High Road to Qinghai 大路到青海: Henan: Men with Swords

Photo: As soon as Sander and I stepped off the bus in the Henan Mongol Autonomous County, we knew this was a place we would spend a lot of time. We visited Henan for 11 days.

China's march toward modernization has been relentless. As Guy Davenport states in his book Apples and Pears, "culture always suffers at the expense of progress." So it is in Amdo, eastern Greater Tibet, Qinghai Province. But in Henan we have finally leaped ahead of the major thrust of China's modernization efforts. Finally! It's been such a long hard journey getting here.

Photo: Mongols, motorcycles, and horses in the Henan Mongol Autonomous County, Qinghai Province (August, 2010).

Sander and I feel no need to venture deeper into Amdo, into Qinghai Province, than Henan. Ninety percent of the people in this county are Mongolian, although most of the people we see in town are Tibetan. Most of the Tibetans are still dressing in their traditional chubas and sashes adorned with what appears to be like pounds of silver, turquoise, and coral jewelry. They come from miles around, maybe hours away, to resupply their tents and yurts on the steppe where they tend herds of yak, dri, horses, and sheep. The horse, for the most part, has been abandoned for the motorcycle. Indeed, the town is abuzz with motorcycles and herders bundled to the hilt on these chilly Qinghai mornings. By mid-day, the chill gives way to the intense Amdo sun and the faces of the people are often those that have been hardened by living out in the weather every day, year after year. The weather of Qinghai is harsh. In contrast, the Tibetans and Mongolians are warm-hearted and open with most any form of generosity...even a smile. As Sander and I entered Henan, we smiled at each other. We knew that this was it! Henan is not a place where foreigners frequently travel. Certainly not with their kids. Currently, we are the only foreigners in town and Sander might be the only Western young adult they have ever seen. He gets lots of looks and plenty of attention. The Tibetan girls are gaga over him. Sometimes they huddle in groups giggling and smiling watching as he eats in a restaurant.

Photo: Sander with a friend in the Henan marketplace.

Meanwhile, we've been documenting everything as much as possible. But getting people to allow us to photograph them is not always easy. So we've been thinking of ways to develop relationships, especially since many portrait photographs or filmings represent the relationship between the subject and the one behind the lens.

To try to address this, we visited a school with the intention of helping out in an English or physical education class. But the school was all locked up (the Chinese often take July off). Another angle was needed. Given the resonableness of our living expenses (we're managing to get by on $10/day/person), I purchased Sander a chuba. It took several days to complete this transaction because most of the chubas were enormous. But finally, through a teenage girl who could speak Chinese, she was able to interpret what I said to her into Tibetan to get Sander what he wanted. Sander left the shop with a dashing summer chuba with colorful wool trim and a bright pink sash. If Sander got looks before this, he really got them now! In fact, he's achieved celebrity status in Henan. Large men in chubas and sashes make beads for Sander on the street to shake his hand! After the purchase, he kept the chuba on while we walked around town hoping that this might break down some barriers and get us invited into a yurt or tent. Our plan worked too well: we soon had two invitations. But I had to pretend not to understand their invitations because our way to their homes on the steppe would have been by motorcycle. Helmets are the rare exeption here and my heart raced at the thought of my son shooting across the grasslands (maybe an hour one-way) without a helmet on what surely would've been a wild ride even if the driver didn't show off. I feared the driver showing off. And then, were we to do this, I would be expected to engage in more than a little drinking in the tent or yurt of our host. Then there would be the ride home. Shit, I really worried about the ride home! Often I don't think about these things. I do things impulsively. But Daryl, my wife, has been a grounding force in my life. Neverthless, as much as I would like Sander to be exposed to life in a tent or yurt, it's not necessarry. What's neccessary is his safety. This has already been a successful journey. My job has not only been to teach Sander to travel on a shoestring and to expose him to this part of the world, but to get him home safely. I have to get him home safely. So we don't need to go deeper into Amdo and we do not need to visit the inside of a yurt or tent. As Sander will attest to, this journey has been wild and challenging. Personally, it's been as hard and challenging as any journey I've ever taken. Sander has not missed out on any adventure whatsoever. I'm proud of how Sander has stood up to the challenges. Neverthless, we both felt honored to get the invitations. Besides, just going out to eat is an adventure.

