Let's Go to the Malls ...

        Where we can dance the night away....

                                                 Yichang Mall 2006

Welcome to Yichang Mall

Yichang in Hubei Province is situated on the banks of the Yangtze river.  Open Air Malls are very popular with the locals. Day and night Yichang residents flock to the malls for activities like dancing, singing, painting, calligraphy or whatever they fancy.

                                               

 

Dancing is a favourite past time for Yichang residents.

          

Practice calligraphy on the ground, using giant paintbrush

Chongqing Mall

  

Over at Chongqing its kite flying season at the Mall. Chongqing is the jump off point for cruises on the Yangtze river and is located about 266kms from  Yichang.                        
                       

Lets go kite flying

       

Kite Flyers at the Chongqing Mall.

HANOI 2006

O Solitary Reaper

Behold her, single in the field

Yon solitary Viet lass....

Alone she cuts and binds the grain....

On the road to Halong Bay, 2006

CHILDREN ALL OVER THE WORLD

We are the children we are the world.....

Children's Garden, Rooftop Orchard Central

Children of Sikkim perform a cultural dance

Two Miao boys in the remote village of Dehang, Guangxi Province, China. Their toy is a dead rat !

Miao child from Dehang Village in her home with a ceiling full of  corn

Elder sister and baby on the rocks, Hunza, Pakistan

Hunza is also known as Centenarian Village but these

 Hunza kids tell a different story.

Cute kids from Yuksam Valley, Sikkim

Teochew boy from Shantou, China

Young Vietnamese lass is a charming crooner.

Children at play, Seam Reap, Cambodia.

DAZZLING DAYAOSHAN PART 1

Ricefields nestling beneath Dayaoshan mountains.

"The lofty peaks are crowned with smoky clouds,

In the forests centenarian trees endure."

is how one local verse describes the range of mysterious mountains and forests located in South China's Guangxi Province. Known as the Dayaoshan, it is a chain of mountains in the 2,000-3000metre range. Its verdant slopes which are hidden all year round by fog and mist, are the home of the gentle Yao minority group.

In Guangxi Province, there are 30 different branches of the Yao minority group. Within the Dayaoshan mountains there are five different branches - the Chashan Yao, Ao Yao, Pan Yao, Hualan Yao and the Shanzi Yao. Each branch of the Yao is differentiated by their head-dress.

The Cha Shan Yao, for instance, wear hats embellished with metal bands, while the Pan Yao wear circular hats. The Yaos of Dayaoshan have been mountain-loving woodlanders for many generations, living peaceably in their abodes, not unlike elves and gnomes in some green glen.

To visit the Yaos in their mountain fastness, we headed for the town of Liuzhou which is 140km from Jinxiu, the chief town in the Yao Autonomous County where the Yao people live and where the Dayaoshan mountains are located.

ROAD TO JINXIU

Land of Peach Blossoms

China is a land of superlatives where scenery is concerned, and the drive to Jinxiu certainly opened our eyes to its rustic beauty. We marvelled at how changeless China's rural areas have remained. The countryside seemed to be wrapped in sonorous slumber as we drove past lush valleys, redolent with pastoral tranquillity.

Timeless China

Flashing by our windsreeen, we caught sight of clusters of white-washed or beige, mud-walled farmhouses, black-tiled,with red couplets on wooden doors. In the fields, cows were grazing, farmers hoeing, ruddy-cheeked womenfolk with headscarves working, with babies strapped to their backs; peasants heaving stacks of grain, laying out bunches of hay for winter and piling wood by doorways. They worked on neat vegetable plots, fields of padi,sugar cane and bamboo groves. In the distance the brooding limestone cliffs of Guangxi enfolded the fields and valleys in warm embrace.

Sharing our country road were jiggling little pony carts, men leading bullocks, women hoisting bamboo baskets and schoolboys running pellmell to village schools. The rich produce of the land, mandarin oranges, pomelos and sugar cane were spilling from orchards and farms on to country roads as enterprising peasants set up makeshift stalls to sell their surplus harvest.

In this region of abundance, we were greeted on every side with smiles and greetings and warm salutations. Perhaps, we were plain lucky,or it was a temporary illusion, but here in the heart of Guangxi, we seemed to have stumbled onto that fabled Land of Peach Blossoms where people lead charmed lives.

Abundant warmth!

Abundant harvest!

