Wednesday August 12, 2009
Rise of the phoenix
ZIYING'S BRUSH
Fenghuang is a bustling town of Miao traders and unique riverside wooden architecture.
ABOUT 250km south of Zhangjiajie is a riverside settlement in the Xiangxi Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture that some consider the most beautiful in China.
In all honesty I can’t say Fenghuang (Phoenix) is the most picturesque settlement I have seen in China but it certainly is colourful as it is inhabited mostly by the Miao which, with a population of more than nine million spread across several provinces, is one of the country’s largest minorities.
All kinds of everything: Vendors line the city wall with a dizzying selection of trinkets, weavings and handicraft. Situated on the Tuojiang (Tuo River) in the fringes of western Hunan (Xiangxi) just across the border from remote Guizhou province, Fenghuang had its beginnings 13 centuries ago as a Tang dynasty garrison.
An apt if somewhat unimaginative starting point for a day-long walk around Fenghuang’s warren of bustling lanes and alleyways is the city square, dominated by what else but a phoenix sculpture right in the middle.
Our guide’s explanation of how the town got its name – something about a phoenix landing on a nearby hill – was lost on me as several Miao women in oversized cloth turbans, blue jackets and black trousers with embroidered trims doggedly tried to sell us flower garlands.
I wandered down a bustling lane and headed towards the river. Hanging outside the first shops were strings of pale yellow dried gourds for storing wine or water. Nearby, a liquor merchant sold local rice wine in sections of green bamboo.
Another outlet displayed flat dried ducks and packs of coagulated duck (and pig) blood, but it was the row of flattened cured pigs’ faces dangling over the neighbouring store-front that really grabbed my attention.
Miao women in distinctive blue and black costumes with embroidered trims are an integral part of Fenghuang. With eyes shut and jaws locked in a perpetual grin (or grimace), I thought they were a bizarre advertisement for the shop’s stacks of smoked “Hunan ham”, only to find out later that sliced de-boned pig’s cheeks are a specialty of the region.
Numerous shops offered piles of gleaming wheat-coloured ginger and sesame taffy and bags of pale green dried kiwi fruit which is native to China. An itinerant vendor was frying Miao-style rice pancakes flavoured with pickles, while another hawked pineapple-yellow wild honeycombs on a bamboo tray.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, a skilled weaver (who said she was Tujia ) worked on a piece in reverse, the actual pattern becoming discernible only when the weaving is finished and turned right side up.
Towards the river rows of Miao women in their distinctive blue jackets and black pants lined the city wall with large trays of colourful handicrafts, mostly embroidered purses, woven bags and belts, silver jewellery and a seemingly endless array of trinkets, while shops proffered ethnic shirts and blouses of rough cotton, and everything from handmade knives to painted canvas shoes.
Suddenly a folk-song wafted over the city wall, and I followed it to the river; there, a girl dressed in Miao finery, her head crowned with the elaborate silver headdress for which her people are famous, stood singing on a bamboo raft.
A high point of any visit to Fenghuang is a boat-ride on the Tuojiang, where weathered wooden houses supported by thick logs are cantilevered over the river bank.
The river was quiet and placid, a pleasant interlude from the sensory overload of exotic goods, shops and vendors in the old city. We sailed past groups of women doing their laundry on the water’s edge, beating their clothes with wooden paddles in age-old fashion.
Wooden houses project over the Tuo River that runs through Fenghuang’s old city. A flock of white ducks preened themselves on a narrow strip next to a stone embankment; further on a cluster of artists were busy sketching. As we passed under a large covered bridge hung with red lanterns, a drum sounded and a group of Miao girls in a roofed boat burst into a folk-song, their voices ringing out over the water.
Later that evening, I went back to the river to enjoy its much-talked about night views. As in the day time, there were large crowds and a sprinkling of minorities in native costume, presumably for the benefit of tourists.
Young children no more than eight or nine years of age aggressively hawked paper lotus lanterns for between 2 and 5 yuan (RM1 and RM2.50) apiece to be lit and set afloat on the river with a wish or a prayer. They begged, cajoled and hung on to their “targets” with a persistence that belied their age.
The night views were unfortunately less than inspiring. A jarring neon nightclub sign dominated the buildings across the river and disco music throbbed in the background.
Besides its vibrant street life, Fenghuang also has its share of ancestral halls and historic houses. Among them is the home of Xiong Xiling, educator, philanthropist and first prime minister of China in the early 20th century. His father was Han and mother Miao, which perhaps exemplifies the cultural fusion that has enriched Fenghuang’s streets and given the city its animated personality.
Ziying can be reached at ziyingster@gmail.com.
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