And we’re off …
As soon as I knew this would be my last year working at Shanghai American School, I began planning my farewell tour through Southwest China and Tibet. My friend and colleague, Cath, was returning to Canada after two years, so she was eager to join me. For months, we talked and planned, but we were distracted by the stress of wrapping up the school year, organizing the ESOL Department for the incoming teachers, and coordinating the packing and shipping of our respective apartments, as well as all the social events that filled the calendar in the school year’s waning weeks. Consumed with all our obligations, we turned over the planning to a travel agent, paid by credit card, and put it out of our minds. Suddenly, the last day of school had come and gone, and we were on a plane to Lijiang, China, to kick off our 10-day trip.

Beautiful Lijiang
Our guide, Li Qiong, met us at the airport. We drove about 20 minutes through lush countryside and mountains to reach Lijiang’s Old Town.  First built in the Song Dynasty around 900 years ago, the town was nearly leveled by an earthquake in 1996. However, the architecture of the Naxi ethnic group largely survived, and the city opted to clear away all the concrete rubble and rebuild much of Lijiang using the traditional Naxi style. As news outlets reported on the earthquake and the historic rebuilding, the world got a glimpse of the region’s unique landscape and culture. UNESCO declared it a world cultural legacy in 1997.

The Jade River flows down the mountains and directly into the town. It branches off into four tributaries that flow through residential courtyards and alongside shops and restaurants. Bright orange and white koi fish add a splash of color to the narrow canals. Cobblestone streets, arched wooden bridges and preserved buildings with traditional tilted-up eaves hung with red lanterns contribute to the town’s quaintness. Jade Dragon Snow Mountain occasionally makes an appearance in the distance, its white peaks jutting out of the clouds.

Especially in the calm early morning, we could easily envision life in this ancient village before the throngs of Chinese tourists, before the pounding techno music emanating from Bar Street, before the influx of mass-produced cheap souvenirs. Lucky for us, Li Qiong shared our nostalgia and steered us away from the touristy destinations as much as possible.

From Old Town in Lijiang

Black Dragon Pool Park
We checked in to a traditional courtyard guesthouse and looked despairingly at the gray clouds. Unprepared for inclement weather, I bought a plastic raincoat for a little more than $1, borrowed an umbrella from the hotel and set off for Black Dragon Pool Park. Despite the sporadic showers, Li Qiong took us for a peaceful walk around the lake, which was ringed with willow trees and purple bougainvillea. In contrast to the shouting, pushing, photo-manic crowds of tourists, Li Qiong meandered along the path, rubbing her fingers over the unusual bark of the Mahjong Tree or bending down to collect a raindrop from a flower. She paused to enjoy the reflection of the clouds in the lake and exclaimed with joy whenever the sun peeked out and glinted off the pale green water. As we crossed a marble bridge, she fingered the whimsical characters decorating the railing as though she’d never noticed them before. At a shallow corner of the lake, she showed us how a sweet song could call up bubbles from the lake’s underground spring. Cath and I sang “Do, Re, Mi” from “The Sound of Music” – me, in English; Cath, in French. Sure enough, bubbles rose from the lakebed and popped on the surface.

Many of the lakeside buildings featured two architectural curiosities: a brick-colored wooden fish hanging down from the roof and a psychotic looking clay cat with wild eyes and a big open mouth sitting on top of the roof. Li Qiong explained. The fish symbolized water and served to protect the wooden buildings that were so prone to fire. The cat had a different purpose. During hard times, when many residents were poor and hungry, only wealthy families found rats in their homes because only they had crumbs or scraps of food to attract the rodents. The rooftop cat served to both ward off the rats and to brag a bit to the neighbors that the home had enough food to feed the family and attract the rats.

While most Chinese tour guides do their best to make foreigners comfortable, Li Qiong fell into another category altogether. Before becoming a tour guide, she had traveled to Thailand, where she taught Chinese and studied yoga for two years. Cath and I felt like we’d found a soul sister in this eco-conscious, peace-loving, adventure-embracing woman.

As we walked through Old Town, we noticed many women in traditional clothing of the two most common ethnic groups of the area – Naxi and Yi. We assumed the costumes were part of the tourist attraction, but Li Qiong said the clothes are very practical for the villagers, who still do a great deal of manual labor. The cushion on the back of the dress protects a woman’s back when she carries heavy loads, for example.

After dinner, we all enjoyed a massage in Old Town, where people were singing and dancing in the square below. The travel and altitude (2,200 meters) made Cath and me quite tired, so we crashed early.