DAZZLING DAYAOSHAN

Part 2
JINXIU

When we were within 53km of Jinxiu, the road began to climb as we ascended Dayaoshan. Jinxiu's town centre, made up of one solitary street is a sleepy hollow. It also doubles up as the local market. We were fascinated by a stall selling dried rats as a local delicacy and intriqued by another displaying an unending row of herbs. According to official records, 2,300 different kinds of plants are found in this region.The Yaos are remarkably friendly and are quite ready to stop for a chat or offer a cup of tea. While minding their stalls, some knit, sew or do hand embroidery. Although most of the womenfolk wear trousers and Chinese jackets, the peculiar hats they don mark their Yao ancestry.

A Yao doctor with her array of herbs

At Jinxiu we checked into a newly built local hotel, a smallish affair of five storeys.We had to trudge with our luggage up to the fourth floor as the building had no lift. The double room was minuscule and once all our bags were inside, we couldn't move around without stepping on them. We were not complaining,however, as the price was only something like S$15 and it came with a flush toilet and shower. From our windows we could also see the sunset over the distant hills. The Karoke, located just above our bedroom, was another matter. It effectively prevented us from getting a good night's sleep.

As it gets chilly at Jinxiu in the evenings we were invited to a dinner of dog meat which, the Chinese believe, can keep the body warm. Of course, we demurred but our guide and driver decided to accept the challenge. We sat at separate tables where we whey-faced Singaporeans, ate from a dogless menu while our gusty China friends tucked into man's best friend. Eating dog meat we observed was also accompanied by the revelry of finger-guessing games followed by rounds of wine drinking.

YAO VILLAGES

Jinxiu is a good base to outlying Yao villages. The first we visited was Meng Chun(Dream Village)which is 8km from the town centre. Situated on a hill it gives a lovely outlook of ricefields nestling in the valley bed beneath the folds of the Dayaoshan Mountains. Life must be hard in this village,which still follows traditional methods of farming, but I was moved to observe the blithe insouciance among the robust peasantry as they husked and sieved their grain.

Yao lass

Further south, is the Min Su Chun (People's Village) which represents a typical Yao community. The villages are built straggling up a slope and the whole village is linked by a network of rocky alleys, lanes and paths. A hog snorts nasally as our clatter disturbs its noonday lethargy.Most households in this village rear a pig, not for sale but for consumption as, according to Yao customs, a pig must be slaughtered for the Lunar New Year celebrations. The meat that is left over from the festivities is then smoked or salted and can be kept and eaten for the remainder of the year.
The houses in this village are flamboyant and decorative which is, perhaps, reflective of the Yao's personality and lifestyle. Each house has a flight of flagstone steps leading up to an eye-catching gate, painted in gorgeous hues depicting motifs of flowers, birds, insects or fish.

Min Su Chun Village House

OLD MOUNTAINS

The Old Mountains, which is part of the Dayaoshan range, is located 16 km from Jinxiu. Our mini van was put to the test as it slogged up a narrow, ungravelled road, grinding past lonely,wooded ravines. To our disappointment, the mountains were thickly shrouded in mist,which seemed to get thicker as we gained height. At one stetch, we could barely see within 50 metres and the condensation on the windscreen was so bad that our guide had to constantly wipe it with a cloth. We were literally driving through a sea of clouds which made the journey suddenly dangerous. Just as we were despairing of getting any good view, our van shot through the cloud path and we were in bright sunshine. With fleecy clouds floating on the valleys below and the sky an incandescent blue above, we could make out the thread-like footpaths used by the Yaos to reach their sequestered mountain homes.

Thread like paths used by the Yaos

HOLIDAY STOCKADE VILLAGE

In the same vicinity as the Old Mountains is the Yao Zai Du Jia Chun (Holiday Stockade Village) which has been recently developed. Reaching this hideaway entailed a half-hour trek
uphill and down dale. The Holiday Stockade attempts to recreate the ambience of a Yao stronghold which is hidden and secluded deep in the dappled forest glades.

Screened by fragrant trees, with Yao-styled wooden cabins which are built on stilts and set into the verdant slopes, the Stockade exudes that back-to-the woods feeling. Each cabin
contains a double bed and costs about S$10 per night.
When we arrived, chickens squawking and clucking, were running wild while a Yao lass, armed with a net, panted up and down trying to catch one for our group's lunch. The Stockade does not have running water but hollow bamboo rods, laid on the hill slopes, act as pipes to lead water down from flowing mountain streams. The sound of mountain water rushing through the bamboo rods fills the whole Stockade with its own piped-in music.
Besides exploring the surrounding pristine forests, nature buffs who stay at the Stockade may go on hunting trips, track down a river for a spot of fishing or simply enjoy crabbing at some secret pond. In a clearing at a lower level of the Stockade are massage cabins built of bamboo. Inside each dark cabin is a bamboo bed where patrons needing treatment are tended to with soothing Yao herbs. Presumably, such treatment is a much needed luxury after the rigours of romping through the Dayaoshan range. A 45 minute massage would cost aboutS$8.

