Bird's Nest Beverage - 25% bird's nest

Monday, 05 March 2007

I must apologise for the lack of posts. I'm currently in Goa and have been rushed off my feet sunbathing, swimming in the sea and eating delicious fresh BBQ'ed fish. I promise some more posts soon. Next one is on my hike through Tiger Leaping Gorge.

Thursday, 01 March 2007

Location: Lijiang, China

LIJIANG - VENICE OF THE EAST
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After so many months enjoying the constant warmth of Southeast
Asia, i now had to acclimatise to the cold of South China in Winter. People in this region don't seem overly bothered by the temperature. None of the guesthouses i stayed in had heating, nor did any of the shops, and a fair few cafes and restaurants. When they did have heating some wise soul left a door or window open which let all the heat escape. I should not have been surprised therefore that the bus to Lijiang on a freezing cold morning was as chilly inside as it was out. The journey was made worse by the cramped seats; buses in much of China are not designed with 6ft 2 men in mind. So i spent the next few hours cold, unable to stare out of the window - the fabric lining vehicle interiors can get really boring after a while - and then finally coughing because everyone began to light up cigarettes and ignore the 'No Smoking' signs. This mattered not when i reached my destination.

Lijiang consists of a grey, bland, funtional new town and a wonderful old town dating back more than eight hundred years, which was declared a World Heritage site in 1999.

Full of charcter and stretching over an uneven landscape of small hills, the old town is a dense network of cobbled, cramped alleys, rickety wooden buildings, decorative bridges and bustling squares. Crisscrossing the quaint streets is a complex yet orderly web of gurgling canals and streams overhung with willows and filled with goldfish; an ancient water supply that still functions to this day and earned Lijiang the nickname the 'Venice of the East'.

Lijiang, like Dali, is also a town of cultural importance, due to the ten ethnic minorities which call it home. Chief among these are the Naxi, the traditional residents of Lijiang who have based themselves in the old town for nearly one and a half millenia. The Naxi have shaped the old town architecturally and culturally.

Walking around town much of the local population were in some form of traditional dress; usually involving a blue blouse and black apron, though others displayed more colourful outfits with fur hats and collars. Stalls sold dried yak meat and other Naxi delicacies such as fried cheese or stacks of baba flatbread, all of which were delicious and cheap. The Naxi written language was also evident on walls around town. It was developed over one thousand years ago, uses pictographs and is the only hieroglyphic language still in use. Interestingly, nouns enlarge their meaning when the word for female is added. For example, 'stone' plus 'female' conveys the image of a boulder. Add 'male' and it suggests a pebble. Language and culture are intimately linked; the reason for this linguistic rule is that the Naxi were, until recently, a matrilineal society. The Naxi thus highlighted one of the great things about travel - the ready availability of societies and social norms which so easily problematise culturally determined ideas and values.

(As a side note - a few hours away in a place called Lugu Lu, live the Mosu, the last practising matriarchal society in the world. Kinship, clan names, social and political positions are all passed through the female line. More interestingly the women never marry nor cohabit. Instead they take as many lovers as they like. Coming of age at 13 they move out of the communal living area and are given their own bedroom. Lovers visit at night and leave to their mothers in the morning, a practice known as a 'walking marriage'. I know quite a few women who are probably kicking themselves right now - i told you not to get married.)

Though a town of historic and cultural importance, development, though faithful architecturally, has undermined some of the towns authenticity. The centre of the old town could justifiably be part of the China Epcot exhibition. Lijiang is flooded with tourists (me included!) and many of the old houses have been turned into shops selling everything needed to get the 'ethnic chic' look which is increasingly popular in China. However, the town is spotlessly clean, wealthy and well presented. In the evenings i spent much of my time walking the streets and enjoying the street performances of Naxi song and dance. The main square in particular was full of people enjoying large bonfires and joining with Naxi men and women who danced around them in concentric circles.

Additional 'old city' sections have been built (and i understand more are planned) to cater to the growing tourist numbers. Hopefully this will stop the encroachment of entrepeneurs who wish to turn atuthentic houses and small restaurants into tourist shops and bars.

Most of my days were spent wandering the old town, enjoying the wonderfully warm and cosy cafes, and planning my trip to Tiger Leaping Gorge - including getting kitted out with a small backpack, trekking boots and suitable clothes. However i did spend one day sightseeing. The location of Lijiang is stunning, at the bottom of a valley floor surrounded by rolling mountains. On the northern edge of town lies Black Dragon Pool, a secluded park with a large jade coloured lake of crystal clear water, white marble bridge, peaceful pavillions and the Ming Dynasty Five-Phoenix Temple. I spent a happy afternoon under the shade of the willow trees, admiring the spectacular peak of Jade Dragon Snow mountain reflected in the lake, writing my journal and reading a book. Afterwards I wanted to walk up Elephant Hill, which is just a short trek off to one side of the lake, but two tourists were mugged a few years back and i was preveted from venturing on the path alone. Groups of four, or no entry. "Nanny state!" i wanted to cry, but it probably would have done little good. It was probably best. Lijiang lies approximately 3000 metres above sea level and i was unused to the thin air. Even walking up a slightly inclining alley to my guesthouse (called MCA) made me out of breath.

