Homestay Horror, Jan 31/2010

After leaving the modern metropolis of Hong Kong, we were plunged deep into the roots of rural China. We took an overnight train to Kaili, on which there was a crying baby all night long and it got me second thinking motherhood. Once we arrived we had just enough time to freshen up before boarding another bus that would take us to the local village.

The village, whose name I can't pronounce, consisted mostly of the Miao minority. According to legend, the first Miao people were born from the eggs of butterflies. Once we arrived, we were greeted by the head of cultural exchange, Mr. Pan. It was just our luck that we happened upon this village for it's market day, so Mr. Pan took us on a tour of the village.

The local ladies were selling their hand embroidered texttiles. Their hair was swept up in the traditional style, held securly in place by a colourful comb. There were plenty of animals for sale: chickens, pigs, dogs, etc. Convienently, while shopping we could also visit the local dentist. He was hanging out on the street corner where he was meticulously yanking out the few teeth that an old man had left with a pair of rusty plyers! Cheap and efficient.

Eventually we started our short trek to the homestay - about 45-minute from the village centre. We were warmly greeted by our host family and even though they didn't speak any english, they had no trouble making us feel welcome. There was another minority group visiting at the same time as part of a cultural exchange program so it was a full house. The ladies of the house hurried off to prepare dinner, which would take a few hours, while the rest of us took part in some games. We played musical chairs and hot potato - whatever we could that didn't envolve language. Whenever some one lost they had to get up and do a song or dance. We had a grand ol'time (I just hope that I didn't embarrass myself too much :) We also had a traslator there for awhile as well, so we were able to ask some questions of each other.

Before we knew it dinner was ready and we all crowded around three round tables. Most of us stuck to the rice since the main dish was pig innerds and intestines. I had a few bites so as not to insult our host - it tasted just like I had imagined. Then the rice wine began to flow. We toasted every few minutes and no cup was left empty for more then a few seconds. We took turns again singing songs to eachother in english and chinese. The Chinese Loeto sing, especially at supper. We were then ushered outside were two huge bamboo instruments, called Lushungs, were played while the rest of us danced into the night. We learned and took part in the local dances, although we were terrible at it and a little tipsy from all the wine.

Now here comes the horror part. As the evening went on, everyone around me became more and more intoxicated. The men were insisting that we empty our cups every few minute and were relentlously in their persuit to get us smashed. I politely refused but they still pushed on. Eventually the question of our accomodation came up and the answer we got was not good. Apparently because of the visiting minority group, there was no more room at our host's house. So they had decided to separate us, one by one, into ten other houses. If the separation wasn't bad enough, then it got worse. They told us that we would have to sleep in the same bed as the local person! I asked Phoebe if it would just be with other women but she couldn't gaurentee anything. This was crossing the line in a big way. I was not about to crawl into bed with some stranger, by myself, with dozens of drunk men on the loose! We kept asking them and finally they agreed to let us have our own beds and after more begging they let us sleep in pairs. Crisis averted - sorta.

Now honestly, I don't think that they wanted to try anything funny. I think that maybe everyone was really excited to have some westerners in the village and so they each wanted to have one. But it was still way past all of our comfort levels.

Finally Kelsea and I were led away into the dark by one of the local women to her shed - I think it was her shed. I was aweful in every sense of the word. There was dirt and grime everywhere and great big logs stacked on one half. There were animal nests, gigantic webs, and spider eggs all over the place. The bed was okay: the comforter was nice but there was no mattress and just boards. There was no door on our room and I'm pretty sure that we were next to the outhouse/pig pen because it really really smelled. We dived into the bed, pulled the covers over our head, and didn't look out until morning. Our lady had guests over, and I'm pretty sure that she was bringing them into our room one by one so that they could have a look at the westerners in her house. I could here them sneaking around, whispering and giggling. Morning didn't come soon enough and I didn't sleep a wink. We thanked them with some gifts and then dashed of as soon as we could to meet with the rest of our group.

We had breakfast - rice congee, you don't want to know - and rehearted intestines for lunch. Then Mr. Pan, who was supposed to take us for a trek, ended up dragging us all over the village to visit four lushung makers. I swear, if I see another lushung... Finally, exhausted, we boarded the bus back to Kaili.

Now don't get me wrong, the locals were very sweet and nothing bad actually happened. We were just out of our element and frightened over the possibility of what could have happened. It was the culure clash of the century. I had a really good time with the locals and found it to be a very interesting and eye-opening experience. This cultural encounter is one that I will remember forever. Unfortunately, it was the poor planning on Inprepid's part that made the experience uncomfortable. We survived! And I got to see a side of China that few have the privlege to.