We
did manage to get out and about earlier today. I have still not been
able to shake off the cold I have had for a couple of weeks and
finally decided I needed something proactive to get rid of it. We
found a local pharmacy around the corner from the hotel and were in
the middle of looking up how to say “do you have something for a bad
chesty cough please” when my system saved the day and I let out a
racking cough. They nodding knowingly and pulled out a bottle of Pei
Pa Koa, a traditional Chinese herbal cough syrup.
There was information in English on the side of the box together
with a long list of ingredients most of which mean absolutely
nothing to me but it did not seem to include any endangered species
which I though was a plus sign. Ignoring Lonely Planet’s warning
that buying medicines over the counter is not recommended I paid by
Yuan but waited to have a look on the internet to see if there were
any bad reports about this stuff before I tried it. I could not find
much either way so later in the day opened it up and swallowed a
glug of very thick medicine that tastes a bit like marzipan. It felt
good going down so hopefully it will do the trick.
Having had a bit of a wash out day yesterday we have decided to
spend an extra day in Lijiang and booked flights down to Jinhong for
tomorrow night. From there we will work our way across into Laos for
the next leg of our trip. The rest of the day we spent ambling
around the old town of Lijiang, finding out that it is much larger
and more varied than you would ever imaging based on the write up in
Lonely Planet. It is maybe good that they only concentrate on the
very central part because hopefully that means the outskirts of the
old town will keep it’s lived in look and feel.
We walked down to Sifang Jie, the old market square, and from
here turned right and walked up to Lion Hill. Outside the little
shops here women were sat at every corner with a wok full of hot oil
cooking potatoes, tofu, mushrooms and slices of black pudding. Stef
tried some on the way back down but I think the flavour was probably
wiped out by the very generous dose of chilli powder that was added
to the top.
At the top there is a small park (Y15 each to get in) which has
a large patio with views down over the old city. On the top of the
hill is a new pagoda style building called the Looking at the Past
Pavilion. It has been built and decorated in traditional Chinese
style and is quite a sight to see. At night it is lit up and acts as
an illuminated beacon for the town. The views of the town from here
were even better.
The old town is a rabbit warren of little streets, all lined
with canals, running off in lots of different directions. All you
can see from above is the tiles of the roofs, mainly dark grey but
some with decorative borders and patterns in a lighter shade of
grey. I could just about make out the two main streets in town and
tried to follow these around to our hotel but it was impossible.
What you do see though is that the houses are all built around a
central courtyard that acts as a garden, very similar to the Spanish
style houses we have seen in South America.
The new town is very different. So far it is still mainly low
rise buildings but it is expanding quickly. Not only are there new
buildings almost nearing completion but you can see where the next
plots have been marked out ready for the builders to move in. With
no natural barriers to block expansion I suspect it will soon spread
out along the surrounding valley and no doubt the locals here will
have the same affordability problems that they now have in Dali.
On our way out of the park we saw a little café with a rooftop
patio and decided to stop off to have some tea. When we were in Hong
Kong we went to a museum that explained all about the rituals
involved in making and drinking tea but have yet to have a proper
tea ceremony. The young lady who runs the café (who had the worst
teeth I have seen in ages) duly pulled out the stops and got out her
Pu’er tea and associated bits and pieces and we went through the
motions. I liked the tea when it was fresh and weak, Stef only
warmed to it when it was well and truly stewed and bitter.
We worked our way back down to the main Sifang Square and
watched a group of Naxi women dancing. They were all old and very
weather beaten. It is almost as if this is the equivalent of Tai Chi
for this part of China as they all still seem to be very supple. In
the middle of the circle they formed an elderly man was responsible
for making the music for them to dance to. I am sure that in day’s
gone by he would have played one of the local flute type instruments
but today he accompanied them with a tape recorder.
Naxi dancers
Having had our fill of dancing we spent the next couple of
hours just ambling about. The map in Lonely Planet stops at the
square so we just took a right here, a left there and did not really
care where we ended up. Throughout the old town they have wooden
panels with a map of where you are and the few streets around you so
you can always easily find your way back. What surprised me though
was how far the tourist shops ran for. Bearing in mind that they all
sell pretty much the same stuff and that most of them had no
customers it is amazing that they can make any money.
The further away from the square we walked the more we left
tourist-ville behind and we came upon the part of town where local
people actually still live. Here people were surprised to see a
foreign face. I suppose not many people bother to come here but for
us this is what Lijiang is all about. People were sat about
chatting, knitting (a Chinese passion and always with three
needles??), preparing food and entertaining their children. The
narrow canals that are an ever present part of Lijiang still flowed
here but in parts the water looked stagnant and dirty. The people
who keep the canals clean must only work in the centre of the old
town where the tourists go.
We came across a small market which, like the others we have
seen, was primarily for fruit and vegetables. Again it was full of
colour and full of things we cannot put a name to. For the first
time in a market/shop in China I saw bean sprouts. They have only
been served up as part of a dish once in the last month although
they seem to be a staple part of the Chinese diet in the UK.
In the evening we went to see a performance of the Naxi
orchestra. They play in a small theatre in the centre of the main
drag. The orchestra’s leader, Xuan Ke, spends a fair amount of time
talking, in Chinese and English, and although he probably talks a
bit too much he was an entertaining person to listen to. When we saw
Ravi Shankar in Ottawa we bought his CD and it starts with Ravi
explaining about the principles and background to Indian music. Xuan
Ke reminded us both of Ravi.
The orchestra has just under thirty members and of these about
ten are very old looking men who are in their eighties. All of the
orchestra are dressed up in traditional dress and play an unusual
mix of instruments. Some had elongated guitars that they held as if
they were playing a cello. Others had wooden cylinders with a long
pole coming up from them and just one string attached. A couple of
horizontal harp type instruments were at the front, there were a
couple of flutes and then there was percussion – a big drum, a huge
gong and other smaller bells and cymbals. The cymbals were sort of
scraped over each other so they made a rippling sort of noise.
Traditional Naxi musician
Although it was called Naxi music it is in fact Han Chinese
music brought to the area in the thirteenth century when a large
military force was sent to this area by the Emperor. The music has
been lost in all other parts of China which is why the Naxi now
claim it as theirs. Compared to the Western style music that we are
used to it was very discordant and a bit hard on the ears,
especially when the women started to sing as they had not set up the
speakers correctly and it was at an ear piercing volume and pitch.
A few of the performers did solo’s and Xuan Ke over stressed
the fact that these people had had no formal education. One man had
a syrupy baritone voice and Xuan Ke heard him singing last year as
he worked in the fields and asked him to join the orchestra. The
female soloists were equally talented but the stilted composition of
the music and the screech from the speakers made it difficult to
really enjoy their pieces.
The orchestra has travelled far and wide throughout Europe, Asia and
Russia and they have pictures of many dignitaries sitting and
enjoying performances. It would be a shame if this musical tradition
were every lost and I suppose Lijiang’s world heritage status will
help to ensure that it is preserved. However, with few orchestra
members in their twenties I think it is something that has a risk of
disappearing when the existing players pass on.
