Jan 23-24 - Exploring Lijiang

As time is running out for me to sum up ALL my China experiences, I'll have to share only photographs and the highlights. Be sure to click on the links at the bottom of each post to at least check out the photo slide shows.

Here's some interesting info on Lijiang from a China travel guide

For our last two days in Lijiang, we decided to slow down the sightseeing pace and just enjoy the relaxed atmosphere of possibly one of the most beautiful towns on earth. Later in the day, we wandered from the center of town, got on a local bus, and headed towards an adjacent town, Sehe, which was closed off to outsiders until just last year. From what I understand, it was an independent Naxi community, semi-autonomous, and reliant only on local production and trade. Since it opened up, it sold off its farmlands to outside developers (planning on building modern apartment complexes and even a 5-star hotel) and shifted its economy to almost entirely tourism. Fortunately, being new, it wasn't well known to many foreigners, so it still had a pristine, untouched feel to it. In fact, we enjoyed walking around much more because it looked (and was) much more authentic than the "preserved" Lijiang. To get inside the gated community, there was a large front entrance, where outsiders had to each pay 30RMB ($3.75) to enter. However, long before we reached the gate, we were approached by a local Naxi woman who offered to take us around back to the secret (ie local) entrance for 10RMB each. We're talking a difference of a couple dollars, but who could complain?

Of all the great moments we had walking around town and talking to locals, two were most memorable. First of all, at the center of Sehe in a large courtyard, there was a Naxi celebration (I think they have one every night, because it wasn't a holiday or a weekend), where men and women, both local and foreign, danced traditional Naxi dances around an open fire in the center. We observed and tried to figure out the footing, which is easy once you get the code, then jumped right in. People of all ages danced counterclockwise, hand in hand or arm in arm, some in traditional furs and dresses, some in whatever kept them warm. The old Naxi grannies were by far the best dancers, but there were also Naxi teens who kept the party moving. The stepping usually went like this - right, left, right, left, left kick, right, right kick, repeat. Yes, if you count, that's only seven steps... being a musician, I still can't figure out how this always seemed to match up to the beat, but it did, and everyone kept in stept quite well except for us. Another mystery is that with the start of a new song, there'd be a new dance pattern, usually similar to the last, but noticeably different to me, who was still struggling with the last one. I couldn't figure out who sets the step for the rest to follow! We danced for several hours, taking breaks here and there to have a beer at the bar facing the town square. The festivities officially went from 8 to 10pm, but we, along with some other young folk, kept the circle (now broken) moving until 10:30 or later.

Another interesting moment was the following day, when while back in Lijiang, stumbled across the open door of a traditional Chinese doctor/therapist. We wandered inside and upstairs, where Dr. Xiao (pr. "Zyao") was napping on the couch, not having had any customers at the time. He jumped up and grabbed us stools to sit on while we asked him 101 questions about Chinese medicine. He said he could diagnose people by looking at their faces alone, and that mine seemed pretty healthy, although I could use more sleep (which was true). He was trained by the masters in Beijing (about as far as NYC to Dallas) 40 or 50 some years ago, and was certified in a number of eastern medicinal fields that I had never even heard of. I had always wondered about acupuncture, and talked about it often with a Seoul neighbor who studied it for many years. As well, one of my students wrote about his acupunture experience, assuring me it was helpful and painless. Before I could flash back into the present, I was on the table with my pant legs rolled up and a guy swabbing my shins with antiseptic. I told Wangyang that I'd try it if she would, and she agreed, but I didn't think it over thoroughly when I found myself going first, and remembering my intense fear of needles, no matter how small. Dr. Xiao tried to get me to relax, but I kept tensing up and even my palms starting sweating. I could feel the needle on each leg go in, and even worse, when he'd rotate the needles a little once they were inside me, but I didn't know until after it was over that he only stuck one in each leg (see Yahoo photo for a close up) - I could swear there were at least two on each side, maybe more. Admittedly, it felt like other injections - not the initial prick, but the feeling like there's a cool liquid flowing underneath the surface. This was not a hypodermic injection though, so it was interesting to know that something was happening to my blood flow with merely a silver pin stuck in the right place in my leg. Leaving the pins in, he rubbed my abdomen, telling me that this is where the body's "chi" is located, and so by moving heat and energy to that part of the body, I would feel more balanced and less tense (though my only stress that day was the procedure itself, ironically). I didn't feel much different afterwards, but I was glad to have the pins out of my legs, which indirectly made me feel better (perhaps one could compare this to punching himself in the face in order to feel better after the pain subsides). I was excited to see my travel buddy go through the same discomfo.. er, I mean relaxing therapy, but she never got any needles!! Instead, she got a relaxing, semi-chiropractic fixup! I had been fooled, but, at least I can say I've given it a try and will never do it again unless I'm a.) mangled in an accident, or b.) unconscious/dead.

See the photos (these are good!)