The Kindness of Strangers and another Scam 

I was the only non Chinese speaking foreigner in the 9 seater minivan to Lugu Lake.  It was an interminably long trip involving several stops for photos/calls of nature/lunch/tourist opportunities, one of which I wrote about previously.  Photo opportunities I understand as I do calls of nature as the Chinese use the term, WC.  However, lunch was a bit more problematic as we stopped at what looked to be someone’s house.  We trooped into a large dark, dingy kitchen and a cover was whipped from a large collection of prepared vegetables. 

The kitchen

A menu was not evident and anyway I wouldn’t have understood it.  One of the other passengers remembered enough English to explain the system to me and soon I was sitting down to a plate of tofu and vegetables.  

The next day I found myself out on a minibus tour with some of the passengers.  One couple had hired the bus and the rest of us added on.  The girl I had left the previous hostel with to catch the minibus because I had been told she knew where the bus stop was located and didn’t, but that’s another story, decided it was time to practise her English.  After a very unpromising start she ended up being very kind and helpful and between her, the lunch time interpreter, a young man who decided to find his English voice and some others we met along the way I was very well cared for and got to see things I wouldn’t ordinarily have seen.  Lugu Lake was not really set up for the non speaker who didn’t want to spend much money as there was no public transport and most places were too far to walk and although bikes were available for rent the terrain was decidedly hilly.  I was able to tag along with other people’s plans and share and reduce the cost. 

Waiting for a Mosuo performance at a house.  It was already pretty dark.

Some of the men dancing.  They project a cowboy image.

Some of the women

One girl was still a uni student and learning English but the others were all graduates of 1-10 years standing and didn’t use English in their daily lives.  The ones who were interested did well to remember sufficient English to understand me and visibly improved their English over a few days.

 

Another night we went to dinner at someones house which was listed as a hotel.  The Mosuo live in large compounds with buildings on all four sides.  This photo was taken in the grandmother’s room, an independent building entered by a tiny doorway where we were taken for popcorn and sunflower seeds while waiting for tea to be ready.   Her room was said to be 300 years old.  The furniture in the top left is part of her large enclosed bed, common in years gone by.  The rest of her furniture matched.

Some of our food.  The second plate on the bottom right is pieces of fat.  I tasted one piece and had had some once before.  It tasted OK, but I noticed the Chinese left it alone too. Eating outside was always a battle against flies.

This is the grandmother adding wood to the stove which is on the other side of the wall.  She has part of her skirt tucked into her waistband, which was quite common.  It seemed to be the way they  managed such voluminous skirts.  I’m constantly amazed by the amount and variety of food the Chinese manage to created from limited and often primitive conditions.

One young man was kind enough to invite me to dinner in Shuhe (Lijiang) with some other people he’d made even though we arrived on different buses. 

This is a better photo of the same  dog I saw at night in Shuhe before I went to Lugu Lake.

  He then went out of his way to take me to the bus station to catch a bus to Dali. 

On my last day in Shuhe I was wandering the streets taking a photo of a horse and buggy when it stopped to reveal some of the people I met the night before.  They were off to a nearby old town and invited me.  Their level of English at that stage was pretty minimal but they were very kind and it worked out well.   

The horse and buggy

Tomorrow I have arranged to be taken to the lake, a short drive, by the uncle of a young bloke from whom I bought some fabric.  He wanted to take me on a tour to some places of interest outside of Dali and not accessible by public transport,  but the price was too high so I declined.   I have been told I do not have to pay for the transport to the lake.  I will then take a boat which plies the lake and disembark at a village well known for batik making.  He said I can just poke my nose in anywhere and ask to see the batik making.  I went through the village on a bus today on my way to and from a market and it was full of tour buses. 

Another Scam

The bus trip to Dali had its own scam.  The bus stopped once.  The dirty toilets had a charge which I’ve never encountered before.  At least they had walls and doors, not a certainty in China. 

 The food area was selling corn cobs at up to twice the price of some other places, but as I was hungry I bought one.  The dried fruit was expensive too, but as I was getting low on dried fruit and finding it hard to find I bought some  pineapple.  I have since found some fruit in Dali but nuts are still problematic.