Thursday, February 14, 2013

Wolong Panda Preserve Day 1

About the Author:
Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. One of his specialization is giant panda bear tour.

Day 1




I thought I would go back in time a few years to the day I took our first volunteering tour group to the Wolong Panda Preserve.  Those of you readers with an interest in the Giant Pandas might find this trip log interesting.
Keith

Wolong Panda Preserve
Sichuan Province, China
Trip Log, Day one at the Wolong Panda Preserve
November, 2006

Today was our first full day at the Wolong Panda Preserve.  We arrived last night, after flying in to the airport at Chengdu.  We were met at the airport by our local guide, Jai,  and then together drove up to this mountain Panda Preserve in a comfortable passenger van.



The ride up the mountain took about 5 hours. The scenery, the people and the countryside are quite different from what we saw during our sight seeing time in Beijing. We all found the drive interesting.

As soon as we left Chengdu, which is a modern city with a great history, we came upon a large open air fruit and vegetable market.  I had the driver stop and we all made some last minute choices of fresh snacks.  The mandarin oranges were the best I had ever eaten.  I found some small finger sized bananas and bought them because they are the sweetest bananas grown.

Once back on the road, we quickly came to the mountain road that would carry us up to the Wolong Preserve.  The road follows the Pitaio River as it winds its way through the deep valley gorge that is the home of the Wolong Panda Preserve.  This countryside is characterized by extremely steep valley walls, cloaked in an ever present misty cloud cover and covered by dense forest growth.

After the intense new construction we have seen everywhere else we’ve been in China, the many old farm structures we now pass are a welcome change.  It feels as if we may find some glimpses of Old China here in this narrow mountain valley.

The people are no longer all dressed in suits and ties or cute short skirts and knee boots.  Traditional colorful mountain styles become common, especially for the women.  Bright blue, yellow and red colors predominate.  There is very little exposed skin in this traditional style of dress.  Large bulbous turbans sit atop every woman’s head.  Their skirts are really long flowing pants that drape over sturdy work shoes.

The faces of these local people are etched and wrinkled by days on end working their tiny valley vegetable fields.  The sun in this mountain region is intense and the UV rays have taken their toll on most of the faces I see.  Gone are the ageless, unlined faces of the Chinese City folk.  These mountain people carry their history on their faces and in their bearing.

I look at all the construction sites we pass with an interest that comes from my past career.  Even here, high the mountains the construction workers seem peculiarly over-dressed.  I seldom see workers wearing what I consider to be the traditional construction site uniform.  That is to say blue denim pants and t-shirts or some type of rugged long sleeve shirt.  Instead they are dressed in dress slacks and jackets, sometimes I spot someone wearing a tie as well.  Their dress may not be familiar, but the quality of work seems equal to anything I’ve seen in the USA.

They are a gentle, but proud people here in this wild mountain valley.  Referred to by the City Chinese I have met as the “local peasants”,over the next several days the local people around the Wolong Preserve prove to be both friendly and helpful to me.  Shy at first, they warm quickly to my quiet approaches to get to know them better.

Most of these local people are camera shy.  Each time I aim a camera at a single individual or at a small group of these local people they smile and shake their heads no.  Their actions clearly ask me to not take their photo.  I always honor their request for privacy.  I find that taking photos of their children is different and very acceptable!

Without exception every parent and grandparent I meet is beamingly proud of his or her grandchild.  Of course I’m the same and this is a connection that easily crosses the centuries of language and culture that separate us.  Every time I point my camera at a grandchild, the accompanying grandparent flashes a big smile and pushes the kid in the direction of my camera.  I build some instant friendships by snapping photos of chubby smiling children.  I wish I had brought along a portable printer so that I could share the images with these proud grandparents who probably don’t own a camera nor even have a photo of their grandchild.

When we arrived at the Panda Inn last night it was early evening, about 6:00 PM.  We arrived just in time for dinner.  Was I ever surprised when I first entered my room to find the windows wide open and a bitingly cold wind blowing the drapes wildly about.  The temperature inside my room was probably 33 degrees F.  I quickly closed the windows, pulled the drapes and turned the heater on high to let the room warm up while I ate dinner.

I later learned that the local people believe you must keep the doors and windows open in your home to allow the bad air and spirits to leave.  At first this doesn’t make much sense.  After all they live in a cold, windy environment and most people would want to maintain their homes at a warmer temperature than what is outside.

After studying the design and construction of the old local houses I think I now understand the origin of this strong cultural belief.  This custom is so ingrained in the minds of the local people, that every morning at breakfast I would enter the dining room to find the double doors that face the Panda Garden, wide open to the cold morning air.  Before sitting down for breakfast each day, I would close these doors to block out the cold wind.

This uncomfortable custom grew out of the harsh style of living that has developed here in the high mountain valleys.  The local people are farmers.  They live off the land.  Each person has some small plots of land on which they grow corn, cabbage and some root plants.  Many of these plots are tiny and provide growing area for only a few struggling vegetable plants.  Each plant is lovingly cultivated from a tiny seed, planted in sparse soil that is enriched by fertilizer made from human and animal waste.

The homes are mostly all built on the steep sides of the valley in areas too steep for the tiny garden plots to take root.  Every inch of cultivatable soil is jealously preserved for planting. 

The typical homes are an interesting three story structure.  The lowest level is beneath the living area.  Down in what we would think of as the basement is an area where toilet waste is deposited from the living area above.  This is not the most pleasant subject to dwell on, but it is the origin of the strong local belief that you must keep your home open to allow the bad spirits to escape.  This lowest area is also where the livestock is housed on cold stormy nights.  Pigs and goats cannot survive in the cold winter environment without some shelter.  So this lowest level is usually fenced to keep the livestock in place.

