jumper and jacket and feel warm! It was lovely sitting under a pagoda in the sun looking down on the lake and Lijiang in the distance. Got back to Lijiang in the late afternoon and went back to the Italian place for a pizza. It still wasn't particularly cold and I sat out on the balcony with my pizza and beer. Scott would have loved it.
Then I went inside and got chatting again to the French chef and his Aussie mate. When the restaurant closed we all went out to a new bar in town, and sat on swings suspended from beams across the ceiling and I had a few gin and tonics. Then the French chef took us back to his home. He is renting it in Old town (the nice part of Lijiang). It's a beautiful old Naxi home with a huge courtyard. Very open plan. I could live in a place like that. And the rent's much cheaper than Aus....
Got back to my motel at about 2.30am. The gate was locked, which I expected, and I had to bang on the door and wake up the owner to get in. They don't seem to mind. Fell in to bed for a few hours sleep before getting up at 6.30 am to shower, pack and go back to Lugu Lake. The Dutch guy was going with some friends up to Ninglang this morning, so they offered me a lift that far, which was cool.
I caught a taxi down to where I had agreed to meet him and we had a car accident. It was quite odd actually as the taxi had just stopped to let me out. It was still quiet at that time of the morning too. She had parked just behind a van that was parked at right angles to the road, on the footpath. I was just starting to open the door to get out when the minivan, which was about two metres away from us, began backing out, straight towards my door. I was thinking "this guy's not serious, we've been stopped right behind him for nearly a minute" but he was apparently backing out without making any attempt to use his side mirrors or do a head check. The woman taxi driver started yelling at him, I quickly put my feet back into the car and closed the door again and a second later he backed straight into our taxi. The taxi driver yelled at him. He put his car back into first and slowly accelerated forward, looked out the window and saw that the taxi only had a bit of a dint, and then he turned left and drove off without even an apology.
The friends we were to be travelling with turned out to be colleagues of his Naxi wife, who used to work in a Lijiang orphanage. They're all Westerners who work for this orphan homes organisation, and they were going to finalise an agreement to start up a new orphanage in Lijiang. It was quite bizarre sitting in a van with half a dozen Westerners who all speak fluent Chinese. Except for my Dutch friend. They were very friendly and we chatted most of the time, so I didn't get to make up much sleep.
They dropped me off near the bus station in Ninglang and I looked around for a bus to Lugu Lake, and a guy said his van was waiting. I went with him and found that they didn't have any other passengers yet, so I would have to wait till they found some more. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any already half full minivans so I had to sit it out and wait with them for an hour until the next bus came in from Lijiang with passengers going to the lake. Ended up travelling with some locals, an older guy dressed in khaki from the army surplus store and a young buddhist monk in his long maroon robes. We all snored away in the back seat for most of the trip. We had to stop on one of the narrow mountain roads to change a flat tire. Then we were back in the van until we had to stop again when the monk got car sick and had to throw up beside the road.
Finally got to Luoshui and I went straight to my motel room, got into bed and slept for a couple of hours. I've just had a late dinner and a coffee at the Husi Teahouse, and now I think I'll go back and catch some more sleep. Good night fellow travellers.
Friday, March 11, 2005
On the move again
Yesterday I spent several hours sitting out in the sun chatting with some Mosuo guys who were teaching me Mosuo words, which was good. I also came back and interviewed one of them. In the evening I had a headache though. I guess I sat in the sun a little too long.
Well, I hadn't planned to go to Lijiang till I finished interviewing, but I haven't finished and I think I'm going to go tomorrow. I definitely have to go mid next month, but I'll still need to go before then, so I may as well not put it off any longer. Anyway, I've run out of chocolate and conditioner. There are actually some less important things I need to buy for my research like stationery, etc!! Go to the bank. Put some more credit in my phone.
I found a beautiful little shop here yesterday that I'd never been into. It was run by the guy I interviewed and sold Mosuo garments and bags that his sister hand weaves. I'm definitely going to buy some stuff. Also, in Luoshui (the touristy Mosuo town) that a lot of the shops had goods that were identical to what you can find in Lijiang, ie. probably Naxi, or just goods that look kind of ethnic and are mass produced for tourists. I'm not sure who they think they're kidding because it's almost impossible to get to the lake from the Yunnan side without going through Lijiang, and nearly all tourists spend time there first. It's quite obvious that the items can't be local.
