<A> The Far Southwest of Yunnan

Yunnan

Yunnan is a fascinating province in the Southwest of China. It borders three counties and has touches of Tibet in the northwest. This province has as much diversity as China does itself. There are snow peaked mountains and thick humid jungles, overgrown green gullies and placid, prosaic plains. With 24 ethnic groups it's easy to jump from small minority villages to broad bustling cities.
Yunnan is very touristy with well-known spots like Dali, Lijiang, and Kunming’s Stone Forest. Most people however, fail to see what else this mystifying province has to offer.

I left the major destinations out of my itinerary and went to visit some of the less visited places in Western Yunnan.

As always my journey started at one of Kunming's many bus stations. The ticket I had just bought was not cheap, and as I stood looking at the bus, I had second thoughts. Flying is not that much more expensive. Before I could change my mind a man grabbed my bag and the driver honked the horn. I inhaled a massive breath; even polluted air was better than what dreadful smells lingered in the bus. I found my bed and tried to fall a sleep as fast as possible.

Towards the Burmese Boarder

I woke up starving and with a backache. We had been on the road for 14 hours already and I saw nothing that indicated we would be arriving soon. What I did see however, was enough to make me in no rush to arrive.
A golden sun was just beginning to light the valley and unveil the secrets in the shade below. I opened the window of my sleeper bus, trying to escape the never-ending stench of feet. The morning was crisp and I could see glints of frost sparkling off the side of the mountain. As my eyes continued down the slope I found there was no end. We sped around hairpin turns that made my stomach turn. The abyss did not frighten the Chinese drivers however; they know these roads better than I know that small balding spot on the back of my head. The road ahead ascended towards puffy, white clouds. Across the valley I could see microscopic cars slowly moving along the mountainside. At some point I drifted back to sleep.
I awoke at the bus station. I had heard many different things about this small city boarding Burma but I was anxious to develop my own impression.

Ruili

The streets of Ruili were dotted with stumpy palm trees. Hot, humid air blew gently through the mellow streets. Friendly locals sat on street corners playing cards as black skinned, white clothed Burmese, made their way to the jade market. Hotels were ubiquitously placed along the main road and I had no problem finding one that would accept foreigners. The Lemin Hotel rents bikes and I always found this the best form of transportation. I spent the morning exploring the rapidly developing city.
Ruili has always been known for the jade that comes from Burma. The market is massive and one of the best in China. Ivy green teardrops, pearly white dragons, and purple orchid flowered sculptures of jade all sat elegantly on display. The most dexterous fingers could only make these amazing works of art. It was a place for men with big pockets and unfortunately my pockets had big holes.

The Lost Waterfall

I am a waterfall fanatic and after talking to some locals I set off for a nearby minority village. A short distance out of the city I passed the high crumbling wall of the ‘old town’. The rustic rugged road was full of bumps. The wrinkled women who squatted outside their homes shot an occasional curious eye at me. Everyone loves to play Mahjong, and inside some shacks came the clicking of tiles and murmurs of players. I continued past the village on to an endless plain of sugar cane. The peacefulness of the fields was comforting. White butterflies flew melodically around the green shrubs, as farmers with yellow hats hacked at tall shoots of cane. They live a simple serene life that I envy. Up and over hills the silence was shattered by the buzzing sound of machines. White dust covered the ground like a blanket of snow. Workers carved blocks of granite into gravestones, tombs, and the famous lions you see all over China.

After a grueling 5Km I arrived at the village. I wearily sat down with some local women and asked for directions. In a dialect I could not comprehend they tried to explain something. One lady, realizing I could not understand, stood up and started doing the most bizarre gestures. I would never guess a woman of her age could be so flexible. She shot her hands into the air and started waving them from side to side like a fanatic football fan. She then began to mine a stroking motion in the air. I looked at the other women who were all nodding with agreement. You can imagine the look on my tired and burnt face.
After sometime I understood that the big waterfall was high on the mountain and I would have to settle with a small river. I followed a small stream past blood colored rocks to a pitiful splash of water that trickled down a man made wall. It wasn’t what I had come for but it was enough to make me happy. A calm yellow sun was retreating gently behind squatting mountains. I hadn’t much light left and took my leave in high spirits. Although I did not find the waterfall I expected, it was a memorable experience to reminisce with the retired and splash in a stream.