In reality the open air flow through the living area is necessary to carry off the offensive odors from below.  The second level of these traditional homes is the living area.  Here is where the family eats and sleeps.   The living areas are sparsely furnished.  These days many homes have TV sets to receive the one local station whose beams find their way into the narrow valley. 

The third level of this unique home style is usually an open air attic loft used to dry corn and other vegetables.  When the corn is harvested, it is carefully stacked in the drying room on the third level of these traditional homes.  There the cold wind dehydrates the vegetables rapidly without mold and mildew forming.

And that’s why my hotel room was 33 degrees when I arrived.  I made sure to let the room maid know that I didn’t want my window open during the day.  In November the air may feel warm while you’re in the sunshine, but in the shade the air is still cold, especially for a Southern California guy who enjoys things on the warm side.

After breakfast this morning we drove up the mountain to a narrow valley that branches off to the east.  There is a paved access road that ends at a narrow, but sturdy wood and concrete bridge.  We left our driver by the road and set off up a well groomed hiking trail.  Jai (our Chinese guide) leads the way and agrees to stay with the quick walkers. 

I like to take my time and so I bring up the rear of our small hiking party.  Stopping to photograph mushrooms, ferns and spiders I quickly fall behind the group.  When I catch up with everyone about 15 minutes later, they are gathered at a section of the trail where a recent rock slide has covered the trail.  I begin to cross the slide area, but it is slippery and there is some danger of another rock fall.  We have a quick meeting and agree that we’ll abort the hike and instead take a walk along the valley road.

We have all wanted to stop and investigate the local villages at a closer perspective than that allowed as we drive by.  Our driver takes us to the edge of a village and we begin our downhill walk along the highway.

Local people are gathered outside some of the homes, working on traditional tasks that are time consuming and mind numbing, as we gape at the busy women from the roadway. We see woman doing laundry, tending garden plots and watching over small children.  The men are mostly involved in building projects or just sit and watch the woman work.  I soon notice that every woman carries a small ball of grey yarn and constantly knits funny socks when not doing anything else. 

Jai helps us talk to the local people.  She is in front, while I still tag along at the rear of the group.  The photo opportunities demand too much time.  I could take photos in this valley for month’s on end without getting bored.  I use my electronic translator to communicate with the local people.  It works okay with the younger people who seem to be better educated.  The older people cannot read the text from my translation device.  This is the only place in China where I haven’t found it relatively easy to communicate this way.

We use up the morning walking, talking and studying the local villages.  Around 11:00 or 11:30 AM we end up at the Wolong Panda Museum.  This interesting museum has mounted wildlife from the region.  It is a real treasure trove of information about the surrounding forests.  This area is still primarily a Chinese tourist destination, so most of the signs are only in Chinese and we must get Jai to translate every one.

When we finish at the museum, we make a quick stop at the local Post office to buy Chinese stamps and then head downhill to the Panda Inn for lunch.  Lunch is another multi course family style feast that leaves all of us grumbling about eating too much. 

After lunch we finally enter the Panda Garden for our first walk through of the heart of the Wolong Panda Preserve.  We are here this afternoon to sign up for our volunteer work experience.  There is paperwork to complete and a short introductory lesson by Cindy Lo, that explains the rules to us.  She speaks excellent, unaccented English and heads up what is known as the Panda Club.  The Club is the department of the Wolong Preserve that is responsible for fund raising.

Cindy offers us hot tea and sits with us to explain the few rules that we will work under.  Number one rule is to always obey our “master” so that we don’t get into dangerous situations by accident.  Everything else is very basic.  We are given brown coveralls that will be our work uniform and entry pass to the Panda Garden.  We will wear these at all times while working.  The coverall allows all the workers to quickly identify volunteers so they know we are allowed into the areas we will be working in.

Daily busloads of tourists disgorge from many buses and race through the Panda Garden on their one or two hour tour of the preserve.  They then return to the bus and continue up the mountain on their way to another quick photo opportunity.  These tourists (especially the Chinese) try to get into all of the “off limits” areas, to see the protected baby pandas and anything else that might be going on that the preserve doesn’t want the public to have access to.  Our coveralls open the doors to most of these areas.  The exception is the sterile nursery area.

Once we’ve all signed our work agreements, Cindy passes out the coveralls and we are free to explore the Panda Garden for the remainder of the afternoon.  Several of the group set off to bargain for souvenirs out in front of the hotel with the local woman who operate small vendor stands along the highway.  I stayed behind at the Panda Garden and just watched pandas.

Dinner was another big feast.  Each meal is a small adventure all its own.  Jai (pronounced Jou as in ouch) is doing an excellent job of ordering for us.  She mixes the dishes well and quickly learned our likes and dislikes.  I have a special request in for the whole sweet and sour fish.  It is a pretty sight and very tasty.  I just wish there were a few less bones.

We’re all tired and everyone heads to their rooms early to read or sleep.  I go out to the road in front of the Panda Inn and begin planning my leopard search that will take place one night soon.

The night air is very cold.  Because of the ever present cloud cover there is not a star in sight.  I walk down the road to get away from the hotel lights.  As the lights recede behind me, the road becomes nearly invisible.  The forest on the sides of the road disappears and is just a dark dense black shadow.  I’m not dressed for the cold, so shivering slightly I walk back to the Panda Inn and welcoming glow of its many lights.

Today was a very satisfying day.  I sit at the writing desk in my room and make some notes.  I am content and really happy about the day that is behind me now.  I know that tomorrow will be a special experience.  I couldn’t ask for anything more from this vacation.  It is all I hoped for, so far, and much more.

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