Wednesday, 28 February 2007

Location: Dali, China

DALI - MAO IN THE MARKET
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The China Lonely Planet features a fantastic picture of three pagodas reflected in a pool and surrounded on all sides by trees and mountains. Just a few kilometres outside of Dali, i decided to hire a bike to take a visit.

The pagodas are some of the oldest standing structures in south-west China, built in the ninth century and climbing to a height of 70 metres. Recently Chongsheng temple, which once stood on the site, has been rebuilt. But when i reached the gates i was asked for 120 yuan - almost fifteen dollars. Naively i thought they must have made a mistake and meant twelve yuan, but when i offered this amount the man behind the desk just shook his head (almost apologetically) and pointed to a hundred yuan note. The Lonely Planet, written only a year or so ago listed the entry price as ten yuan! If anything demonstrated to me how rapidly China is changing it was this. Granted Dali is touristy, but even a similar site in Britain would not cost fifteen dollars. I was not about to spend three quarters of my daily budget on one sight. Frustrated, i checked on the internet and discovered the picture in the LP was taken from the nearby Pagoda Mirror Pond - a snip at just two yuan to enter. Clearly the greedy authorities had cottoned onto this loophole because i arrived at the gate to discover they now charged 121 yuan - more than it costs to enter the site itself. I thought about sneaking under the counter or climbing over the wall but in the end i just gave up and stared at it from a distance.

Disappointed i decided to explore the surrounding villages that lie around the lake. I spent the afternoon cycling along narrow paths which criss-cross the broad green fields around Dali and grow all kinds of fruit and veg. Men and women in grubby clothes tilled the earth, washed the produce in the streams, planted seeds or worked the complex irrigation channels that brought water down from the mountians. In contrast to these wide open expanses, the villages were cramped and labyrinthine. While Dali evokes pre-modern China, these villages are premodern China. The narrow streets were largely deserted. Everyone was in the field or carrying produce back and forth. Those that weren't working could be found in the small, shady village squares populated mainly by old men in blue Chairman Mao suits. As i cycled past in my skinny jeans and chequered black and white shoes (everyone stares at them in China) all heads would turn in my direction and follow me until i was out of sight, as if i was the most interesting thing to happen in the village since the Cultural Revolution. If that wasn't enough excitement for one day, the strange boy with the spike protruding from his bottom lip and oddly tight western clothing would return, cycling past numerous times due to turning down a dead end or going round the maze-like villages in circles. And so it went on until eventually and with no warning, the houses stopped and i found myself in the fields again. This happened in every village. By the time i reached my guesthouse i was exhausted and famished. Back in town i stopped at a dingy room serving lots of Chinese people noodles. I always try and follow the locals when it comes to food - they know best. So i found myself a seat and waited to be served. In southeast asia, even if the owners of the restaurant or stall do not speak english they seem genuinely pleased to see you. In China, not so much. I don't think a westerner had ever eaten in this particular place before because the woman looked thoroughly perplexed when i sat down, a look mirrored on my face when the noodles appeared, cold and with strips of a soft white substance piled on top. Looking back it may have been local cheese. It was delicious whatever it was.

Another day in Dali was spent at Zhong He temple which is perched high on the mountainside overlooking the town. I didn't fancy the one hour walk, my legs were still knackered after the long bike ride, so i took the chair lift which slowly ascended over the dense pine-forest covered hills. The views were stunning. I sat on a small terrace drinking green tea and admiring the deep blue of Lake Erhai Hu (China's seventh largest) and the surrounding patchwork of green fields and white villages.

The temple was small and not overly impressive, but it was my first experience of a temple dedicated to Tao, a complex and ambigious mix of religious and philosophical thought. The building, spread over three layers, was decorated with Yin and Yang symbols, dragons and colourful carved woodwork. Monks dressed in black robes tended to the shrines. One of them beckoned me to the main room, gave me some incense sticks and made me stand in front of a red-faced statue. He struck a gong three times as i bowed. Finally my name and birthdate was entered in a log book and i offered a donation. All for good luck apparently.

My final day of sightseeing was spent at the Shaping Market, a weekly meeting of Bai locals from the surrounding villages. Most people do a tour from Dali but i didn't want to be restricted by time, so i took a local bus. All the hustle and bustle takes place on a low hill at the base of the mountain range. Stalls were placed around the hill and some old stone ruins. The market was a wonderfully colourful spectacle; an authentic insight into Bai society and fashion. While the men wore indistinct shirts and trousers, the women were dressed in their best livery, a variety of ethno-cultural clothes in lurid colours, dense patterns and elaborate headgear. You can never have to many pairs of green sequined trousers i always say.

Most of the people were here to buy food for the week; huge bags of dried noodles, fresh vegetables and fruit, live chickens, mounds of dried red chillis and piles of spices which filled the air with pungent smells. But it was also possible to buy clothes, blankets, books, cooking utensils and colourful batiques that the Bai are renowned for. For those with tooth-ache a dentist had conventiently set up a chair and mirror in the middle of all the chaos. I spotted an english copy of Mao's little red book. I snapped it up, along with an original chinese version - it's the ultimate tourist item from China.