SILVER CHINA FIR RESERVE

Our last stop was the Yin Sha (Silver China Fir) Forest Reserve nearby. The Reserve, stretching over eight kms, was specially set up to protect the Yin Sha Tree (Silver China Fir), which is considered one of the world's rare endangered species. The underside of the Yin Sha leaves are streaked with silver and when a breeze rustles through the forest, the leaves shimmer with a silvery glow. The Chinese equate the rarity of the Yin Sha with that of the Panda and four full-time foresters are engaged to look after the Reserve.
According to scientific research, Yin Sha trees flourished in Europe, 300 million years ago, where their fossil remains can still be found. In the Dayaoshan Reserve, there are Yin Sha trees of all ages. In fact,like a Chinese household, five generations of the Yin Sha trees live under one forest roof. One patriach,known as the king of the Yin Shas measures 30m high and is 490 years old. We could almost smell a primeval nip in the air as we walked in the company of these grand old centenarians or "living fossils", and heard water gurgling eternally over rocks in ancient streams.

In a volatile and changing world, the Yaos and the Yin Shas impressed us with their immutability. As we left the Reserve, we prayed that the Dayaoshan Mountains would remain their sanctuary for many more aeons.

UNWINDING IN SIKKIM

Shedding our inhibitions and leaving urban Singapore behind we set out to explore Sikkim's narrow serpentime roads, sheer cliffs, serrated mountains and turbulent rivers.

Our 2 week tour cum trek was organised by a Sikkimese tour company, Foothills Adventure with whom we had corresponded for over a year. The company based in the capital Gangtok conducted business with the simple faith of innocent folks such is life like in Sikkim. Though small and obscure they were no fly-by-night operators and we found to our delight that we were not expected to pay a single cent until the last day of our trip.

Our holiday started with a trek at the hamlet of Yuksam,which is the base of all treks in West Sikkim. Yuksam meaning three lamas derives its name from the historical meeting of the three Learned Lamas who came togeter for the coronation of Sikkim's first king in 1641. A stupa and monastery has beern erected to mark this consecrated spot and the stone throne from the first coronation is still intact.

THE TREK

Yuksam-Dzongri

Most treks from Yuksam are bound for Dzongri, a two-day march away. The trail winds steeply though pure wilderness of pine, rhododendron, fir and oak forests,of waterfalls and streams. Not surprisingly, rare creatures like the red panda, blue sheep and snow pigeon make their home here.

Unlike Nepalese treks this was no Kleenex trail! According to the park warden,the routes are kept in pristine condition by constant cleaning and maintenance, not forgetting the relatively smaller number of trekkers.

Sunlight hours are short in late Autumn and each day we had to reach our destination before 5pm or face the ordeal of groping round cliffs and ravines in total darkness.

At 4030m Dzongri is the place for closeup views of Mt. Kanchenjunga, the third highest Himalayan mountain, where we were headed. But we never arrived there, as at various points of time, members of our group of six fractious individuals, ages 12-50 succumbed to illness, fatigue as well as a broken toe.

The Tibetan Villlage of Tshoka

However we made a refreshing two-day stop at the tiny Tibetan village of Tshoka,the last inhabited settlement on the route. There our accommodation was a simple trekkers' lodge, a short distance from the village.It was spartan lodging, but we weren't complaining because behind the lodge were the snowy peaks of Kanchenjungaand Pandim Whenever the clouds parted - unfortunately not often it was like the God's smiling down on us. In fact in Sikkim, Kanchenhunga is worshipped as a God and considered the Abode of Gods. That's why foreign expeditions attempting to scale this mountain are obliged to stop short of the summit in deference to local beliefs.Tshoka village stands at 3200m and consists of ten tibetan homesteads and one monastery, clustered on a slope.Wooden hedges fence in a rural scene of vegetable and potato plots, grazing horses and women hoeing the land.

