History and Old Towns: Tengchong
There is a village near Tengchong that is famous for jade. It’s our intended destination for the day, but the jade shops are crowded with Chinese tourists. We gravitate into the old town, where the people live, instead.
There’s a woman washing her laundry in three successive cement vats built into the street, water flowing in one side from clearest to soapiest. A man sits outside in the afternoon sunlight building low chairs from slabs of wood.
This story is the continuation of a series that begins here.
Tengchong itself has no old town, we learn the next day. The area was bombed in the second world war, what is here called the Anti-Japanese War.
We read about this in a large and modern museum funded by the government. Yunnan, it transpires, was crucial in that war. The people sacrificed greatly, pleased to lay down their lives for their country.
Britain, an ally, is called cowardly often on the plaques for failing to defend Burma from the Japanese. The United States is hailed in glowing terms for its aid via the Flying Tigers’ supply routes over the Himalayas.
The museum has a section on Gaoligongshan, tomorrow’s destination. It talks about thick vegetation, year-round cold, and fighting referred to as “the battle in the clouds” — so that’s something to look forward to.
We walk around Tengchong, which is close enough to Burma that some of the men wear sarongs in the streets.
We eat hot pot and jiao zi and xiao leng bao. Jon practices asking age on dumpling sellers, middle-aged women who giggle and hold up fingers, not trusting his grasp of numbers.
Children play peek-a-boo with us down alleys after school, whispering to each other, giggling in their red-scarfed uniforms when we notice them looking.
We walk down a street of fruit sellers, cart after hand-pulled cart piled with apples, bananas, dragonfruit, the little oranges that taste like candy. Dusty pomelos sit piled high on a pallet in the street.
We rest. We eat. There’s a long hike tomorrow.
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