Well, I hadn't planned to go to Lijiang till I finished interviewing, but I haven't finished and I think I'm going to go tomorrow. I definitely have to go mid next month, but I'll still need to go before then, so I may as well not put it off any longer. Anyway, I've run out of chocolate and conditioner. There are actually some less important things I need to buy for my research like stationery, etc!! Go to the bank. Put some more credit in my phone.
I found a beautiful little shop here yesterday that I'd never been into. It was run by the guy I interviewed and sold Mosuo garments and bags that his sister hand weaves. I'm definitely going to buy some stuff. Also, in Luoshui (the touristy Mosuo town) that a lot of the shops had goods that were identical to what you can find in Lijiang, ie. probably Naxi, or just goods that look kind of ethnic and are mass produced for tourists. I'm not sure who they think they're kidding because it's almost impossible to get to the lake from the Yunnan side without going through Lijiang, and nearly all tourists spend time there first. It's quite obvious that the items can't be local.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Holiday's over
Well, I have had a very relaxing week. Sometimes you need an enforced holiday. Sometimes you don't realise you need one. I realised that it's been a very long time since I've just had time out. I think I had a week last year in June where I did virtually nothing, but since then, even when I've been doing fun things it's been hectic. I've spent most of the last week chatting around a fire with a German woman who was staying here. That was very nice. She left for Lijiang this morning, so I think that's my signal to get back to work.
When did I last post? I can't remember. Well, two days ago the snow had pretty much melted, except in the mountains so we went for a walk to a nearby village and a family invited us in for a snack of tiny crispy fish and fried potatoes. (At Y10 a head). Then we got a rowboat back to Lige. Soon after they served us a substantial evening meal of rice and lots of different dishes. Then at 10 pm someone walked in with a roast pig on a spit, which they had ordered earlier in the day! It was already roasted, so we took photos and then they chopped it up and put all the bits in a bowl above the fireplace. We sat around in a circle, ate pork, drank beer and played rock, paper, scissors: The rules were that if you lost you had to sing a song or skull a beer. Chinese people really like singing so they didn't exercise the second option. I chose the beer several times and then had newfound confidence to sing. I sang some Dutch children songs, and then tried to think of the shortest Australian song I knew, and gave a beautiful rendition of "Give me a home among the gum trees" followed by the first verse of "Waltzing Mathilda".
The next time I lost I explained that since my beer glass was empty I would sing about beer. I started singing "One hundred bottles of beer on the wall". For anyone not familiar, the beer bottles keep falling off the wall so you count down through "99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer on the wall, if one of those bottles should happen to fall there'd be 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer on the wall... etc." Everyone liked it and clapped, but eventually stopped me at 90 bottles. It was quite a funny night.
Yesterday was another lazy day. My sole activity being a short climb up the hill on Lige Isle where we sat and looked at the view. In the evening, we went to the guesthouse next door where a lot of the locals were having a party. Managed to exchanged my glass of "Bai jiu" (Spirits) for a glass of beer fairly quickly. A lot of people were singing Mosuo songs, the German girl sang a German song. We ate lamb and rice. Yum- but we'd already had dinner. Walked back to our guesthouse around 12 or 1.
This morning the roads were pronounced clear and all the guests left. Quite a few had been waiting for the snow to subside properly. All except me. Oh well.
When did I last post? I can't remember. Well, two days ago the snow had pretty much melted, except in the mountains so we went for a walk to a nearby village and a family invited us in for a snack of tiny crispy fish and fried potatoes. (At Y10 a head). Then we got a rowboat back to Lige. Soon after they served us a substantial evening meal of rice and lots of different dishes. Then at 10 pm someone walked in with a roast pig on a spit, which they had ordered earlier in the day! It was already roasted, so we took photos and then they chopped it up and put all the bits in a bowl above the fireplace. We sat around in a circle, ate pork, drank beer and played rock, paper, scissors: The rules were that if you lost you had to sing a song or skull a beer. Chinese people really like singing so they didn't exercise the second option. I chose the beer several times and then had newfound confidence to sing. I sang some Dutch children songs, and then tried to think of the shortest Australian song I knew, and gave a beautiful rendition of "Give me a home among the gum trees" followed by the first verse of "Waltzing Mathilda".
