California tree huggers.
Carpenters at a wood mill chipping slots into freshly-stripped pine trees. Not a single power tool in sight.
The Cheng Yang scenic covered bridge. On market day, vendors set up stalls along the bridge; rice farmers use it to cross the river to their rice fields and hide from heavy rains.
View of the rice fields from the Cheng Yang covered bridge.
Dong villagers hanging out just before the youngsters perform a traditional song-and-dance number for us tourists. I managed to catch that little girl on the right mid-flight as she jumps off that step.
This is the guest hostel we stayed at in the Cheng Yang village of Dong people. Our room was on the second floor.
View from our hostel room at the Dong village of Cheng Yang.
The second-floor porch at the hostel in Cheng Yang where I sat and wrote postcards for a while. The earthenware pot holds deliciously sweet rice wine that has been aged for 6 months and still has the cake of fermenting brown rice sitting there in the bottom of it. Rough life!
Boy did I crank out postcards during this trip.
There was a lot of great woodwork on display in China, like the decorative latticework around this window.
Shamma took us into the home of a Dong villager family, including 4 generations of people. This is one of the great-grandmas, aged 93.
The two sisters on either side of us are 92 and 93 respectively; they are fully mobile and appear to be mentally sharp.
This is one of the great-grandpas of the house. They take the Celt-Norse tradition of naming Eric's son "Ericson" and turn it on its head; if this guy is named Eric, then when he bears a son and names it Steve, he changes his own name to "Steve's dad." Then 20 years later when Steve has his own son Frank, Steve changes his name to "Frank's dad," and so on.
Us outside the Cheng Yang village.
Oldsters lounge outside the drum tower in Cheng Yang.
The shower in our hostel room hangs directly over the hole in the ground a.k.a. toilet. Watch your step! Also, notice the plastic tube coming out of the base of the sink-- all sink water goes down the drain and into that tube, then runs across the floor and into the toilet. The toilet also serves as the drain for the shower.
It's not quite proper English but I think I get the point...
This is not what it looks like-- I promise. This is a flute-like bamboo musical instrument that the villagers let me try out.
Strong ladies carrying piles of bricks on their backs through the village.
Singin'