Over all this ascetic Buddhist prayer flags flutter in the wind, mutely beseeching the heavens.There's no electricity and running water and the temperature is a numbing -2 degree.Life is surely not easy so it must be our urban minds that paint utopic pictures of rustic living. But for our group who did not have to get up early to tend to animals or the land, the mornings were quite sublime - with frost on the ground and the whole world locked in a quietness so deep, one could break one's heart just listening to the sounds of silence.

Walking with Devotees to Kechoepalri Lake

After the Holy Mountain, our next stop was the sacred Kechoepalri Lake also known as the 'Wish-Fulfilling Lake. Although its set in the middle of a wood and surrounded by dense foliage, not a single leaf disturbs its clear, blue-green waters. The birds inhabiting the nearby forests are said to act as 'guardians' by removing any waste which falls into the lake.

Kechoepalri the Wish Fulfilling Lake

Prayer flags strung from trees formed a hallowed canopy overhead, while below holy stupas lined the path leading to the lakeside. Together they created a spiritual mood.This caused devout pilgrims to tread quietly, as they came bearing unworldly gifts - fistful of wild blossoms,incense sticks,butter lamps and prayer flags. The pervasive religious mood was enchanting and we soon found ourselves shedding our cynicism and citylife complexities, and joined in with the devotees to cast our wishes - actually believing all our dreams would come true.

The Wheels and Road Journey:

Pemayangtse

A two hour drive led us to Pemayangtse,the old Sikkimese capital, another ideal spot for mountain reflection and where on a clear day you can see the mountains forever.

Perched just above the town the Pemayangtse Monastery is Sikkim's second oldest monastery. It features beautiful wall frescoes and shelves lined with holy sutras. Especially beautiful is the Santhokpelri, a huge wooden structure depicting a vision of Paradise, which occupies one room on the topmost storey. The holy man, Dunzin Ringpoche,was the inspiration behind this feat of art which was entirely handcarved and took five years to complete.

Gangtok

Our last stop was Gangtok, the Sikkimese capital. With a population of 45,000, this is the only place in Sikkim that actually bustles and looks crowded. Standing 1,520m high, the town is built on a slope, with modern houses tumbling down in haphazard fashion. In contrast, are the bazaars teeming with local color - and they are the nucleus of life in Gangtok. Our group picked up some good bargains - woollen goods, Sikkimese tea, Tibetan handicrafts and religious objects.

Gangtok Street Scene

Sikkim's largest and most active monastery - Rumtek Monastery is 24km away from Gangtok. The buildings are modelled on its original headquarters in Tibet and are a good example of Tibetan architecture shimmering in resplendent colours of red, gold and turquoise.

Rumtek Monastery

Such is the religious lure of Rumtek that it has drawn a Singaporean within its monastic walls. This lama whom we had the affinity to meet has overcome the cultural differences and language problems and adapted to the meditative life in Rumtek

A PHOENIX IN THE LAND OF THE DRAGON

"Once in the Phoenix Tower

 the phoenix paced

 Now the phoenix has gone

 the tower empty,

 only the river flowing on"

A thousand years ago Li Bai wrote these words mourning the demise of the fenghuang or phoenix, one of China's most beloved mythical creatures.

Historic Fort where battles long ago were fought

On a trip to China, we were lucky to track down the legendry Phoenix Town or Fenghuang, complete with an ancient fortress and tower making Li's poem come alive. Buried deep in the heart of Western Hunan, Fenghuang may not have originated from the phoenix of Li,s poem. But it too has a long history stretching back 500 years.

Lying within the Xiangxi, Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture, it has a population of 20,000 comprising a mix of Han as well as Tujia and Miao minorities. As Fenghuang has all the rustic charms so attractive to intrepid Western travellers, we were rather surprised not to encounter any during our visit.

Perhaps what has helped to preserve Fenghuang as a rural backwater hardly touched by tourism is the fact that it lies so well of the main communication lines. Also its tourist facilities are so little developed and language pose a great hurdle. The nearest railway line is 53km away at the town of Jishou which in turn is 503km fromthe provincial capital of Changsha.

Fenghuang's Old Square

In China the phoenix is revered as the precursor of fortune. According to a legend, Fenghuang was once an arid forsaken village until it was visited and blessed by the phoenix which bestowed rain, fertility and prosperity to the area. Subsequently, it was renamed to honour and commemorate its benefactor.

Today, the only phoenixes around are those that still adorn some of the decorative rooftops in Fenghuang remaining as visible reminders of this mystical bird.

