Beautiful Endings
Okay, so the best adventure was definitely the cave. But we’ll get to that in a second.
Last Sunday, one of my students, a woman named Jessica, asked if I wanted to go for a bike ride and “see the sceneries.” Little did I know, that meant 10 km of cycling and going to tourist attractions. But the bike ride was gorgeous – winding roads through karst peaks, a beautiful white carved bridge over the Yulong – and entirely worth it. We passed through a field filled with little orange and red flowers, trees with white and pink blossoms, and more sunflowers than I have ever seen in my life. There were even a few little white horses and water buffalo along the way. The strange pseudo-museum we got tickets to (it was set up like a museum, but without any artifacts or historical accuracy and with a lot of Chinese actors in cheetah print and face paint) was followed by a stunning dance show, complete with pyrotechnics, intense drumming, a five minute video of a naked woman dancing, glowing lanterns, and lights on silk.
On our way into town for some dinner, we stopped by another popular tourist spot: the Big Banyan Tree. Banyan trees are special, as their branches can become roots if they reach the ground. This particular tree was very special, as it’s over a thousand years old, and has many trunks. As the setting sun turned golden over the river, we took a little bamboo raft across to get a better viewing angle. It was a beautiful end to a beautiful day.
During the weekdays, I’ve been working for Chango Education, a new organization focusing on global and outdoor education for kids. It’s been a really cool opportunity to see a side of the Chinese education system that’s changing, encouraging children to focus on their individuality and expand their horizons. It’s also been a great opportunity to explore the area more. On our first day of camp, we walked for three hours through villages, around forests, and across farmland to arrive at a campsite by a river (and by campsite, I mean an empty grass field with a small bathroom nearby that’s about a twenty minute walk away from other living beings, other than the farmer and his two cows that would cross through every day). We spent the rest of the afternoon building catapults with bamboo and playing games with the kids. That’s been another fun adventure – playing games, teaching, and taking care of kids who could only speak Chinese. A few of my coworkers speak a little English, so when I’m really stuck, there’s always someone to help, but it’s definitely still a bit of a challenge.
The rest of the camp days have been filled with rock-climbing, abseiling, hiking, archery, and, my favorite, caving. The cave we went to was called Moon Water Cave. This was not some big, lit-up cavern with paved walkways for tourists. We armed ourselves with flashlights and hard hats, then loaded the kids into a long, low boat that an old man guided into a crevice in the rocks. For the next two hours, we trekked in darkness through the inside of a mountain, our only company being the occasional bat or two. The path progressed from tunnels, where the adults had to crouch low to avoid dripping stalactites, to huge open spaces filled with beautiful white grey stalagmites that looked like hundreds of jellyfish all pushed together, to slippery trails past mud baths, until, finally, we reached the final stretch: half an hour splashing through a knee-deep underground river. We emerged to the most quiet farm landscape, accompanied only by the sound of birds and butterflies, not another human in sight for miles. After, a motorbike took me home to Zhuoyue, and my Kiwi friend and I ditched the school barbecue for a sunset swim at the river. It was another beautiful ending – which is how every day is starting to feel.
I leave China too soon; I’m not ready at all to leave these people or these places. The most comforting thought is that I know I’ll be back – there’s so much more to explore. And of course, I still have a bit more time for adventuring. I know these last few days will not disappoint.