Baoshan Stone Village
7 November 2005
One unusual thing about the village of Baoshan is the utter lack of mechanized noise. That’s not to say that it isn’t noisy. During the two nights we spent in a Baoshan guesthouse (the Mu Family GH), pigs grunted about in their straw below our window, a rooster anticipated the dawn well before any light was in the sky, and donkeys brayed in courtyards around the village. Ellen wore here earplugs to sleep. But the only road to the village is a rough dirt track that ends a mile above town, and one can sit in the narrow stone-paved alleys in the evening and imagine that the sounds are much the same as they’ve been for the 750 years since the village was built.
The Naxi town perches on a limestone erosional remnant high above the Yangze. It is surrounded on all sides by steep slopes that plunge into the river, which just upstream emerges from the Prince Gorge—only slightly less spectacular than the Tiger Leaping Gorge and with none of the tourists. All available land on the slopes that is less than vertical has been carved into terraces that cut the landscape into a huge contour map, and by day the local farmers work hard to haul the fruits of their labors up to the village. We were in Baoshan at the end of October and the harvest was nearly finished.
It is a rare pleasure to visit a place as yet largely unaffected by the crush of tourism and we fear for the future of such a spectacular place. We spent our short time there walking to the river, exploring among the terraces and talking with the guest house manager whose family has lived in Baoshan for generations and who has taught himself functional English. We look forward to returning.
The village of Baoshan is perched on this limestone remnant high above the Yangze River. Upper and lower gates are the only access to the small town though a larger settlement occupies the saddle just outside of the upper gate.
Children working on their homeork use an opening in the stone wall that surrounds the town as a desk.
Terraced fields along the road to Baoshan. The entire region is steeply mountainous and famers have carved every available valley into plowable fields.
Terraces on the hillsides surrounding Baoshan.
A farmer working among the terraces. According to the manager of the guest house where we stayed, each family maintains its own terraces.
A Baoshan septic field and fertilizer factory. The pipe leads from a toilet inside a courtyard house out to this bucket.
Pigs enjoying relaxing lives in the streets of Baoshan. The harvested pumpkins that were being carried up the hill this October weekend are apparently used to feed the pigs. And the pigs are used to feed the pumpkin harvesters.
Bei watches as the guesthouse manager's son works on homework.
Farmers taking a break.
We walked down to the Yangze and found this ferry boat shuttling goats across the river. The goat's feet were bound to prevent them from getting into trouble on the boat and the goats were pissed off. There was a lot of butting of heads when they were finally freed on the sandy beach beside the river.
Characters on an adobe wall in Baoshan.
A wooden door in Baoshan.
Farmers flood their terraces to help them work the soil. The crops had mostly been harvested by the time we visited on a late October weekend. Apparently there can be conflicts over water, but in general it didn't seem to be in short supply.
Terraces on the hills near Baoshan.
More terraces.
Sorghum drying in a courtyard home. The sorghum is used along with corn and water to make bijou, a kind of moonshine that is perfectly clear when made correctly and that packs a significant punch. Our bus driver stopped along the way home and picked up a 5-gallon jerry can of the stuff which sloshed around and leaked a bit as we bounced down the dirt road back to Lijiang.
The pumpkin harvest was nearing an end on this pre-Halloween weekend. But Halloween isn't recognized here and pigs happily eat the uncarved pumpkins.
A pumpkin and drying sorghum in the windowsill of our guest house.
A farmer turning over one of his fields after harvest.
A woman and boy in a small settlement across the valley from Baoshan where we walked on Sunday morning before heading back to the big city of Lijiang.
Ken and Bei on the trip back up the hill from the river.
Ellen and Bei just outside of Baoshan.
One unusual thing about the village of Baoshan is the utter lack of mechanized noise. That’s not to say that it isn’t noisy. During the two nights we spent in a Baoshan guesthouse (the Mu Family GH), pigs grunted about in their straw below our window, a rooster anticipated the dawn well before any light was in the sky, and donkeys brayed in courtyards around the village. Ellen wore here earplugs to sleep. But the only road to the village is a rough dirt track that ends a mile above town, and one can sit in the narrow stone-paved alleys in the evening and imagine that the sounds are much the same as they’ve been for the 750 years since the village was built.
The Naxi town perches on a limestone erosional remnant high above the Yangze. It is surrounded on all sides by steep slopes that plunge into the river, which just upstream emerges from the Prince Gorge—only slightly less spectacular than the Tiger Leaping Gorge and with none of the tourists. All available land on the slopes that is less than vertical has been carved into terraces that cut the landscape into a huge contour map, and by day the local farmers work hard to haul the fruits of their labors up to the village. We were in Baoshan at the end of October and the harvest was nearly finished.
It is a rare pleasure to visit a place as yet largely unaffected by the crush of tourism and we fear for the future of such a spectacular place. We spent our short time there walking to the river, exploring among the terraces and talking with the guest house manager whose family has lived in Baoshan for generations and who has taught himself functional English. We look forward to returning.
The village of Baoshan is perched on this limestone remnant high above the Yangze River. Upper and lower gates are the only access to the small town though a larger settlement occupies the saddle just outside of the upper gate.
Children working on their homeork use an opening in the stone wall that surrounds the town as a desk.
Terraced fields along the road to Baoshan. The entire region is steeply mountainous and famers have carved every available valley into plowable fields.
Terraces on the hillsides surrounding Baoshan.
A farmer working among the terraces. According to the manager of the guest house where we stayed, each family maintains its own terraces.
A Baoshan septic field and fertilizer factory. The pipe leads from a toilet inside a courtyard house out to this bucket.
Pigs enjoying relaxing lives in the streets of Baoshan. The harvested pumpkins that were being carried up the hill this October weekend are apparently used to feed the pigs. And the pigs are used to feed the pumpkin harvesters.
Bei watches as the guesthouse manager's son works on homework.
Farmers taking a break.
We walked down to the Yangze and found this ferry boat shuttling goats across the river. The goat's feet were bound to prevent them from getting into trouble on the boat and the goats were pissed off. There was a lot of butting of heads when they were finally freed on the sandy beach beside the river.
Characters on an adobe wall in Baoshan.
A wooden door in Baoshan.
Farmers flood their terraces to help them work the soil. The crops had mostly been harvested by the time we visited on a late October weekend. Apparently there can be conflicts over water, but in general it didn't seem to be in short supply.
Terraces on the hills near Baoshan.
More terraces.
Sorghum drying in a courtyard home. The sorghum is used along with corn and water to make bijou, a kind of moonshine that is perfectly clear when made correctly and that packs a significant punch. Our bus driver stopped along the way home and picked up a 5-gallon jerry can of the stuff which sloshed around and leaked a bit as we bounced down the dirt road back to Lijiang.
The pumpkin harvest was nearing an end on this pre-Halloween weekend. But Halloween isn't recognized here and pigs happily eat the uncarved pumpkins.
A pumpkin and drying sorghum in the windowsill of our guest house.
A farmer turning over one of his fields after harvest.
A woman and boy in a small settlement across the valley from Baoshan where we walked on Sunday morning before heading back to the big city of Lijiang.
Ken and Bei on the trip back up the hill from the river.
Ellen and Bei just outside of Baoshan.
posted by Ken, Ellen and Bei | 6:00 PM
2 Comments:
Very nice report and lovely photos, thank you.
Thank you Joen. It’s been a long time since I wrote this!
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