Arriving back in the city, I realized the vibe of Ruili street life.
Boarder towns can be chaotic, loud and annoying; Ruili however, is pleasant, relaxed, and soft. That is, until the sun fully sets and the night owls come to out play.

The Night Owls

I met various friendly people throughout the day. All who were not shy to ask me how much money I make before asking me where I am from. As I was in a new town, it is smart to protect yourself from unknown dangers. It is also important to trust people. A Ruili local invited me to see what the city had behind closed doors.
The newest and biggest hotel in Ruili has a dark parking lot behind it. In the parking lot, bulky black vans sit, waiting to fill. I sat in one of these vans, cursing myself for getting into a situation that might be hard to get out of. The van filled quickly and we drove off into the blackness towards the Burmese boarder. We dropped numerous people off before we arrived at our destination, a large cowboy restaurant.
We didn’t go to the restaurant however; we headed towards shrubs only a little taller than me. We went through a small-unlit garden before walking onto gravel. The quietness of the night was chilling. I could only hear the sound of small rocks crackling under my feet. In the distance I could see the outline of a large warehouse. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness a sudden flash of light hit me in the face. A security guard waved my friends and I on behind large metal doors. We walked towards the warehouse and I could hear the faint murmur of talking. The last door opened revealing the action. Dazzling white lights reflected off bright sparkling walls. Hundreds of people crowded around tables, shouting, calculating, betting, winning, losing. Yellow billows of cigarette smoke burned my eyes. I found a table and found that even if I wanted to play, I couldn’t afford it. Men were betting thousands of RMB per hand. I made my way around various tables and found the most courageous man. He sat fat and round in his chair. Occasionally speaking into his microphone, he placed more and more chips on the table. As the clock wound down the final bet was 24,000. My heart began to beat fast as the dealer slapped the cards on the table. Spots of moisture began to form on the plump mans forehead and soon drops of sweat began dripping from his chin. The dealer showed his hand and the now large, surrounding crowd, wailed excitedly.
I didn’t understand the game but I did understand the most important thing, the man had lost.
The white-faced man stood up with shaky legs and left the table. I myself had had enough. I found my friend and we headed back to the city.
The night was still young and the city had just begun to erupt. Young and old alike bounced from bar to KTV to nightclub. I made my way towards the disco with the loudest sound system. Inside colorful lights beamed across mirrored walls. Well-dressed businessmen with slick hair danced along outgoing teenagers. Young women swung their heads vigorously turning their hair into whips. Bad boys showed off their newest hip-hop moves. Machines on the roof expelled white puffs of smoke and the flashing strobe light turned the whole scene into a cloudy dream.
The night became late and the next day promised adventure. I made my way back to my hotel and said a final good bye to Ruili. The next morning I was on my way to Teng Chong

Teng Chong

The sun was high overhead when I arrived in the clean city. It was not big but it did have character. People seemed to go about their business in a very peaceful manner. Elderly women and men went in and out of busy markets hidden in the small streets. A tall sign in the middle of the city welcomed me with the people’s slogan, “Tomorrow will be better.” I felt great that day; I was really looking forward to what the day and the next would bring. Teng Chong will not disappoint anyone.

The congested smoke box of a van that brought me to the quiet and mysterious city, dropped me promptly off in front of a hotel. I said goodbye to the bamboo bong-smoking workers, and headed quickly into the hotel to check in and shower. I rushed off to the bus station that was conveniently located on the other side of town. Once I arrived I bought my ticket and headed towards my bus. I got in and realized that it was the worst bus I’d ever seen. The ground was littered with sunflower seeds and bit of garbage. The seats were rotting, the windows broken, and the engine obviously in bad shape. After three times the driver finally got the vehicle started and we were off.
I noticed instantly that the scenery was different here. After passing broad barren fields dotted with occasional tombs, prickly evergreen trees stood straight side-by-side. After some time we arrived at a fork in the road.

