that faraway

April 8th, unless i caught amnesia, dare me not forget that journey. 7 hours of trembling bus ride on the winding highway engraved on the surface of mountain, taking me to the most remote area in this kingdom of mountains. i knew their existence through documentaries on discovery, and only faintest thought exsited in my mind that i would one day visit the place, the Lake Lugu.without the roads, or rather paths it will remain extremely unaccessible; even with the roads, the speed limit could only be 40, not to mention the greet from falling rocks..anyway, that was how we got there, what the driver may consider as making a living, we call it thrills.
we checked in the hostel on Lige peninsula, the one marked by the arrow called La ke's house. the place was quiet, all you could hear was the water washing up the shore, and this is where the mosuos call home. the ethnic minority group has a very small population base of 50000, the matriarchal family system is exactly what the crew from discovery channel wanted the world to know, and the "walking marriage"...i'm not very interested in that though, since humanology isnt my major and i consider it rude to probe into people's private life. so, when those beijing folks eating their toasted wild boar and asking the young house keeper bin mar, whether he has walked into any fine lady's room, they were merely consuming his privacy to satisfy their curiosity..i dont understand why the women seemed more interested or arose by the topic on the dinning table, well, shut the fuck up beijing lady, how nice shall it be if i asked "have you been slept?"..show some respect and table manner, the tradition of theirs isnt a cheap joke of ours.
that is our young house keeper La ke bin mar, only 18...i must admit, the mosuo guys are handsome, high proportion of them are.
his name is er che, 19. we walked into the hostel ran by his cousin ge ruo, wanted to have a couple of drinks. he was kinda shy infront of girl, nevertheless as a boy filled with hospitality in heart. he came over and talked to us, mildly drunk due to the afternoon drinking session. we requested for legends about mosuos, so he spoke like how his grandmother told him years ago when he was still a kiddo cuddling in the arms of hers:

"thousand years ago before the Lake lugu was created, the greedy chieftain commanded the people here, a young boy was asked to do all the laborious work and not given any food as reward. one day, the boy found a cave at the opposite side of mountain where, to his astonishment, a giant fish blocked the entire entrance. he then cut small pieces of meat from the fish, and the wound instantly recovered itself, he was so delighted as then he would not have to worry about his grumbling stomach. days after days, instead of getting weaker, the boy was full of energy, and nobody knew his secret source of food till the greedy chieftain asked his henchmen to follow the boy. how could the chieftain forgo the chance to possess the treasure, so he ordered his men to bring the fish home. it took all the men in the village to pull the fish out of cave, water flooded out as the fish was removed, annihilated the entire village and the people, of course including the greedy chieftain, but surprisingly also the boy. only one granny was spared from annihilation as she jumped into the pig trough when she saw the flood coming, and she became the ancestor of all mosuos. when the furious water calmed down, Lake lugu was formed."

he was so immensed in the story, and he's handsome ain't he? all his brothers and cousins are. late in the night, we dinned in his place. the area was still black-out because the lighting struck the power line previous night. as i walked through the yard in darkness, i raised my head and i swear that was the most clear night sky with countless stars i've ever seen, i didnt reach for my camera as i knew it wouldnt be light-sensitive enough to capture what i saw and was so dazzled at the moment, reluctant to step away from the yard, not a single split second.

it's er che's cat, in mosuo native language, it's er che's "holee"..and we asked what's hello, it sounded like "nokia", but in fact a more accurate version is "norjia", i forgot what's thanks...
it was about to rain when we rented the boat, that wouldnt dampen the spirit for a sail. it looks like a hole in the cluster of cloud, but the water was calm.

the auntie asked if i could give her a hand, i gladly picked the paddle up, and rowed with her. she sang the folk song of mosuo while we headed for camel hill where we could get a comprehensive view of the lake, and sure we did. we chatted abit with the auntie, mother of two. the older boy is in P6, always the top in class; younger girl is in P3, not as good as her brother, but not doing bad in the class. i could feel the proudness in her tone, she raised them up, alone. perhaps that's the greatest comfort she wants.

on the camel hill, sunshine on the right, rain drop on the left...of course not forgetting the rainbow
she said, the kids will one day leave this place, but she will stay. afterall, they've been living in the old house for a few hundred years.

to be continued...

丽江番外篇：束河印象

藏人的玛尼堆。传说玛尼堆最初称曼扎，意为曼陀罗，是由大小不等的石头集垒起来的、具有灵气的石堆，藏语为“多本”；还有一种是在石块或卵石上刻写文字、图像，以藏传佛教的色彩和内容为其最大特征，有佛尊、动物保护神和永远念不完的六字真言，然后堆积起来成为一道长长的墙垣，这种玛尼墙藏语称“绵当”。每逢吉日良辰，人们一边煨桑，一边往玛尼堆上添加石子，并神圣地用额头碰它，口中默诵祈祷词，然后丢向石堆。天长地久，一座座玛尼堆拔地而起，愈垒愈高。每颗石子都凝结信徒们发自内心的祈愿。玛尼石的产生，使这些自然的石头开始形象化。藏族在漫长的历史进程中，涌现出了浩如烟海的玛尼石刻品，凡人迹所至，随处可见，它是藏族刻在石头上的追求、理想、感情和希望。
束河新镇，去的时候游人不多，三三两两的，偶尔看到花容失色的女游客坐在滇马上，觉得滑稽。
纳西老婆婆，婉拒了我们合照的请求，但还是留下了背影
新镇的边上，前往古镇
村口，白马。
古镇内，纳西老人。
屋檐。
石莲寺。
从石莲寺俯瞰古镇
经文幔纱飞舞。
瞬间。不想多说。

