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.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
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.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Joseph Rock
Yesterday afternoon I caught up with the other linguist here who is working on a grammar of Mosuo. It was really good to chat and we are going to meet up again to compare notes on Mosuo.
This morning I did a bit of washing and was just heading out of the motel to get breakfast when an elderly man called me over and wanted to chat. It turns out he is Mosuo, grew up in this house in Luoshui (which is now also the hotel I am staying in, but escaped to Lhasa and then to India, lived in the Netherlands for a year and finally to England before the cultural revolution. He lived in England for 25 years, primarily working helping new refugees who had just entered the country. He came back here in the 80's and has been living here since. He told me he hadn't spoken English in about 5 years, but he chatted to me fluently in English for an hour or so. He said he doesn't speak very much Chinese though he has studied Hindi. Now he has fairly severe diabetes and lives in Luoshui.
You may have heard me speak of Joseph Rock before. A botanist who traveled and lived around this area and Lijiang in the 1930's and 40's. There have always been rumours that he fathered several children in the area too. The gentleman I met this morning remembers him well, his father worked for him a bit. He remembers that food would be parachuted in for him and he always ate from cans, never eating local food or water. From what I could gather, this man's father had died when he was quite young and Joseph Rock became a close friend of his mother. He was only six when this was going on, and he will never be sure what went on, but his mother gave birth to his brother, whom many people believed was the son of Rock. Apparently some of his features were a little unusual and some people called him "meiguo" or "America". His brother has since died but he says his mother was very beautiful so it is quite possible. But at the time he was too young to be really aware and he never asked.
He was a bit tired after telling me that, sitting on an armchair with a drip in his arm, and said he wasn't feeling that well today, but that he'd love to talk again. I think I might come back to Luoshui and speak to him and some of his family again before I go back to Lijiang for a few days.
I must admit, I was quite blown away though. I have met very few Mosuo people who speak any English at all, let alone fluently. And he has such an amazing story.
Reply to comment from Alex: From what Scott has been telling me, you either bring him into work when there is nothing to be done or make him work double shifts when there are several functions on, with an early start the next morning. I can't be distracting him that much, he didn't call me the other morning because he'd been kept back at work till after midday. I think you are distracting him from me!
This morning I did a bit of washing and was just heading out of the motel to get breakfast when an elderly man called me over and wanted to chat. It turns out he is Mosuo, grew up in this house in Luoshui (which is now also the hotel I am staying in, but escaped to Lhasa and then to India, lived in the Netherlands for a year and finally to England before the cultural revolution. He lived in England for 25 years, primarily working helping new refugees who had just entered the country. He came back here in the 80's and has been living here since. He told me he hadn't spoken English in about 5 years, but he chatted to me fluently in English for an hour or so. He said he doesn't speak very much Chinese though he has studied Hindi. Now he has fairly severe diabetes and lives in Luoshui.
You may have heard me speak of Joseph Rock before. A botanist who traveled and lived around this area and Lijiang in the 1930's and 40's. There have always been rumours that he fathered several children in the area too. The gentleman I met this morning remembers him well, his father worked for him a bit. He remembers that food would be parachuted in for him and he always ate from cans, never eating local food or water. From what I could gather, this man's father had died when he was quite young and Joseph Rock became a close friend of his mother. He was only six when this was going on, and he will never be sure what went on, but his mother gave birth to his brother, whom many people believed was the son of Rock. Apparently some of his features were a little unusual and some people called him "meiguo" or "America". His brother has since died but he says his mother was very beautiful so it is quite possible. But at the time he was too young to be really aware and he never asked.
He was a bit tired after telling me that, sitting on an armchair with a drip in his arm, and said he wasn't feeling that well today, but that he'd love to talk again. I think I might come back to Luoshui and speak to him and some of his family again before I go back to Lijiang for a few days.
I must admit, I was quite blown away though. I have met very few Mosuo people who speak any English at all, let alone fluently. And he has such an amazing story.
Reply to comment from Alex: From what Scott has been telling me, you either bring him into work when there is nothing to be done or make him work double shifts when there are several functions on, with an early start the next morning. I can't be distracting him that much, he didn't call me the other morning because he'd been kept back at work till after midday. I think you are distracting him from me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)