Yunnan Trip

I just got back from Yunnan at 2am this morning. Here's a journal I wrote for Ms. F- pictures will be up on picasa in the next couple of days.

From the second we land in Kunming until we depart one week later, we are surrounded. Hoards of Chinese, some wrinkled, others caked in makeup and almond-colored from the sun, close in on us and seem to glue themselves to our sides. They push us down stairs as we visit the same hotspots, get in the way of our pictures, and stare at us in bewilderment as we eat our rice. Even the shortest rests are interrupted; in their eyes, our periods of relaxation are their best opportunities to get a photo taken with us. Nighttime becomes a sanctuary, for our hotel rooms are the only place we are able to escape to. Before the sun rises their screams wake us up; “Fu Yuan!” rings through the hotel halls.
I could easily continue on about our trip Yunnan in this fashion. Everything about what I’ve just described is true; each push, shove, grunt, and stare could undoubtedly yield pages of complaint. As the ten of us, eight students and two teachers, spent each day together, I witnessed each of us, including myself, roll our eyes or issue a comment of dissatisfaction regarding our aggravation towards our fellow tourists. After reflecting back on our trip, however, I’ve decided to take a different stance.
From the second we land in Kunming until we depart one week later, we are surrounded. A countless number of mountains, some lush with bushy trees, others speckled with new snow, form a ring around us, their beauty impossible to avoid no matter where we choose to look. During the day we cruise through spindly roads, slowly climbing higher and higher into the fresh, crisp air. The sun seems closer here, and its rays tickle our skin. We buy fresh fruit from local stands at breakfast and lunch; the mangoes are juicy and the apples tart and refreshing. When visiting the Stone Forest, we are in a maze of gigantic raggedy rocks. They seem to sprout from the ground like the wispy grass they are atop of, and peer at us as we try to identify shapes in their formations. We grab onto some of the rocks for balance as we walk; they are soft as baby’s skin from years of being rubbed for good luck. At the top of a staircase, standing tiptoes and looking above the heads of fellow tourists, I believe the rolling hills and tree-like stones to be never-ending. Later we watch the Naxi people, dressed in hides and furs, perform a traditional song and dance. Their only scenery is the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, powerful and almighty. A sole Naxi man sits on his small horse, a string of high notes flowing like water out of his mouth. He is on top of the world, and so am I.
I’ve come to discover that in traveling to Yunnan, it is incredibly easy for one to drown in their own frustration. The crowds, rudeness, and obnoxiousness are exceedingly apparent, and after awhile begin to taint one’s mind with negative thoughts. While it is difficult to avoid these thoughts, it is not impossible. With a simple tiptoe, and maybe even a push or a shove of one’s own, Yunnan reveals its undeniable beauty. In the end, how one sees this southern province is a complete choice. After careful thought, I choose to forget the crowds and see Yunnan for what is was made to be: stunning, unique, and a much-needed breath of fresh air.