The Great Chinese Migration

When you plan an extended trip that takes in several countries or parts of the world it's not possible to be in every place at just the right time of year.  (In SE Asia I missed the "cool" dry season and endured the heat of the "hot" dry season.  This worked out well because there were fewer hordes of tourists.)  However, there are some seasons or events that, with a little planning should be avoided.  One of these is the first week in May, a Chinese national holiday created for the sole purpose to encourage travel and spending.  During this time it's difficult to obtain train, plane, or bus tickets, hotel prices skyrocket and you can barely see the sights through the sea of Chinese.  I made it to Lijiang, China when the wave hit on May 1st and you do feel like you have to breast-stroke through a massive wave of humanity.  Interestingly, Lijiang is like a built-up Wild West town.  The people are dressed up in traditional garb, but under the women's long skirts you can often see camo pants peaking out.  The old city is beautiful however with the Naxi architecture making wonderful criss-crossing lines on the old, jumbled roofs.  Despite the hordes of Chinese tourists it is possible to escape the madness with a little effort.  It turns out that if the Chinese are presented with two routes for reaching a destination they will almost always take the easy route.  This explains the excellent road infrastructure and cables cars to the top of every worthwhile peak.  So with a road running through the Tiger Leaping Gorge, a few days walk on the high road was all it took to escape.  The best thing about the country-wide holiday is that it's easy to meet ex-pats working in China and get the scoop.  I hiked the gorge with a Frenchman who works for Mavic and a wonderful German couple who are about to move to Alabama, of all places!  During this hike I contracted my first real stomach bug, which is quite a "fun" experience, let me tell you.  (I have no clue what I ate or drank to get it.)  Truthfully, it was just great to get some exercise.  So much time travelling is spent sitting for hours or days on trains, buses, planes, rickshaws, and other interesting modes of transport.  

From the Tiger Leaping Gorge I moved to Zhongdian, also called Shangri-La City to attract tourists.  While I was waiting for my overland trip to Tibet to start I made a journey to Beishuitai, a small Naxi farming community known for their limestone terraces.  The limestone terraces weren't that interesting, but the Naxi family I stayed with certainly was.  They were unbelievably friendly and invited me to join them for a day of chopping hay in their field.  They didn't speak a single word of English, not even Hello, so I couldn't gather how they were all related, but I spent the day with two "grandmas" who looked to be 70 and one mother, 40ish.  I could be way off with the ages because their skin was quite weathered from years of hard work in the sun.  I guess they assumed I would sit and watch while they performed back-braking, hard labor to clear a football-field sized area of hay.  At 10,500' the hay glistened under the glaring sun, swaying back and forth with the occasional breeze.  They gave me an umbrella, a la the Chinese, and I felt ridiculous, like some bourgeoisie keeping an eye on my peasants.  I slowly worked my way into being useful; after they made a bundle of hay, I stacked them in preparation for transport.  I was temporarily fired from this role until I learned to hold the bundle in an outstretched hand to avoid getting my clothes prickled with needles.  In the afternoon, when the mother was busy transporting bundles with the horse, I was promoted and I used the sickle to chop hay.  What hard work!!  I slowly stripped off my layers and after only an hour I was sweating and my back hurt.  Meanwhile the three women labored all day with long pants and shirts and animal skins on their back without sweating a drip.  Spending the day in the field was really an experience and you can't help but appreciate where you come from.  The women appeared happy, often smiling.  Certainly they are not financially wealthy and I would not want to trade positions with them but I didn't pity them.  Curiously, men are absent from the hard work.  The man of this house seems to be in charge of sweeping and hanging the hay bundles on a wood fence.  

At night the mother took me to a town meeting, at least that's what it had to be, though I didn't understand a word.  With the sun gone there was a chill in the air and I'm freezing now with all my layers on.  Yet the women seem comfortable in their daytime garb.  The moon is three quarters full, partially shrouded in clouds and in a courtyard tucked away I can only make out the outline of backwards hats, knifes protruding from belts, and puffs of cigarette smoke  disappearing in the sky.  In the cover of darkness who knows what this meeting could be about.  Amidst the animated jeers, my mind drifts to reflect on the day.  

For photos of Yunnan Province, click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/39463330@N00/sets/72157594170414906/

For photos of working with the women, click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/39463330@N00/sets/72157594170426780/