The next time I lost I explained that since my beer glass was empty I would sing about beer. I started singing "One hundred bottles of beer on the wall". For anyone not familiar, the beer bottles keep falling off the wall so you count down through "99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer on the wall, if one of those bottles should happen to fall there'd be 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer on the wall... etc." Everyone liked it and clapped, but eventually stopped me at 90 bottles. It was quite a funny night.
Yesterday was another lazy day. My sole activity being a short climb up the hill on Lige Isle where we sat and looked at the view. In the evening, we went to the guesthouse next door where a lot of the locals were having a party. Managed to exchanged my glass of "Bai jiu" (Spirits) for a glass of beer fairly quickly. A lot of people were singing Mosuo songs, the German girl sang a German song. We ate lamb and rice. Yum- but we'd already had dinner. Walked back to our guesthouse around 12 or 1.
This morning the roads were pronounced clear and all the guests left. Quite a few had been waiting for the snow to subside properly. All except me. Oh well.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Sun and sparkling water
The sun is out, the snow has melted, I have had a nice shower and washed my hair, and therefore have a smile on my face today. Gonna get some work done this afternoon. Raise myself out of my lethargy, etc. The road should be open again tomorrow. Apparently they were still clearing away the metre deep snow today. The tourists who've been trapped at our guesthouse will be happy.
Oh, one more thing, the guesthouse next door has a washing machine and as we speak they are doing my washing for Y10. Yay, clean clothes.
Oh, one more thing, the guesthouse next door has a washing machine and as we speak they are doing my washing for Y10. Yay, clean clothes.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Defrost
The snow finally started melting yesterday afternoon. On Saturday we had a big snow fight in the courtyard at the guesthouse. As everyone knows "it all ends in tears" and it did when the guy who runs the guesthouse snuck up behind me and planted a handfull of snow in my face. It wouldn't have been a big deal except he got snow in both my eyes, which is actually quite painful and incapacitating. My eyes felt like they were burning. I had some eye drops- like an eye rinse so I put some of that in my eyes, but it only helped a little. For the rest of the evening I felt like I had gravel in my eyes. He came up to my room to laugh at me and say condescendingly "Don't cry". It apparently hadn't occurred to him that he might have really hurt me, I think he thought I was just sulking. I challenge anyone not to cry with snow in their eyes.
Other than that, every time we left the place we were set upon by men, women and children who pelted snow balls at every single passerby. Some of the women were really organised with big tubs filled with snow so that they could throw lots of snowballs quickly. Last night we went out again for roast chicken. Yum. We also barbecued slices of potato and zucchini. But the last few days we have mostly hung out around the fire, reading books and chatting.
Other than that, every time we left the place we were set upon by men, women and children who pelted snow balls at every single passerby. Some of the women were really organised with big tubs filled with snow so that they could throw lots of snowballs quickly. Last night we went out again for roast chicken. Yum. We also barbecued slices of potato and zucchini. But the last few days we have mostly hung out around the fire, reading books and chatting.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
and more snow!!
It is a bit weird having this much snow around here, let alone in March. Quite unheard of, apparently. Every morning the world looks even whiter. This morning the courtyard was covered in snow. Because it is a gravel courtyard, the snow had generally just melted into the cracks, but by this morning it was covered in a thick carpet. This morning when I walked down here I felt like I was in an old movie where everything is in monochrome or sepia tone. The sky is in shades of white and pale grey, the lake looks steely, the mountains are white and the roads, paths and buildings are brown.
Yesterday afternoon I gave up on worrying about the interviews that I'm not getting done (Traipsing around to villages not the pleasantest option at the moment and vehicles are at a minimum) and started working on the interviews I've already done, creating a kind of database of responses, except that they will be handwritten in a notebook. That way I can pinpoint the longer answers and work on translating them later, but in the meantime try to compile basic answers to the shorter questions. I've done over 60 interviews so there's really plenty to work on. That way I can sit in the restaurant at the guesthouse near the fire with a hot water bottle on my lap and work.
