Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

Day 2 of our vacation started off a lot better than Day 1 (which we’ll never mention again). The hotel’s breakfast buffet was adequate. As usual, though, regardless of whether you’re the first one to arrive at the 6:30 start time, the food is, at best, luke warm. Fortunately, FII and I are not picky under these circumstances and will eat just about anything at any temperature.

We had some fried potatoes, cabbage with some kind of meat, yams, fried rice, and pancakes with sweet dates on top.

Note that the fried rice does not have any soy sauce. If you order fried rice in almost any establishment in America, you will get rice that has been stir-fried with a few vegetables, some chopped meat or seafood, eggs, and soy sauce. But if you order fried rice in most parts of China, it almost always comes without soy sauce. Here it is: Though soy sauce is indeed used in cooking throughout China, it is the most prominent in south eastern China, and it is from that part of China that most of the early Chinese immigrants to America originated. That is why for decades, almost all the Chinese restaurants in the America focused on Cantonese cuisine, which is less spicy and more delicate than the other, spicy parts of China.

We were taken to the grounds of a nearby temple and walked around a lot.

The small sign at the lower right of this entrance, written in typical Chinese English grammar, shows the strict policy of tourist areas I’ve visited around China.

Though it was a little chilly, we enjoyed the leisurely walk around the charming grounds and posing for pictures.

One thing about walking around China (an activity that deserves its own post), whether on the streets or on a temple’s ground: there are double trash-can units everywhere.

I don’t know what happened to the “Recycle” part of this duo…

…but experience indicates it’s not really necessary, as most Chinese do not distinguish between “Recycle” and “Nonrercycle” cans in the process of discarding trash. I think the Chinese government must have had (and perhaps still has) an inspiration to improve the environment, but now they need to follow through with a public education program.

This temple being on a small (man-made?) lake means there are quaint bridges hither and yon…

…and the usual hazards.

We came upon an interesting tree with bark I’ve never seen. Any biology teachers out there?

We also came upon a group of locals during their morning tai chi exercises. I’ve seen this many times around China. Note that these people don’t need a fancy Gold’s gym to get together and exercise, even in cold weather.

All tourist locations in China, just as in America, have the requisite trinket shops.

Occasionally, you run across a moderately interesting item, such as this hat purportedly made from fox fur.

These temple grounds, like every other one I’ve visited, had defined paths, all “paved” in one way or another (usually with rectangular-cut stones), and people almost always stay off the grass.

When you walk around China’s university campuses, temples and other tourist sites, and the cities in general, you don’t see impromptu paths carved through the grass by people seeking slight short cuts. I asked a couple colleagues about this, and they said that Chinese people have a high regard for grass because of its relative rarity in cities.

We left the temple grounds and went to a nearby area of Li Jiang that I think was the old Old Town before they built the new Old Town we visited on Day 1. First we stopped off at a small museum dedicated to Naxi culture where we saw lots of pictographs,…

…some with a Rosetta Stone approach.

There was an old guy who is an expert on them.

He translated this pictograph, explaining that it says something like “health and good luck to the people of this house.”

There were ancient Naxi costumes on weird wire mannequins…

…intricate tree-root carvings…

…and small 3-D displays. Note the dust on the fake fruit.

Throughout China you see ceramic, metal, and whatever toads with a coins in their mouths. These are meant to bring good luck and fortune to your home. This jin chan (golden toad) usually has only one hind leg and is sitting on a pile of cash. According to that great encyclopedia in the sky, Feng Shui principles dictate that the toad should never be placed facing the outside door, nor should it be placed in the bathroom, bedroom, dining room, or kitchen. Running out of options, I think. FII bought me a brass one as a present…

…and this Naxi museum had a colorful ceramic one on display.

We left the museum and strolled through this small community,…

…encountering canals with slow moving water,…

…small aqueducts clogged with algae,…

…and interesting people ready to play duets…

…or solos.

This guy gave me a case of pipe envy.

Throughout China you always see people with small brooms and dustpans, sweeping up trash, even in this remote area.

I’ve found most of the China that I’ve visited fairly free of litter on the sidewalks and gutters. I don’t think the Chinese are any better or worse at littering than Americans, but my observations lead me to believe that they have a significant workforce dedicated to removing litter wherever they find it.