Big Empty Hill

We had arrived at the village of Mazhan. It reminded me of a ghost town. The one street in town was lifeless. The only sound was that of leaves blowing briskly across the lonely road. People came here for one reason, to see DaKong Shan, or in English, big empty hill. Thousands of years ago two tectonic plates collided and made the area around Teng Chong the home of numerous volcanoes and hot springs.
I walked up the road and got my first glimpse of the volcano. I could see why they gave it its name. It was just a hill, standing out amongst a bland, elongated plain. The only two people at the foot of the volcano were me, and the man who sells people like me tickets. The local government put a lot of work into making this volcano special. Decorated by flowers, shrubs, trees and hundreds of stairs, the volcano looks like it’s been dressed to impress.
After climbing the countless stairs, I stood at the top and looked at the dreary fields. Wheat yellow, rusty red, and pasty brown patches of earth lie sprawled across the flatlands. Monstrous mountains lie in the distance.
Other smaller volcanoes rise up near DaKong, contributing little to the bland scenery.
I walked down the volcano much faster than I came up. I arrived at the road and hitchhiked back to town.

The Village of Elders

I woke up early the next morning and left for the retirement village of Heshun. Not far out of the city, but off the main road, this middle-sized village has all the charms of Lijiang without the tourists. This place was very unlike retirement homes in The West. These Classic Chinese homes had crumbling cement tile roofs and slumping walls. A small vegetable market was spread out at the bottom of the hill. The elderly gradually made their way down, stopping every so often to talk to passers by. Outside of one door was a ‘WELCOME’ sign in English. I knocked on the large wooden doors and was chased away by two snarling, flat-faced dogs. A woman came quickly and invited me in. She gave me a tour of her massive house that she said once had 1000 people living it. There were four massive rooms. Each had two floors. In one section of the mansion carved wooden windows hung ajar on the second floor. She showed me her small music room that she used to give concerts in. Nothing had been changed in a hundred years and it was easy to imagine her playing her gu zhen, a famous Chinese instrument, in front of her guests. A large upstairs room was filled with heng fu, long Chinese scrolls painted with pictures or characters. The walls were lined with various works of art showing all four different ways to write Chinese characters. The woman shared stories of her life with me. She showed me pictures of her and her husbands past. Her face was proud and strong, her life has been hectic, and she was glad to share it with me. I left early knowing that there was so much still to see.
I hadn’t walked far before an old man called to me from a top his stairs. “ Eh, Meiguo Ren!?”,
The man had bulky black glasses and a large white smile. He brought two boards down the stairs and sat on one of them. He placed the other beside him and motioned for me to sit down. I explained to him that I was Canadian. “Ohhhh”, he said smiling, “Bai Qiu En”.
He went on to explain how a famous doctor called Bai Qiu En from Canada saved thousands of Chinese people during the war. The countryside people gossip and the news of this doctor spread across the whole country. He unfortunately died during an operation but is now respected everywhere. As the man continued telling me stories his deep expressions were powerful and moving. He drew a line in the sky as he explained how Japanese fighter planes flew over the nearby Taibao Mountain. After a while, another man joined our conversation. He and the old man started a game of Chinese chess. I tried to follow the intense game. With every move the player would slam his piece on the board and shout something. Although the game was interesting, the day would be over soon so I left and headed towards my last destination.

The End

Teng Chong claims to be one of the only cities that has a waterfall in it. At the edge of the city dirty waters splash down into a small canyon. Its actually quite beautiful and a perfect place to chat to the locals. I watched my last western Yunnan sunset there. The serene sounds of a waterfall are pleasant way to end any evening.

That night I caught the last sleeper bus to Kunming. I was reluctant to leave but in the end I decided that I would return. The rugged Far West has so much to offer. You must take your time to find its treasures. I will remember the kind old people and the peaceful life they live.
May we all take steps towards being more kind and living a life of peace.

Kyle Acierno