A Zhuang elder removes corn kernels off dried corn cobs.
The delights of Ping-an Village more than outweigh the costs of getting there. For C, this meant paying a toll of throwing up on multiple occasions each way during the two-hour trip along an incredibly winding road. On the route, 90-, 180- and 270-degree turns make up more of the journey than the brief straight bits of road linking them together. But even he stated unequivocally that the experience at the end of the road was more than worth it.
A village of some 800 inhabitants, Ping-an located in the southern province of Guilin is home to two of China’s minority groups; the Zhuang and the Yao. Historically pushed to marginal areas, these groups engineered terraces to grow rice up impossibly steep slopes, creating the Longji Rice Terraces by hand and hoe, immortalized in breathtaking images and documentaries that you have definitely seen.
I was bargaining on seeing these terraces and the view, but we came away with a much richer experience.
We tried our hand at making sesame nougat the traditional way, which is the only way it is made in Ping-an. It’s delicious!
Residents go about their daily activities without much heed to tourists wandering among the alpine-like multistory houses, inns and restaurants that cling to the hillsides. Elderly women work corn on their front porches, villagers buy crystallized rock honey and children play hide and seek.
The main footpaths are lined with artisanal wares for sale in a pleasant and zero pressure environment. We watched people hammering out nougat-like desserts, stirring up a famed local chili, weaving fabric, embroidering elaborate clothing and napery, and making bracelets and trumpets from water buffalos. Regarding the latter, they fortunately do not produce sounds as irritating as a vuvuzela because it was the first thing C bought with his allowance and his location could be tracked through the village as he blew it with abandon.
C was delighted that every time I tried to shush him, residents and Chinese tourists alike would shush me instead! In fact, he was treated like a mini-celebrity for reasons neither of us could fathom. There are many strangers whose holiday photos include C in their group or of him… Blowing the buffalo horn… Investigating a water fountain… Pretend martial arts sword fighting with our guide…
The highlight of our visit was when we met the local stone cutting master, an artist in sculpture, painting and calligraphy. He also makes “chops,” the traditional Chinese seals or stamps that were and are used to sign and authenticate letters and documents. As my brother explains it, “It is an important personal effect, essentially a portable and easy-to-apply automatic signature used since ancient Chinese times by poets, painters and merchants.”
C blowing his buffalo horn trumpet from the top of this mountain with a panoramic view of the rice terraces below.
And Emperors. Just the day before we had explored the Forbidden City in Beijing and the displays of the imperial seals had captured our interest. We had tried to get C’s chop made in Chinatown in New York, but were unsuccessful in connecting with the elderly maker and his erratic schedule. This was a second chance.
Chops are made of stone, polished bone or jade and are smooth and cool to the touch. C chose “blood jade,” a red and black jade quarried in Guanxi Province where we were. The bottom of the chop is flat and this is where the name is carved. To use the seal, the bottom is pressed into red ink and then applied to the document being sealed.
The chop has the characters of the owner’s name, which for C is his Chinese name: Hu Gei Wei (Cantonese pronunciation) or Shi Ji Wei (Mandarin pronunciation.) It means “the family foundation which is admirable and extraordinary.” The challenge was that we only knew the Cantonese pronunciation and couldn’t work out the Chinese characters. What to do?
The stone cutting master makes C’s chop.
Fortunately even this quite remote village has good mobile connectivity so we put out the emergency text to family who had copies of C’s name. Sandie upended her office in the wee hours of the morning and found it! As did my brother. So we were set.
With these in hand, the chop was hand carved and C is now proudly able to sign with ease, a treasured keepsake from this visit.
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