A German girl turned up with a couple of Chinese tourists yesterday afternoon as well. We had a good chat. They had planned to go home today and though I've heard that a few buses are still going through, most people discourage going unless absolutely necessary. The roads are already steep and narrow, being covered in snow and ice means that accidents are very likely. Vehicles around here are not generally equipped with disc brakes, power steering or snow chains- though some people have four wheel drives. So it seems that a number of people are waiting it out here until, the snow disappears. The locals seem to be predicting every day that tomorrow will be warmer, with the result that every day is colder.
I gave up listening to the predictions this morning and went next door for a much needed shower. Tied back my wet hair and hurried back to the guesthouse to dry it over the fire. Luckily the water was piping hot and there was no wind this morning so it was fine. Nevertheless, the washing is piling up and clothing is starting to run out (except for a skirt and some short sleeved tops which are resolutely ignored as I pull out all the thermals I thought I wouldn't need anymore.
This morning the other guests busied themselves building another snowman- or rather snow lady, having decided that the first snowman needed a girlfriend. I stayed inside sipping a coffee and drying my hair.
Yesterday afternoon I gave up on worrying about the interviews that I'm not getting done (Traipsing around to villages not the pleasantest option at the moment and vehicles are at a minimum) and started working on the interviews I've already done, creating a kind of database of responses, except that they will be handwritten in a notebook. That way I can pinpoint the longer answers and work on translating them later, but in the meantime try to compile basic answers to the shorter questions. I've done over 60 interviews so there's really plenty to work on. That way I can sit in the restaurant at the guesthouse near the fire with a hot water bottle on my lap and work.
A German girl turned up with a couple of Chinese tourists yesterday afternoon as well. We had a good chat. They had planned to go home today and though I've heard that a few buses are still going through, most people discourage going unless absolutely necessary. The roads are already steep and narrow, being covered in snow and ice means that accidents are very likely. Vehicles around here are not generally equipped with disc brakes, power steering or snow chains- though some people have four wheel drives. So it seems that a number of people are waiting it out here until, the snow disappears. The locals seem to be predicting every day that tomorrow will be warmer, with the result that every day is colder.
I gave up listening to the predictions this morning and went next door for a much needed shower. Tied back my wet hair and hurried back to the guesthouse to dry it over the fire. Luckily the water was piping hot and there was no wind this morning so it was fine. Nevertheless, the washing is piling up and clothing is starting to run out (except for a skirt and some short sleeved tops which are resolutely ignored as I pull out all the thermals I thought I wouldn't need anymore.
This morning the other guests busied themselves building another snowman- or rather snow lady, having decided that the first snowman needed a girlfriend. I stayed inside sipping a coffee and drying my hair.
Friday, March 04, 2005
More snow and more culinary experiences
It snowed all day yesterday. And the thing that Scott hoped for while he was here has finally happened. The lake is snowbound so no traffic is coming in and out- at least for a couple of days. (Scott was hoping it would provide him with an opportunity to postpone his flight home and spend a little longer with me). This morning when I left the guesthouse to come down here and use the net, the other guests were making a snowman. Then kids threw snowballs at me (and other unfortunate pedestrians) as I was coming here.
Chatted to Scott on the phone last night and he was trying to tempt me into coming home again by talking about the meals he cooked this week- most unfair, he worked out very early on in our relationship that the key to this woman's heart was through her stomach. Anyway, I hung up the phone at about 10pm thinking about having a roast, when the other guests and our host stood up and said that they were going into the village to get a roast. Well, the local equivalent anyway- usually more like a barbecue of little fish, sliced potatoes and other assorted goodies cooked on a rack over an open flame. I didn't need much persuading to go along. When we got there though, it seemed that most of their selection was frozen (my host prefers freshly slaughtered meat). But they suggested that they could provide a fresh chicken, which solved the problem. The restaurant is basically a very plain room, concrete floor and little stools and these barbecue table things (a trap of hot coals is inserted into the table which has a rack set into it).
