From the Dong to the Miao, back to the Han
When I wanted to leave Basha I looked for a lift and was let on board a van with a jolly group people who invited me to join their tour. They all came from different places,
Along the road a bullfight was taking place. The driver didn’t want to stop because he was pressed to be at home for dinner in time, as his mother had instructed. I would have liked to watch because in the Dong bullfight, neither bull actually gets killed but is chased away by the winner. At our village we were nevertheless rewarded by the sight of the champion of another fight. The awe-inspiring beast was proudly standing next to the drum tower and was the object of everybody’s admiration. Its owner patted it while certainly gloating over the big cash prize it had earned him. I was warned not to wave my red backpack in front of his eyes.
After a delicious dinner that can only enjoyed in
The next day we moved to another village with five drum towers emerging from the mist and wooden buildings erected without using nails. Then our group dispersed in different directions. I went back to Kaili where my landlady and my rucksack where patiently waiting for my return.
I went to Langde, with hardly any energy because of the build-up of intense physical activity in the last days, but loved the village so much that I decided to spend my last
I walked along the valley, gaining elevation over the watercourse. If I had had the time, I fancied, I would trek up as far as the path took me, in spite of the fatigue I was feeling because now enthusiasm was again the stronger. I crossed a couple of peasants leading a donkey. Surprised as they looked to see a laowai on that mountain path, their smile expressed warm-heartedness and hospitality. I would miss the Dong, and the Miao, and the Buyi, now that I was about to leave
Back amontg the Han, I enjoyed the night market in Kaili, the night scene in