Griddable » Miao Village

Miao Village

Thursday, June 24th, 2010 in: News, Travel

Apparently, our boatsman from the previous day had good things to say about the tours to see the ethnic Miao village nearby. So we found ourselves piling onto a bus with a bunch of Chinese tourists the next day to go visit the Miaos (which, by the way, is probably the cutest name for an ethnic group I’ve ever encountered). Our guide was a girl with a small stature and a booming voice, aided by her portable loudspeaker attached to her hip. On the way out she taught key phrases in the Miao language, and led the group in a song. Unable to truly appreciate or understand what was going on, I popped my earphones in and quickly drifted off to sleep. The bus stopped about an hour later in front of a large gate where a crowd had gathered, blocked from passing into the village. As we waited for the rest of the tour groups to arrive, small children loitered about the crowd holding up flower crowns for us to buy. One persistent lad stood in front of Jim for a solid 5 minutes, holding a wreath up with his outstretched hand as he gazed away from us. He eventually got the message and moved on to me and grandpa.

A short taiko performance hailed our arrival as well as the next groups that joined us later, then we gathered with our respective guides and made our way into the village. The village itself is much like any other part of rural china, with much older dwellings packed closely together, surrounded by fields of various crops. The cobbled streets revealed the the Miao knew of water-drainage, with deep gutters cut into the side of the road to direct drain water into the base of the valley. We walked right into one of the domiciles, the family there waiting with handmade goods to sell. The layout in each house was almost identical, with a general purpose living room flanked by a large wood/coal fired kitchen and sleeping quarters. In one house was an older gentleman watching TV. He had photos of his family over the mantle; ethnic minorities are exempt from the one-child policy, and this farmer was proud to announce that he had four sons, and one was an army captain.

After having an authentic Miao lunch (which unfortunately wasn’t all that different from our dinner the previous night), we started climbing up towards the fields, and the sight of all the stairs gave grandpa pause. He and Ben decided to stay in the village and get to know the locals better whilst Jim and I continue on. Our first stop was a cave at the top of the hill, which was rather unremarkable save for the fact that it had been used as a shelter during previous wars. Having lost our interpreter, Jim and I were left guessing at what else was being said about the place.

We emerged and walked along the edge of the fields, further and further from the village. We finally arrived at the top of a large hill which descended into a valley with a river running down into a cave. This was a play area for the guests to enjoy the rest of our afternoon. A long bridge crossed high above the water, and a pair of girls grabbed mine and Jim’s hands and led us across. Everyone descended down to the water and a few people jumped onto the bamboo skiffs and rope swings, splashing each other and having a good time. I was hesitant at first, but finally gave in and jumped in myself. The weather was beautiful and the water was clean and refreshing. Couldn’t do this on the Yangtze.

The young locals put on a fun song and dance in traditional outfits, bringing members of the audience up to join them in the song. I sat on the bridge and watched from a distance, fascinated but totally lost as to what was happening. Eventually it was time to go and we had to climb back out of the valley. “It’s a good thing grandpa turned back when he did,” Jim and I said simultaneously to each other.

Grandpa and Jim had been hanging out at a local house near the fields. Apparently the old lady who lived there spoke some other dialect than Mandarin, so even Ben had a hard time communicating with her. There was a dog for grandpa to play with, which is all he cared about. I showed him photos of the valley, and he agreed that he’d turned back at the right place.

The ride back was much quieter than before, as almost everyone was wiped out from their fun in the sun. We got back to town and grabbed our bags from the hotel and headed for the bus to get to our next stop: Tong Ren.