Too much

Oliver is feeling slightly unwell as we camp in the narrow alleyways of Lijiang, a charming valley town nestled between rough gray-green peaks and the blueness of a sky that can only be described by altitude. We are in the southwest of China. It is a mixing point of culture and environment that caught our breath as we rounded every bumpy bend along our bus ride through the countryside. The land roller coasters from lush subtropical fruits in deep valleys, climbs into high, dry, sweet pine-smelling forests shrouding the Himalayan foothills. It is where Han Chinese is finally met by minorities in force, by Tibetans, and Naxi, Dai, and the influences of Burma, Thailand, and Laos that surround Yunnan Provence.

Everyday I hope to record the details of our travels. We have felt countless textures of humanity... a woman washing shoes in her smoke lit doorway, the sweat and sweetness of climbing through green, misty forests, the resonance of sound and motion as a gong sounds temple prayers... but before I have time to fully process the impressions of similarity and difference, we are whisked away to our next destination.

There is simply too much, but it seems such a shame to leave it as such. I couldn't possibly write anything worth reading that accurately reflects our past few weeks, but I would like to share a few thoughts and memories.

Pilgrimage: As we hiked up Mount Emei on Easter weekend, I began to reflect upon the idea of pilgrimage. I believe it is supposed to be a journey of moral or spiritual significance. Emei Shan has been a place of Buddhist worship for centuries. In addition to the mystical quality of the landscape, temples and monasteries are scattered along the route to the top. Oliver and I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but after 12 hours of ascent and as many of panting, I knew the feeling of sacrifice in the journey and sheer elation at the summit. We were joined an hour's hike from the summit by busloads of Chinese tourists who "cheat" their way to the top. Pilgrimage? It must come in different shapes and sizes.

Retreat: After spending a month and a half in Beijing and hopping from city to city and attration to attraction, nothing felt better than to escape to a mountain lake with few guests, cheap but genuine accomodation, and unbelievable natural beauty. Before Lugo Lake, I would not have believed that China could boast such clarity of water and air. The sky and lake were duling depths of blue. We bushwhacked our way around the shore a bit, but mostly were content to lounge in the soft breeze and partial shade (after a pretty deep sunburn on my part) reading books, sighing over the shapes of clouds or the song of a Mosuo fisherman. We rested and relished the break from the gogogo of travel.

And there's more! But I suppose that can wait for another time when the words eventually come. Perhaps our photos will be the biggest aid.