Earlier in the day, we had rented bicycles to tour the countryside around Lijiang.  The passing scenes gave us a glimpse of the poverty that still pervades much of rural China.  However, we also witnessed the overpowering sense of community from village to village.  We often saw three generations standing in the doorway of their courtyard pasting the carefully prepared New Year couplets on the facade.

Soon after the New Year, we were packing our bags for the next destination.  Sadly, we had to leave Lijiang with a bad taste in our mouths.  When we first arrived at our hotel, we offered to pay for our entire stay up-front.  The attendant said it wasn’t necessary. 

Because we had come in the middle of a high-travel season, we were told that the rates would increase the day before the New Year.  No problem.  How much?  A 120 Yuan room would be 140 Yuan, is what we heard and agreed to.

Unfortunately, the night before we were to check out, our budgeted world came crashing down, as the owners insisted that they had quoted 240, not 140!  This is the problem that comes from rates not being posted.  After much arguing and pleading, we were told to sleep on it (as if we were going to accept this the morning after!).  Early the next day, we settled on a price, a compromise with teeth clenched on both sides.

So it was, that we left Lijiang with perhaps our only negative experience lingering in our minds.  But as our bus departed and headed towards the city of Dali, I popped the Naxi orchestra CD into my walkman and recollected the sweeter moments, of which there were too many to recount here…

It is said that Dali should be visited before Lijiang, because the latter’s candle burns a bit brighter.  I would agree that Lijiang has more charm, but Dali certainly has much to offer.  It also is a tale of two cities, old and new; however, Old Dali is not much larger than a few city blocks. 

The ethnic group that rules this roost is the Bai.  Though not quite as impressionable as the Naxi, they did also possess a certain panache.  Lining the two major streets of old town, Bai merchants offer batiks and other goods to passersby.  Especially alarming is the occasional woman who will approach you with a photo booklet of various items she has for sale back at her home, then whispering, “You smoke ganja?”

Around Dali, there are some wonderful excursions to take.  To the east lies Erhai Lake, a long, narrow body of water that stretches from Xiaguan (south of Dali) to the northern tip adjacent to the small market town, Shaping.  Yes, we did some shopping in Shaping.  Each week, it hosts a market day both for locals in need of victuals or household goods and for travelers looking to bargain for unique crafts. 

There is an art to bargaining in China.  The more interest you show in something, the more you’re likely to pay for it.  Invariably, the seller starts ridiculously high.  If your counter offer does not send a jolt of incredulity through the seller, you’re already doomed.  Nevertheless, just this act is well worth most any price you eventually pay.

To the west of Dali is a long, but not necessarily high range of hills collectively known as Cong Mountain.  We rented a couple of “Tibetan Ponies” for the day, and a guide led us up a steep, winding path to Zhonghe Temple.  Along the way, we passed tombstones and pine trees, young and old.  The view from the temple’s pavilion was spectacular, looking out over the entire expanse of Erhai Lake.

The descent back to Dali was a slow ride, with the ponies taking each step gingerly.  We felt stable and comfortable on the backs of these trusty steeds.  That is until the next morning, when we both woke up feeling like the horses had actually been walking on our backs the entire time. One service that is advertised quite heavily in Dali is a traditional massage.  It seemed like the perfect time to give that a try.  Lying on the bed, I felt the masseuse’s hands burrow into the muscles of my neck.  I thought to myself, “This pain she’s causing now will lead to less suffering in the end.”  I continued to try to rationalize the discomfort as she bore her elbow into my lower back.  By the end, I found myself wishing the horses would walk on my back to redirect the pain I was now feeling.

After a day of recuperation, I gave a student of mine from Xiaguan a call.  He offered to take a day to show us around Dali and the surrounding area.  He and his friend led us to the city wall, which was renovated in 1998.  Each local government employee and other residents were forced to foot the bill at 500 Yuan apiece.  As we walked along the wall, my student’s friend remarked, “We are walking on our parents’ money.”

On our final day in Dali, my student again escorted us.  This time, I had requested a short trek to a ducked away temple known as “Wu Wei Si”.  I had seen a flier earlier in the week advertising Wu Wei Si’s martial arts instruction.  Though no Shaolin, this temple did offer an escape from the rest of the world.  In fact, it was the first temple we had entered where an entrance fee was not required.  After looking around the grounds of the temple, we came upon a young monk teaching tai chi to a French woman. 

I had been studying Chen style tai chi for a little less than a year and a half in Beijing.  Though I had gained some confidence in my skills, I was a little nervous when I approached the monk to inquire about a lesson.  As it turned out, the form he had been practicing was a homegrown variation (literally, Wu Wei tai chi).  We passed the next couple hours instructing each other in our respective movements and swapping stories.  Most remarkable was his daily schedule: wake up; practice kung fu; eat breakfast; read and pray; practice kung fu; eat lunch; do chores; practice kung fu; eat dinner; pray some more; (time permitting) practice more kung fu; go to bed.  Though I don’t foresee myself living the monastic life any time soon, I have to admit that his schedule had a comforting sound to it in its focus and reliability.  However, our schedule was set to take us away from Dali, and on to our next destination…

To contact Adam Click Here