Jan. 26, 2006
By Rui Xia
KUNMING, China - As the road descends from the mountain, winding its way through cliffs and pine trees, the crater and the turquoise Lugu Lake in its center come into view. The numerous trucks roaming the bumpy road, raising clouds of dust, somewhat disturb the serene atmosphere.
This writer debarked near Lige, formerly a small Mousu minority village ideally located on a small peninsula, accompanied by a Chinese tourist. She complains about the bad roads, as well as the lack of authenticity of the villages. Like many others, she has come to see the local Mousu people, a small matriarchal group described in ads as "the living fossil[s] of human society". A new road is being built down the peninsula, and a few bulldozers level the ground on the shore. The old houses were all demolished, and rebuilt about 200 meters from the lake.
"We relocated the people to protect the lake's ecosystem," explained Yu Lijun, head of the lake-area administration office. "We also try to protect the Mousu cultural heritage. Notice how we rebuilt the farmhouses in the old style. We don't allow the use of concrete here." A rumor repeated to me by several local residents and government sources, however, says the vacated coastal strip is to be given to a Shanghai developer who intends to build a five-star hotel on the site.
A local woman carrying rubble in a basket on her back from the construction site, questioned about the rumors, said she didn't know. She and her neighbors were ordered to leave, but received no explanation about what would be built instead of their old family houses. "They said we were polluting the lake, but we have been living here always," she protested.
Yu insisted the government's intention is only to help the local people. "The scenery of the lake and the Mousu culture are both very attractive for tourists," he said. "Once more tourists come, the Mousu will benefit greatly."
Lugu Lake and its village are examples of a growing phenomenon in China's mountainous Yunnan province: "minority tourism".
The big ethnic puzzle
Yunnan, in southwestern China, has historically been one of the poorest, most backward provinces in the country. Ever since the early 1990s, however, the provincial government discovered what is now becoming a main source of income for the area - tourism.
The beautiful landscape of this mountainous region is the province's biggest asset, but there is another. Twenty-five of the 55 recognized minority groups in China can be found in Yunnan, creating a stunning profusion of customs, languages and dress. From the Thai-related Dai tribe in the south to Kamba Tibetans in the northwest, the 25 minorities are divided into hundreds of distinguishable subgroups numbering from a few thousand to several million and inhabiting all the province's areas. This richness of cultures and costumes is attracting growing attention from both international and domestic travelers.
"Ethnic tourism" is defined by scholars as a visit to ethnic groups with cultures different from that of the majority in a certain country or region. Other Asian countries long ago discovered the gold mine this kind of tourism can be, boasting an ever-growing flow of visitors to once remote and isolated groups such as the "long-neck" tribes in Thailand, or the Ifugao in the Philippines. Yunnan is now following the same path. Colorful posters in China's big cities show attractive minority people wearing their traditional costumes (or a modern rendition of these costumes), and splashy ads lure urban Chinese to visit their exotic and primitive lands.
As in the case of Southeast Asia, making the people themselves a tourist attraction can cause many unexpected complications. Field research in different parts of Yunnan has shown fast commercialization of the culture, as well as a false representation of the minority culture, and disrespect for their traditional way of life. There is a tendency to present the minorities as more exotic, romantic and primitive than they really are, researchers argue.
The Mousu people of Lugu Lake may have become the most recent example. This obscure and mysterious society has drawn much attention to itself in recent years, as it is claimed to be one of the world's last matriarchal societies. Traditionally, Mousu couples didn't get married, but maintained an arrangement known as "walking marriage", in which the man goes to visit his lover at night, but continues to live under his mother's roof. This unique way of life, worthy of thorough research, was severely misunderstood, and led many Chinese tourists to see the lake area as a "girls' kingdom", full of attractive free-loving women, which was far from the true, highly conservative nature of Mousu society. But the perception, false though it was, still created a widespread phenomenon of prostitution in the lake area.
South of Lugu Lake, the prefectural capital Lijiang has become one of the hot spots of tourism in China, receiving more than 3 million visitors annually. The tourism boom in Lijiang started with another boom. In 1996, an earthquake hit the area, destroying much of the then-remote town, but also drawing the world's attention to Lijiang and its indigenous Naxi people. In 1997 the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) put Lijiang on its list of world cultural heritage sites, and the tourism industry has grown in leaps and bounds ever since.
"The Naxi people have benefited a lot from tourism," said a local resident, herself involved in the industry. "The unemployment rate has dropped down to zero and visitors bring much-needed income to this previously poor area. I think Naxi culture has benefited as well. There is huge international interest in this ancient society, with numerous research projects being conducted in recent years. This has led many young Naxi to rediscover their old culture.
