It was another picturesque morning at the Old Theater Inn, and unfortunately it would be our last. None of us could decide what we would miss most: the beautiful scenery and accommodation, or the sumptuous breakfast of toast, fried eggs, and apple slices. We said heartfelt goodbyes to the family running the inn as they helped us with our bags, and piled into the bus so Mr. He could whisk us away to Lijiang.
The vistas on the way to Lijiang were stunning. Evan pointed out our first glimpse of the Himalaya ( "Himalaya" being the proper plural form), slate grey mountains jutting out of the red, rocky lowlands, topped with snow. The highway curved through Lashi Hai, a valley and lake speckled with farms. The locals number about 10,000 and are mainly minority groups living in enclaves. A local export is the large "snow peach" which ripens late in the season. The lake was another stop on the Teahorse road that we were following to Lijiang, and the ancestors of the current occupants serviced the old caravans, just as the people now feed and shelter the truck drivers and tourists who pass through.
A long tunnel through the mountains connects Lashi to Lijiang city. Evan informed us that Lijiang has been a tourist destination among foreigners since the opening of China, but that Chinese started vacationing here only after the city received national attention after an earthquake. Now, the region gets millions of tourists annually, housed in 3000 hotels in the 85 square kilometers directly governed by Lijiang. That's 35 hotels per square kilometer, although few of them are ever full at any one time.
Our first stop was Baisha village, a preserved Naxi community famous for religious art, specifically frescos in a temple. The murals depict Tibetan Lamas, Confucian academics, Dongba shamans, and Daoist monks praying together to various deities and reflect the peaceful blending and coexistence of different religions and cultures in Lijiang society.
Another highlight of Baisha Village is the embroidery school. Naxi embroidery was once the staple commodity produced in the region, and government sponsorship is increasing its popularity again. The pieces created by the few surviving old masters of the art are done freehand to a level of detail and accuracy that rivals John Copley's portraits. A depiction of the Obama family done as a gift was nearly indistinguishable from a photograph. Lindsay and Arlen invested in a master's embroidery showing five water buffalo under a blooming cherry tree for the wall above their couch, and Ola purchased a piece with flying cranes. I decided that I would start a savings account and return one day to buy out the whole gallery :)
After Baisha Village, we checked in to our hotel in Lijiang Old Town, and Ola, Abby, and I went out to explore. We also made a pit stop at the local multi-story supermarket, where I would later guide Arlen in his quest to find Lindsay some tangerines. I ate dinner with the Li's at an artsy place in the Old Town. Roofless, with live music and unreliable waitstaff, it nevertheless offered a good view of the river where people were lighting candles in paper lotuses, whispering their wishes inside, and sending them downstream. As we walked back to the hotel, Lindsay, Arlen, and I happened upon a crowd of 100 or more people dancing in a circle in the square. Their energy was electric, and the rainbow of costumes and faces in the crowd seemed to confirm the diverse, accepting, and independent spirit expressed in the Baisha murals.
The only unacceptable thing is photography, as Lindsay found out when an ancient man in an army jacket nearly whacked her gopro with a small blunt stick. While mildly unnerving at the time, his anger and her refusal to yield are another surreal facet of the night.
Zaijian!
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