大理精选篇

古城五华楼，装痞

the catholic church in the town, ealry missionary seeded the religion here through one of the most treacherous mountainous region. The grand hall of the only church in town.

quench my thirst, watermelon.


the town.

蝴蝶泉外，满树的求姻缘的荷包，虽然明令禁止这么做，爱情的力量亚
扎染的衣服，新鲜出炉



TBC

大理番外篇：理发店

大理的风花雪月不过是过分商业化的噱头，苍山洱海披着古朴的外衣，灵魂深处早被精明能干的商人开发得面目全非。在那两天的走走停停，没有太多的眷恋。什么白族人的纯朴，那都是屁。到处都是被严重汉化的少数民族，纯朴是什么？是用来招揽客人还可以用来讨价还价的一个个客栈招牌，首饰，工艺品。讽刺的是，走在大理古城的洋人街上，才觉得有那么几分自在。

到大理的第一天晚上，踏着故意铺得参差不起的石板路在古城里闲逛。大多店家都意料外早早的打烊了，小吃店外各种食材懒洋洋地被晾在门外，看店的小妹冷不防地朝路过的人客喊一声：“进来吃吧，大理砂锅鱼，好吃的哟”，若是没被搭理，她便继续趴在饭桌上看着当晚的10点档，安逸自得。这幅光景，大概也就在淡季的大理才能看得到吧。回绝了数个店家的招安，才恍然自己已经走到昏暗路灯所不能及的街道岔口，这么着才发现了这家理发店。

准确地说，是这家理发店发现了我。驻足门外的时候，店里已经坐了两个旅人，弹琴的老人抱着类似琵琶的乐器，西南民乐萦绕着附近空荡的街道，听不懂其中的三音六谱却还是想在那儿站上一下。坐在门外的老人甚是热情的，连连招呼着，我便捡了冷落在一边的小板凳，挨着褪色的墙脚，听上了。一曲作罢，弹琴的老人在稀稀落落的掌声中腼腆的笑了，像是不想独自承担这份walk-in的殊荣, 他连连称赞那个招呼我的老人曲子唱的好，便动身取了京胡，将主角的身份全权转交给了自己的搭档。店里互不相识的几个人，一起起哄着，门口的老人恭恭敬敬地清了清嗓子，即时来了一段云南花灯。调子几乎都是高亢的，时而峰回路转，时而幽霾深长，但大都是高亢的。唱罢，拉胡的老人欲罢不能，听曲的人也没有丝毫辞意，他说刚才的曲子太悲伤了，要来一首愉悦的。唱曲的老人连吐了几口痰，想那么高亢的曲调必是对声道损害不小，可他唱到兴致上大概也都无所谓了，也许明天喝上几碗大理凉茶就复原了，凉茶天天都有，可是兴致却来去匆匆，没把握到就从琴弦缝中溜走了。

店里墙上挂满了两人当年意气风发的照片，还有各种各样的电动剃刀，杂乱之下相得益彰。弹琴的老人年轻时候长得像个学者，鼻子上架着文革时最不离经叛道的黑色厚框眼镜。现在老人的脸像团被岁月揉过的面团，依稀还能看到些许的羞涩隐藏在眼缝里，逃过了时间。同在店里的一个姑娘发现老人年轻时抱着小提琴的相片，惊叹道：“您还会小提琴亚？”， 他只是哼了一声，没有多说什么。唱曲的老人，年轻的时候是抗美援朝的志愿兵。棕色像框里是他穿着草绿色的军装，一脸严肃写着保家卫国，相片下面是战友的合照，墙上还钉了一张老战士聚会的通知，却也不知当年的战友现在还剩下几个。

离开的时候，帮两个老人照了张相，答应了他们会寄回去。拍的模糊了，可能他们对我的记忆也是一样的吧。

flooded thought

dwarfed by the horizon, i lived in the box and you lifted the lid, so that the light showered on me...i really want to pen down the magnificence i saw, the people i met, the spring blossom that scent the air, the water thudering down the gorge, the snow that vanished in my palm, the shy smile of the village girl as the sun falling west, the mantra of the tibetan monks echoing down the hallway and my slushed converse sneaker just like the graffiti in new york metro station, making no art sense but telling the journey i wade through...

i need to sort out my thoughts on the journey, for it remains in eternity.

back to light.

Notice: i m still alive.

to be continued...