"Back in 1995, there was almost no interest in the old ways, but now you see people studying Dongba [the old pictograph script of the Naxi] and many are going back to old traditions." She admitted, though, that this interest is mainly profit-driven. "To a large extent, Naxi culture became a commodity and is offered for sale in Lijiang, but there is also a lot of genuine interest."
Beggars and the environment
One of the questions that have to be asked when a poor minority area develops so fast is, who are the main beneficiaries? In the case of Lijiang, it seems the Naxi and other minorities have indeed gained some economic benefits and improved their previously very low standard of living; but the big winners, as so often happens in China, are outsiders.
All the big hotels and tourist facilities in town are owned by investors from eastern China, Hong Kong and Taiwan, while the Naxi and other minorities are mainly employed in low-paying jobs. The same is true for the southern county of Xishuangbana, where the Dai people perform festival dances for tourists staying in big foreign-owned hotels. In the provincial capital Kunming, it seems as if the minorities' participation in the local economy comes mainly in the form of women selling handicrafts on the sidewalks outside big hotels and coffee shops, or just sending their children to beg.
Begging is a problem often related to minority tourism, and is becoming more and more evident in Yunnan. Along the shore of Lugu Lake, children dressed in rags chase tourists, calling, "Aunt, uncle, give me an apple."
"They know there is money in tourism," said a restaurant owner from Luoshui village, "but they are not sure how to get this money." The solution, he said, should be found in government incentives and education programs to help youths from the villages integrate better into the industry and get their fair share of the profits.
Yunnan is famous for more than just curious ethnic groups. The province, known in Chinese history as "the kingdom of flowers", is celebrated for its diverse landscape and many microclimates and ecosystems. Environmentalists in particular consider northwestern Yunnan an "ecological hot spot" worthy of intense protection. In 2003 UNESCO declared most of the area between Lijiang and the Tibetan border a world natural heritage site known as "the three parallel rivers park".
Many international non-governmental organizations are working on environmental protection projects there, as well as in other parts of Yunnan. They see the hordes of tourists as a threat to this unique environment and warn that the current rate of economic growth is unsustainable. Organizations such as US-based The Nature Conservancy (TNC) are trying to develop alternatives to mass tourism, in the form of more environmentally and culturally sensitive ecotourism activities. This trend turns against the tide of mass tourism, and the hunger of local government and local communities seeking quick gains by accommodating as many tourists as possible, but it is a growing niche.
Lily Zhang is a young woman of the Naxi minority, trained by TNC to be a tour guide in Lashi Hai, a protected area for migratory birds near Lijiang. "Visitors who come here are mainly individual travelers, and almost all of them are westerners," she said. "They are people interested in seeing the minority culture and helping the local economy. The profits from these tours go directly to the villagers, not to any big company, and more tourists are now interested in making this contribution."
With growing awareness in Beijing of the need for sustainable development, people working on conservation in Yunnan are hoping the ecotourism trend will grow to draw more Chinese visitors, as well as government support. If in the early '90s most visitors to Yunnan were Westerners, the economic development and lifting of travel restrictions for Chinese citizens has resulted in more and more urban Chinese exploring their homeland, and Yunnan has become one of their favorite destinations. According to China's statistics bureau, almost 90% of the visitors to the province in 2004 were domestic tourists, and the industry is cut to their size, following the average urban-traveler preferences.
China's minority groups have always been a source of curiosity to the Han majority. Throughout the long history of the Middle Kingdom, these people were perceived as exotic barbarians to be contained or feared. Though today almost none of Yunnan's minorities (save perhaps Tibetans) are showing any aspiration for independence, the old image prevails, and the visitor from Shanghai or Zhejiang is looking for primitive exotic people selling pretty embroideries and performing dances. In commercialized tourist zones such as Lijiang and its neighbors Dali and Zhongdian, this is exactly what he'll get, sometimes at the expense of real development and progress offered to the minorities themselves.
The tensions are not just between Han and non-Han. The many ethnic groups of Yunnan are different in almost every aspect of their lives, and were often involved in conflicts throughout the province's turbulent history. The attention some of these groups have been getting has brought some old enmities back to the surface. While the Dai of Xishuangbana hold daily water-splashing festivals for visitors, other ethnic groups in the south stay hidden in their forest havens, making hardly any contact with the outside world.
