Most of my readers have seen rice paddies in terraces on mountain slopes, or at least have seen pictures of them and the astonishing geometry of the terraces.
When I lived in China I always wanted to visit the south, where the terraced rice paddies are more prevalent but work came first and during the vacations periods there were always other things to do or places to visit, so …. 17 years after I left China I had the chance to return for work to Beijing and I took the opportunity to extend my trip and do a bit of travelling into places that when I was there were of difficult access.
Among other places I went to Guilin, smallish modern and vibrant city, and the starting point for a visit to the famous rice paddies. I organized with a local tour guide and one morning we drove to the bottom of a mountain in the middle of the slopes and from there we had to climb a fairly high mountain with terraces in every direction you turned. It was just so beautiful, the geometry of the place, the accuracy of the different terraces and since it was the beginning of the planting season, not all the terraces were already planted, so I had the chance of seeing the peasants and their animals preparing the land, a very muddy terrain, so that later they could plant the rice sprouts, this latter work done mainly by women, backbreaking and hard. When we got to the base of the slope we were going to climb it looked high and imposing, but so be it, I was many years younger than today, 15 to be exact, and so we started climbing. The path was not very easy, slippery and narrow, sometimes I had to pull myself using the plants on the sides and sometimes I needed the help of my guide, although fortunately not many times. Of course conversation with the locals was excluded ad they all spoke the dialect from the region and I had no inkling of what was being said, but every time I slipped or cursed they had a ball, so I imagine my progress was being carefully monitored and supervised. In due time we arrived to a village almost at the top of the mountain, where they received me with smiles and of course tea which was most welcome. I was invited to the homes of some of the villagers and through my interpreter-guide they explained the work they do, what they trade with, baskets, carvings, and fruits and vegetables. I was also shown the school, which was very well arranged and with lots of kids. This made me think about the going up and down of pregnant women, probably up to the last possible minute before giving birth and the healthy constitution and incredible calves!
All women had incredible hairstyles and I asked them how they did it. At the time I had long hair, but mine reached probably middle of my back, theirs went down to the middle of their calves, black like coal, strait as water cascade and they wore it in such a way that it looked like a hat, first pulled to the front then rolled around the head and making a bow, it looked just incredible and they only used ONE pin to hold it all. I asked them to show it to me, which they obliged voluntarily, I took lots Sof pictures and they had fun about my reaction of wonder on their hairdressing.
Doing the hair
They also wore beautiful shirts, material woven also by them, and I would say this was one of the cases where the female were far more beautiful and groomed than the male, which in general in nature as a whole is the opposite.
After a while we were served a light snack of rice and veggies and the conversation turned into my dreaded return to our car. I dreaded it because if coming up had been rather difficult, I knew that coming down would be a total disaster or that I would have to slide down on my bottom and I think they dreaded it because the solution that could be offered would make some or many of the men sweat, not perspire like gentlemen, but sweat like animals.
The solution they offered was a Sedia Gestatoria or Gestatorial Chair which originally was like a ceremonial throne to carry the Pope on shoulders by four or more strong men. I was told that although they did not have a Pope, there were sometimes very old people that needed to be taken up or down the slopes and therefore this chair was put to use. Normally it would be carried by four strong men without any problem but ….. considering the size and volume of my persona, which was considerably greater than the locals, they would have to double the porters and thus the price. This explanation of course produced hilarity in all those present as they were calling me an “old big cow” and probably in not very polite terms, but since I did not understand a single word I even said thank you very much!!!
We started the descent to hell because although the chair was solid and the porters experienced, I was moving in it like a Mexican jumping bean and going down the slope looked even more steep than going up, I felt I might end down face first in the mud. Besides, due to the consideration of the passenger, me, already mentioned and the fact that they did not really wanted to dump me, they had to stop more often, put me down and take their breath until finally after what felt like a very long time, we arrived at the bottom, I could alight of my throne and happily pay for the safe return to the road. All was smiles and happy handshakes and me and my driver returned to Guilin with beautiful memories, great photos and the satisfaction that I had made it up and down the terraced rice paddies in China
Mementos of my life 