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The Sage of Yuanyang

(also – mushroom villages, mystery amphibians and a water festival)

I’ve been wanting to share this particular story for a while but was either wallowing in linguistic lethargy or uber-excited about other events that received priority by being so fresh in my mind. So let’s get to it!

After hiking the hills of Sapa in northern Vietnam I decided to up my game a bit and get off the well-trodden path that most follow up and down Vietnam or back into Cambodia. On the border town of Lao Cai I spent a night in a hotel that, after 700+ nights on the road, is still the only place I don’t know the name of – not that it really deserves remembering.   I wandered across the border into the Chinese town of Hekouzhen, with absolutely zero visa issues (see Rainy Days in Busan for a slightly frustrated account re: obtaining a Chinese visa in Korea).

There weren’t many other obvious foreigners around so, once again, I was a bit of a novelty to the locals.  One day and night was spent in Jianshui, where I was able to see the impressive Twin Dragon Bridge.

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I then caught a few buses to get further west (to get both closer to Xishuangbanna and it’s annual water festival and more in line with Laos).  The people started to take on more of a Tibetan/highlands look in their faces and clothing.

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I planned to spend 3 nights at Sunny Guesthouse in Pugao, Duoyishu where, even after my previous visit to China and all the time spent in northern Vietnam, they have the most spectacular rice terraces I’ve seen to date.  I took several relaxing walks along the walls of the terraces, as well as just spending time watching people commute to and from work along these makeshift pedestrian highways.

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The mushroom village nearby was another highlight of this stay – surrounded by rice paddies, this village of bricked walkways full of criss-crossing stairways that wove between cute thatched-roof huts was refreshingly free of other tourists; only the odd water buffalo blocked my path every now and then.

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At one point, I was busy trying to get a close-up picture of a very colourful lizard (so I thought) when an older lady started chastising me in the local dialect (not that it matters – my mandarin/cantonese abilities are non-existent).  I wasn’t sure what had got her knickers in a knot until later, when I posted a picture of the newt (the more you know) online.  My friends got back to me quickly with the identity of the offending reptile – the Emperor Newt (or Mandarin salamander).  They carry enough venom to kill 7,500 mice and while I’m not sure exactly how many men that equates to it’s enough for the locals to exhibit concern on my behalf.  Many thanks to that kind lady! She did well to scare me off before I ate the thing 😉

Bad Ass Newt

Leaving Sunny Guesthouse and heading towards Xishuangbanna I had to take multiple buses – first to Xinjiezhen then to Yuanyang and the final overnight connection to Xishuangbanna.  The host at Sunny’s was very helpful and all was going to plan until I arrived at Yuanyang and went to board the final bus.  I was just getting on when I realised that I had left my precious Akubra behind on the previous bus!  The hat was a gift from my work team back in 2012 when I had accepted the job to move from Perth to Houston – some symbolic Australian jackeroo spirit in the land of cowboys and longhorns.  I’d also pinned it with a gift from my grandmother so, being the sentimental type that I am, the hat meant a lot to me.

Fact

I grabbed my bags off the bus that was about to depart and raced back into the station, hoping to either find the bus that I’d been on or get some information on it from the workers there.  Again, language barriers presented a massive problem here.  I eventually got across the message that I was missing my hat (maozhe) and that I’d like it back.  Another helpful person was able to translate that it was a gift from my grandmother – which really got the Chinese working to help me recover it!  The station boss asked for my ticket from the last bus, which I handed over.  That didn’t seem to help and they were at a loss on how to discern which bus exactly I had been on. I even went to (and ate ate) a restaurant where I had seen the driver talk to his friends but even they didn’t know his number or the bus he drove.

Questionable hygiene record on display… a red C

It had been two hours so I skyped the host at Sunny’s and explained the situation to him (finally an English speaking Chinese person to save the day!). He said that he’d be in Yuanyang in about an hour to collect a package and that I should wait for him as he would try to help me. When he arrived, we went through the whole “last ticket” fiasco again and he explained to me that the driver had basically handed me a random piece of paper with some Chinese characters on it and not bothered with an official ticket – not that I could tell the difference.  My host spent 30 minutes explaining the situation more clearly to the bus station people but to no avail.  Then, seemingly out of nowhere, an old man who’d been stooped in a corner of the entryway to the station hobbled over to us.  He’d clearly been overhearing the frantic pleas of the stupid tourist that had lost his Grandma’s hat.

“Which direction was the bus heading?” he calmly asked, which was translated to me.
“North” translated back to him.
“Was it a morning bus or an afternoon bus?”
“Morning”
“Was the bus large or small?”  (There were 50 passenger buses and smaller 20 passenger buses going through this terminal all day)
“Large”
He though for a moment, looking in my direction but seemingly straight through me (it really was a surreal moment).
“C 932A4 – this is your bus”

The station manager and my host looked at each other somewhat dumbfounded – matching my usual expression during this Mandarin exchange.  The station manager went off to her office while my host explained that the man, who was by now back in his corner of the stairway, had pulled a licence plate number from his memory and claimed it was the bus I’d arrived on.

Sure enough, the manager checked her records, had that plate on file and called up the driver. He informed her that he had the hat and that he’d be back tomorrow with it in pristine condition.  I couldn’t believe it.  The Sage of Yuanyang had disappeared at this point so I thanked the manager and quite happily rode back to Pugao for another night at Sunny’s.  I repeated the days travels again and at the Yuanyang station was handed my hat as if it were the most normal transaction in the world.  On to Xishuangbanna!!

Not as happy as me that I got my hat back…

Xishuangbanna is home to the Dai people, a minority population who celebrate the Lunar New Year (Pōshuǐ jié) in a similar fashion to Laotians (Pi Mai), Thai (Songkran) and several other Southeast Asian communities.  The Water Sprinkling Festival was what I had come for and it did not disappoint!  There were only a handful of western tourists around, which gave the festival a very authentic feel – it wasn’t put on for show.  I soon realised that water-guns were a poor choice of weapon and reverted to scooping water out of fountains and off the ground with bowls and small buckets.  I was targeted heavily but had a great final day in China before heading south to Laos.

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4 thoughts on “The Sage of Yuanyang

    1. Thanks Mike – I’m trying to catch up now… Lots of stories in my head that I need to write down so that I can remember them all in the future!

    2. What fun at the water sprinkling festival. Looks like you had someone to help take photos and keep your camera dry.

      1. Cheers Dad, it was almost as crazy as Songkran in Bangkok this year! I honestly can’t remember who took those photos… Lot’s of people had their phones in ziplock bags and little waterproof purses.

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