A minute later I heard some squawking from the backyard and in walked the chef carrying a mildly complaining chicken. My host took a look at it, held it up to check the wait, and gave it his approval. Then, in less time than it normally takes me to defrost a chicken breast in the microwave, the chef walked over to one side of the room, slit the chicken's throat and drained the blood into a bowl. Then he tossed it into a tub which he filled with boiling water. Took the lot outside where he plucked it while the lady mopped the blood off the floor. Freshly plucked, he brought it back in, ran it through the flame to burn off the last bits of feather stubble, and spread it out, impaling it on a three pronged metal pole, the centre pole going through its bum, up its neck and out it's beak, while the side prongs went through the legs and feet. Meanwhile, a roaring fire was prepared in a metal tray and a spit was set up overhead. The luckless chicken was basted with oil and garlic and the man started turning it. My host had apparently been eyeing off the comb on the chicken's head, because when it appeared to be cooked just right, he plucked it off with his fingers and popped it in his mouth.
The lady brought in some little fish then, still twisting and writhing, and put them onto one of the little barbecues, where they stopped moving fairly quickly. We watched for half an hour or so as the chicken rotated and the fish grilled, then sat at the table and pulled the little fish apart with our chopsticks to get the bones out and dipped them in spices and ate them. The chicken was pronounced ready, chopped into bits, and chucked onto the barbecue as well, which we nibbled at. I must admit, I kept well away from the feet and head, but the chicken breast was very nicely done. My host took the leftovers home in a doggy back. We got back at about 12.20am.
Chatted to Scott on the phone last night and he was trying to tempt me into coming home again by talking about the meals he cooked this week- most unfair, he worked out very early on in our relationship that the key to this woman's heart was through her stomach. Anyway, I hung up the phone at about 10pm thinking about having a roast, when the other guests and our host stood up and said that they were going into the village to get a roast. Well, the local equivalent anyway- usually more like a barbecue of little fish, sliced potatoes and other assorted goodies cooked on a rack over an open flame. I didn't need much persuading to go along. When we got there though, it seemed that most of their selection was frozen (my host prefers freshly slaughtered meat). But they suggested that they could provide a fresh chicken, which solved the problem. The restaurant is basically a very plain room, concrete floor and little stools and these barbecue table things (a trap of hot coals is inserted into the table which has a rack set into it).
A minute later I heard some squawking from the backyard and in walked the chef carrying a mildly complaining chicken. My host took a look at it, held it up to check the wait, and gave it his approval. Then, in less time than it normally takes me to defrost a chicken breast in the microwave, the chef walked over to one side of the room, slit the chicken's throat and drained the blood into a bowl. Then he tossed it into a tub which he filled with boiling water. Took the lot outside where he plucked it while the lady mopped the blood off the floor. Freshly plucked, he brought it back in, ran it through the flame to burn off the last bits of feather stubble, and spread it out, impaling it on a three pronged metal pole, the centre pole going through its bum, up its neck and out it's beak, while the side prongs went through the legs and feet. Meanwhile, a roaring fire was prepared in a metal tray and a spit was set up overhead. The luckless chicken was basted with oil and garlic and the man started turning it. My host had apparently been eyeing off the comb on the chicken's head, because when it appeared to be cooked just right, he plucked it off with his fingers and popped it in his mouth.
The lady brought in some little fish then, still twisting and writhing, and put them onto one of the little barbecues, where they stopped moving fairly quickly. We watched for half an hour or so as the chicken rotated and the fish grilled, then sat at the table and pulled the little fish apart with our chopsticks to get the bones out and dipped them in spices and ate them. The chicken was pronounced ready, chopped into bits, and chucked onto the barbecue as well, which we nibbled at. I must admit, I kept well away from the feet and head, but the chicken breast was very nicely done. My host took the leftovers home in a doggy back. We got back at about 12.20am.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
It's spring, aint it?
Two days ago, when I arrived in Lige, the sun was shining, it was really warm and I sat around in the courtyard getting a bit of a tan on my face and contemplating shaving my armpits so I can wear a short sleeved top.