There were small shops selling clothes,…

…uncooked food,…

…cooked food,…

…unusual art work,…

…and brass feet. (Note the toad to the left.)

One of my favorite refrains that I tell my colleagues here is that China does two things better than any other country in the world: tea and mushrooms. Here, as in most of the places we visited in Yunnan, there are stores with enormous selections of mushrooms. Some of them are quite rare and thus expensive.

We were wandering down one of the streets, where I bought yet another mah jong set, this one made from yak bone, when our guide asked if we’d like to visit an embroidery museum. FII and I were a little ambivalent but in the end we said OK, and it turned out to be one of the trip’s highlights.

This part of China was/is part of the famous “silk road”…

…and I think we both expected to see some nice scarves, etc. What we found instead was a small school dedicated to teaching women – the only man we saw was the principal…

… – how to use fine silk thread to produce works of art.

This was the largest piece in the gallery, about 4 feet wide, and it costs about $4K. It was absolutely beautiful and, despite the fact that it was done completely with silk thread, it looked like an actual painting.

Most of them were traditional in style, but occasionally you came across a more exotic one.

I think my favorite was of these two farm children eating out of the same bowl. It also was $2-3K. Sorry for the bad photo, but I had to use my flash.

One of the highlights of this visit was our hostess, a charming young lady with impeccable English and a warm sense of humor.

The principal showed us how he himself makes wood cuttings and then uses them to make prints.

These were beautiful, and I bought one depicting Tiger Leaping Gorge, where FII and I would be going in a couple days. Here it is taped to my wall.

Before we left I was talked into buying one of the small embroideries for half the asking price. Here it is hanging on my wall,…

…and here’s a close-up.

We left the embroidery school, had a quick lunch, and headed for a small village, Baisha, at the base of the mountains.

This part of China was once under the ocean, and the walls of the buildings are made with a combination of rocks and coral.

Despite the one-child policy, children are present in great numbers everywhere in China.

The biggest tourist attraction of Baisha seems to be the horse ride up the side of the mountain.

This woman, whose house was on the other side of the wall to the left, is picking up horse droppings and depositing them on her side of the wall (there was indeed a pile) to be used for fertilizer in her garden.

One of the interesting things FII and I saw throughout this part of China were trucks like this one, with a cheap, low-powered lawnmower-type engine out front.

Despite the low horsepower of the engine, the vehicle is geared so low that it can haul a full load of bricks up a steep hill – quite slowly, I should add.

We visited briefly the former residence of Joseph Rock, an American botanist who spent many years in this area studying the native plants.

Our guide took us back to Li Jiang’s new Old Town where we visited another, more opulent temple…

…with nicer furnishings…

…and works of art.

We caught one girl donning her costume,…

…and a couple others taking a lunch break.

As we walked around the gardens, we stepped carefully.

We headed back toward the hotel, passing the many food vendors.

I think if we dug deep enough into this tea or soup or stew or whatever we would indeed find the kitchen sink.

That evening FII and I attended a concert of traditional Naxi music. Almost all of the performers in this orchestra were over 70; some were in their 80’s; one was blind.

The concert was about 90 minutes. Listening to ancient Chinese music on ancient Chinese instruments played by ancient Chinese men (and one female vocalist) is less of an emotionally moving experience than it is a lesson in cultural history. Regardless, having been a performer myself, I always feel it’s important to be courteous (i.e., silent) when someone is performing. I don’t know whether talking is rampant in other Chinese concerts, but there were several conversations going on while the music was playing.

One father was explaining how to use his complicated camera to his young daughter, and no amount of glaring on my part could get him to stop. Finally, I got the attention of his wife and indicated that she should tell her husband to shut up.

More irritating, however, sitting 2 rows behind the first violator, were 3 or 4 well-dressed men in their late 30’s or early 40’s. They were carrying on a conversation at only slightly reduced volume, and several people around them looked annoyed but said nothing. Finally, in the middle of a piece, I got up out of my seat, walked back 2 rows, leaned over and looked them all straight in the eye, and loudly said “Shush.”

I briefly wondered whether they would be waiting for me outside after the concert, but we returned to our hotel unblemished. If I live through my remaining 6 months in China, I’ll show you the video of that concert.

That was Day 2.

As a parting gesture to those businessmen or government officials, let me leave you with one last sign from our hotel’s restroom.

保罗