Photo: Just before we entered our hotel (in the background), another man on a motorcycle pulled up after spotting Sander and invited us to his home.

There is not a lot of variety to the food here. Most people eat various noodle dishes. Any dish with rice that we've had so far has been the exception. Actually, the rarity. We've been eatings lots of noodles; baozi, jiaozi, huntun (wonton), mutton, yak and beef. Our most unusual meal in Henan so far has been Mongolian firepot. Firepot sets on the table and is made of brass. It has a chimney in the center, a moat around the chimney, and a dung, coal, or sterno fire inside. Raw noodles, mushrooms, vegetables, and meat are placed in the broth, in the moat (sometimes the food is raw and placed on a platter and the dining individuals use chopsitcks to hold the food in the broth until it's cooked). The flavor changes, becomes more intense, deeper, with time and interactions. Mongolian firepot is an exciting way to eat, share the company of others, and pass the time. This is a fascinating landscape in which to pass the time, and the food is certainly reflected in the landscape.

Photo: Not only are tunics commonly worn, but sometimes short swords or long knives.

The land around Henan is an elevated steppe plateau. The land is so high that Sander and I spent our first two days suffering from altitude sickness. It was terrible. Pounding headaches, nauseousness, restlessness. But now we are fine. It just takes a lot of effort to do physical things. For instance, yesterday we hiked up the hill to the north of town to film and photograph the strand of prayer flags at the summit. The climb was steep and we had to stop for many breaks. It was exhausting! But we were stopping anyway because the flowers of this hilly grassland were blooming and absolutely gorgeous (I wished I could send bunches to my Daryl and Courtenay)! At the top of the hill the world just opened up: grass hills and rolling green flats to the horizon in all directions. Tents, yurts, and herds thinly spread across the landscape. The fluttering and vibrating prayer flags exploded in color beneath the intense sun, blue sky, and brightly-tinted clouds. I shot photos until my battery died. Then I replaced it and shot more. Sander filmed for 25 minutes. It was a successful shoot. Below, it looked like a funeral. When I saw a vulture, I hoped it wasn't a sky burial. It wasn't. But we gave them lots of distance and I wondered how Henan has changed over the past 50 years.

In only a few years, Henan may look like Tongren. Geographically, Chinese modernization is spreading out from her major cities in predictable ways along roads and rails. Fortunately for Sander, this was the perfect time to visit Henan. What he has been able to observe is precious, informative, revealing. It's an education everytime we step on the street. Henan streets belong to China's wild west.

Photo: While Sander was walking around Henan after purchasing a chuba (a traditional tunic of the Tibetans and worn by the Amdo Mongolians as well), he received invitations to a couple homes and the attention of many.

Henan has that rough-and-tumble steppe character I've so often read about. And yet this is a place of transition. Then again, the steppe has all too often been a place of transition. I've been wondering how this time and place might not be that different from a century and a half ago in what's now America's Midwest before the last of the Plains Indians were forced off their lands and onto reservations. Like this land shaped by relatively recent geologic orogenies, it is about to witness a cultural orogeny of sorts. A transformation from within and without. I wonder if progress will take place at the expense of culture. Yet many of these tent-living, weather hardened, hardy pastoralists look as their great great great grandfathers did a century and a half ago. But just when I think I've stepped back in time, a Tibetan in a chuba and sash pulls out a cell phone and makes a call. Could they have a flat screen TV in their tents? I have yet to own a cell phone or a flat screen TV.

Then again, each day I pass a Mongolian or Tibetan wearing a sword. I can't help but wonder how many communities today still have this: men with swords.