Yesterday, was cool and overcast. Barely saw the sun. Spent most of the day hovering over the fire, but saw no need for thermals or extra sleeping bag.
This morning I woke to white roofs and swirling snow. It is still snowing heavily and the whole lake sky and ground is coloured white to gray. (Gray being the lake). There is a thick layer of snow on the roofs of all the cars. I'm back in full thermals, scarf, jacket and gloves- and feeling cold. It's very pretty but I'm sure you all know by now I'm not really a cold weather person.
Yesterday afternoon two men wandered into the cafe at our guesthouse for a cuppa. One philipino and one dutch. The Dutch guy has been living in Lijiang for the last year with his Naxi (local Lijiang minority group) wife. After tea they took me for a drive out to a village where he had visited previously. He thought there would be Mosuo dancing there, but there wasn't. He was telling me all about how he used to be a bit wild, but now he'd married and become a christian. In the car he had all this slightly country western gospel music playing (like the American pentecostal stuff) which seemed a little odd to me out here in South West China. He hasn't been working here yet, but he talks about being a tour guide or opening a pizza restaurant or something in future when his Chinese improves. He showed me his Chinese drivers licence which he was very proud of. (International driver's licences are not valid in China).
Oddly enough, in the section supposed to list nationality, his nationality is given as Chinese even though he is only on a tourist visa. Apparently there were no other options available in the computer. He was not allowed to purchase registration plates for his car on a tourist visa (though he was able to purchase a car and a house). They said he would need to go back to Holland and then come back on a different visa to change the visa type. He told the police that he probably wouldn't go back to Holland for several months so the police suggested he drive around without any rego until then. That's China for you.
Yesterday, was cool and overcast. Barely saw the sun. Spent most of the day hovering over the fire, but saw no need for thermals or extra sleeping bag.
This morning I woke to white roofs and swirling snow. It is still snowing heavily and the whole lake sky and ground is coloured white to gray. (Gray being the lake). There is a thick layer of snow on the roofs of all the cars. I'm back in full thermals, scarf, jacket and gloves- and feeling cold. It's very pretty but I'm sure you all know by now I'm not really a cold weather person.
Yesterday afternoon two men wandered into the cafe at our guesthouse for a cuppa. One philipino and one dutch. The Dutch guy has been living in Lijiang for the last year with his Naxi (local Lijiang minority group) wife. After tea they took me for a drive out to a village where he had visited previously. He thought there would be Mosuo dancing there, but there wasn't. He was telling me all about how he used to be a bit wild, but now he'd married and become a christian. In the car he had all this slightly country western gospel music playing (like the American pentecostal stuff) which seemed a little odd to me out here in South West China. He hasn't been working here yet, but he talks about being a tour guide or opening a pizza restaurant or something in future when his Chinese improves. He showed me his Chinese drivers licence which he was very proud of. (International driver's licences are not valid in China).
Oddly enough, in the section supposed to list nationality, his nationality is given as Chinese even though he is only on a tourist visa. Apparently there were no other options available in the computer. He was not allowed to purchase registration plates for his car on a tourist visa (though he was able to purchase a car and a house). They said he would need to go back to Holland and then come back on a different visa to change the visa type. He told the police that he probably wouldn't go back to Holland for several months so the police suggested he drive around without any rego until then. That's China for you.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Back home (in Lige)
Well, I'm back here in Lige- one of my homes! Going to go do some interviews today. Not much else going on actually. Good to catch up with some people again. And the food at this guesthouse is great. Last night we all had a big feast with egg, tomato, potato, broccoli, red capsicum, pork, sausage and little tiny fish that you can eat whole. And rice of course. All mixed into little stirfried dishes. That reminds me, the other day I saw a cafe with a sign in English on it advertising "Deep fired syrup". Mmmm. Oh, and I was watching the Miss Asia beauty pageant (it was funny) and they had subtitles for some of it in English (but only when it was said in English) and they introduced a gentleman as "a famous celibate gentleman" (celebrity), and one of the girls as a "photo genius" (photogenic). Well, I had a giggle anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)