Arriving in Lijiang directly from Xishuangbanna by plane, I was treated to a drastic change of scenery. Gone were the palm trees and rice paddies of warm, relaxed southern Yunnan. The Lijiang region struck me instead with its crisp, more desolate beauty; sparse plains surrounded by huge snow-capped mountains, deep blue sky and low-hanging, rolling white clouds. The alpine air was wonderfully fresh, the colours striking in the bright sunlight. It puts the ‘sparkling citadels’ of the East Coast to shame.
Despite being a major tourist destination, the town manages to retain a surprisingly quiet and relaxed feel. The city itself is pristine, saved from the dust and smog that seem to plague almost all other areas of China. Although the newer neighbourhoods are an exercise in the art of ugliness (architecture and planning wise), the Old Town is truly something to behold. With its winding stone streets, footbridges and crystal-clear streams, this place is pretty striking in its surrealism. Every time I turned around, I saw the huge snow-capped peak of 玉龙雪山 (Jade Dragon Snow Mountain) towering over the backdrop scenery. I guess it was unavoidable that I went camera crazy, taking countless pictures much to the amusement (and probably annoyance) of my sister. I had to record this impossible place, this real life postcard.
What also impressed me is the extent to which the Old Town is preserved. Of course, the center is chock full of tourist stalls, restaurants and guesthouses, but they are all quietly integrated into the traditional architecture. Sitting above the town on the hill, you could almost convince yourself that you were looking at the past. Yet once in there you can get money from ATMs, surf the internet, sip on coffee in a Western-style café or watch a movie in your guesthouse. I am not sure who orchestrated the ‘development’ of this area, but I must congratulate them. It really brings into question the perceived necessity of the “bulldoze and pave” approach that is unfortunately so common in this country. Lijiang Old Town comes across as an organic blend of old and new, with old Naxi women in traditional dress walking alongside Beijing yuppies in their fake North Face trekking gear.
The locals seemed resigned to the fact that their town has been designated a national treasure and necessary tourist stomping ground. Old Naxi women quietly make their way down the streets chatting with each other, seemingly oblivious to the tourists marvelling at their costumes. Despite being heavily visited, Lijiang Old Town still feels very much like a living, functioning village, and not some horrible Disneyland Main Street China fabrication (Although I have the sinking feeling that in 10 years or so, it will be just that).
I myself found it quite easy to escape the tacky trappings of the tourist circuit. I was fortunately not there during the tourism crunch of Spring Festival, which according to some fellow teachers involved rather aggravating swarms of tour groups. Given the small size of Old Town, it is absolutely amazing that you can wander just a few minutes down some side street and come across Naxi people quietly living their lives, unperturbed by the East Coasters and foreigners crashing through their main streets. Better yet, just grab a 20-30 minute minibus ride out of town, and there you will find wonderful little villages that have seen nary a tour bus in their lives.
A lot of people laugh (or complain) about the Chinese tour group mentality, but I see it in a positive light; given their propensity to overwhelming only certain ‘famous’ sights, step two feet off the beaten path and you are left almost alone with stunning scenes of natural beauty and local daily life. Sitting on a hill just about the Old Town taking in the scenery, the oppressive bustle of urban China could not have seemed more distant.
‘Funny China’ Memories:
1)Outside of Baisha, a small town north of Lijiang, my sister and I witnessed the filming of one of those wonderfully cheesy Chinese historical soap operas.
We couldn’t really figure out much about the plot, but they kept making a few main characters chase some ‘baddies’ into a compound, plastic swords drawn for battle. We also present the locals with an interesting dilemma; when we arrived, they did not seem to know who was worth staring at more, the actors or the big-nosed foreigners.
2)The garbage truck in Lijiang plays some interesting music to inform merchants to bring out their trash. Think of a speed-fueled orchestra playing Chinese opera music, with its wails and crashing cymbals. Then think of that noise fast-forwarded and played through scratchy, Cultural Revolution-era speakers. That is what Lijiang gets to hear every evening.
3)My guesthouse in Lijiang, with its squatters-only washroom, seemed quite ready to deal with bitching foreigners: in one of the stalls, they had put a plastic garden chair with a big circular hole cut out of the seat. Cheaper than a Western-style toilet, I’m guessing.