Although Phoenix Town wears a lost forgotten aura,it lays claim to having brought forth three famous sons. The first prime minister of China, Xiong Xiling was a native of Fenghuang while critically-acclaimed writer, Shen Congwen was also born and bred in the locality. Another cultural figure to emerge from Fenghuang's fertile soil is contemporary artist and calligrapher Huang Yong Yu. All these, explained the guide who accompanied us on our walkabout, were manfestations of the beneficence of the phoenix.

To reach Fenghuang we boarded a local bus from the Jishou Bus Station. The ride took us past wild, meandering mountain roads flanked by neat plots of farmlands hibernating quietly under wintry skies.

The best way to savour the picturesque Chinese town is to take a walking tour. Leading off from the bus station is the bustling one lane bazaar where locals carry on their daily trade and commerce. Some curious sights greeted us on our stroll: an open air clinic with a white robed doctor in attendance; seamstresses furiously pedallling intricate embroidery designs on their sewing machines; and colourful wild game dangling from street stalls. Then there was the night soil man trundling past with his dangerous cargo: old men sitting in the sun and young children riding piggy-back in wicker baskets.

Faces of Fenghuang

Old women visiting the dentist

An Open Air Clinic, Fenghuang

The birthplace and home of novelist Shen Congwen

Our first destination in Fenghuang was the birthplace of writer Shen Congwen. Shen passed away in 1988. His house of black wood timber tucked away in a quiet lane, is in a well preserved state. As Shen's celebrated novel Border Town was based on his childhood memories in this remote part of China, we were intrigued by the opportunity to probe into the psyche of this man as we explored his birthplace.

 

Shen Congwen writing about his beloved Fenghuang:

"...all through the middle reaches of the river in autumn and winter your eyes are caught by the cottages perched on crags overhanging the water. With their brown mud walls, black tiles and perfect setting they harmonize so completely with the surroundings that your heart leaps up in delight. Any traveller withthe least feeling for poetry or painting could drift here...spellbound"

From Shen's house it was natural for us to wander down to the river front to experience the place described by Shen's vivid prose

Late Autumn by the banks of the Tuojiang

 

The Tuojiang river lies just outside the fortress-like North Gate where roughly-hewn flagstone steps lead down to the water. Here, housewives pound washing with wooden paddles by the riverside, coolies balancing long poles spring lithely across a narrow log bridge, and fishermen with cormorants make their catch.

The harmony of the Tuojiang is a place apart

 

Although the "brown mud walls"of houses have been replaced by concrete, the setting and ambience appeared to have been fossilized from Shen,s novel. Tuojiang still flows endlessly. Dark crags still encircle the quayside houses. And trees still wear their late autumnal colours while the people's lives continue to hum around the riverside. The fortress, the river and the love story of Emerald the ferryman's daughter are at the enigmatic heart of Fenghuang or the Border Town.

...recalls Shen Congwen writing in his autobiography of the fortress ,
"standing at dusk on a high place in that town which stood impressively alone in the embrace of endless mountain ranges and gazing at the distant weathered walls which were all that remained of ancient forts, I could almost hear the horns blaring and see the torches blazing to warn of danger..."

Life is slow, simple and dreamy. We stopped to admire the garden of a resident and was warmly invited in for a rest. Zhang Junwu the owner, is 70 years old. Like a refined mandarin,he passes his time tending to flowers, composing poetry and practicing calligraphy. With gentle courtesy, he takes up his brush to dedicate a poem to mark his chance affinity with his unexpected guests

Fenghuang however was not all literature and poetry. It had its darker side as well. Towards the end of our trip, we were caught in an ugly incident with some local men. To be fair, the incident may have arisen out of cultural differences or a miscommunication.

My avid photographer husband had just taken a couple of shots at the Fenghuang Bus Station when he suddenly found himself surrounded by four thuggish looking locals. A fast and bewildering exchange ensued. Than a savage kick from the back floored him.

As he struggled to get up, he was downed by a punch from the front. Our guide who at the start of the scuffle was at the far end of the station, was instantly by his side, quickly dispensing cigarettes and dispelling the tension. The violence was so quickly quashed that we couldn't believe it had really happened.

Though shaken, the brief tussle did not sour our impression of Fenghuang. Rather, it sharpened our perception of the existence of the hard and gentle in this far off location. The sudden spill of energy in this otherwise placid community reminded us of the characters in Shen's novel "who are torn by love and hate, exactly what fills their minds it is hard to say"

As we pulled away from this place of stirring beauty that conceals a well of explosive emotions, Fenghuang's magic spun a web in our hearts, beckoning us with powerful tugs to return again.