While the Naxi and Bai cultures of Lijiang and Dali are known throughout the world, their neighboring Yi minority, the largest ethnic group in Yunnan and once the rulers of the whole southwest, are almost completely ignored. The Yi autonomous counties in Yunnan and Sichuan count among the poorest in China. Many Naxi consider the Yi to be "troublemakers", while the Yi scorn the Naxi, who they say are "losing their culture and becoming just like the Chinese".
The Mousu in Lugu are getting intense and often negative attention, but their close relations, the Pumi, are little known. This uneven development and profit share in a province where almost 50% of the population is non-Han can threaten social stability in Yunnan and lead to estrangement from Chinese society of some of the more marginalized minority groups, researchers warn.
Ecotourism as a solution
Ecotourism can be the answer. Mu Shangxun is another Naxi tour guide in Lijiang. He takes small groups of mainly European travelers for hikes into remote minority villages where they stay with local families and experience the culture first-hand.
"In Lijiang," Mu told me over tea in the overcrowded "Naxi corridor" in town, "there is no real experience for tourists anymore. It's all just shops and commodities. It is very disappointing for visitors from Europe looking for encounters with ancient cultures. We take them to the villages, and there they feel the experience is real."
Ecotourism "is definitely a growing niche in the market", said a French tour operator who works with Mu. "Mass tourism and luxury hotels aren't going to disappear, but alongside the more traditional tourism activities of shopping and sightseeing, there is a growing search for more unique experiences. People in Europe want to travel to places that are intact, and we'll see this trend spreading in coming years.
"In my opinion, Yunnan has got much to offer for the ecotourism market, and the provincial government should take that into consideration. They can benefit a lot [from] this market; I believe the trend will catch up with Chinese tourists as well."
Shaxi as a test case
A fine example of such enterprises is the Shaxi Rehabilitation Project, initiated by Dr Jacques Feiner of the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology. Shaxi is a small market town on the old tea-and-horse trade route connecting China to Tibet.
A bit out of the way, between the booming towns of Dali and Lijiang, this mainly Bai-populated valley has received very little attention so far. In 2001, after a visit to the area, Feiner initiated a project, with Swiss funding, to restore some buildings and temples at the old marketplace of Shaxi. After the town was listed among the 100 most endangered sites for the World Monuments Fund (WMF), additional funding was raised and an overall plan was formulated for the development of the valley for tourism, with strong emphasis on cultural conservation and endogenous growth.
"When I first told my guides in China that the dilapidated market square of Sideng was their main [site with tourist] potential they did not believe it. Later, after Shaxi had been selected for the WMF List of the 100 most endangered sites, the attitude of the local government reversed completely to the other extreme. At that time, they virtually believed that they could build a second Lijiang in a two years' time. Despite us telling the government from the start that this was neither possible nor desirable, their dreams were 'flying high' and the deception was therefore even stronger when they realized that their plans were in fact not possible in Shaxi and neither were the enormous profits," Feiner said.
Quite different from the fashion of Chinese government officials, the project people are preaching slow development without excessive commercialization, or what Feiner calls "Lijiangization" of the Shaxi Valley.
"Lijiang is not a good example for us," said Huang Yinwu, an architect and the project manager onsite in Shaxi. "Naxi culture is sold to tourists in Lijiang like in a big shopping mall. Development there isn't sustainable. If the tourism boom declines, there will be nothing left of the culture."
In Shaxi, he explained, tourism isn't yet established, and it remains uncertain how it is going to develop. There is no hotel in town, only a few family guesthouses.
"We are in discussion with suitable investors for a hotel project," said Feiner. "I put here the emphasis on 'suitable investor' because this investor should also be in charge of running the hotel and have relevant experience in the region. The goal is to create an ambiance hotel with not too many rooms, built for a selected class of tourists, and not a place for mass tourism. We are aiming at mainly cultural and individual or small-group tourism. We set as a target figure 1-1.5% of the cumulated tourist figures of Dali and Lijiang, which would thus be between 80,000 and 120,000 tourists a year. Seen within the dynamics of tourism in the region, this is very realistic."
On the monthly market day in Shaxi, as farmers from the nearby villages streamed into town for their Spring Festival shopping, poverty was very evident in the villages and the inadequate, dusty roads between them. Most of the people I asked either did not know about the project or were skeptical about the prospect of tourism ever actually coming to Shaxi.
One enthusiastic supporter was a Mr Zao, the owner of a guesthouse. "It can help us so much. It can create jobs for young people so they don't have to leave and look for jobs in the city. I hope we can receive tourists, and still keep our way of life. I don't want to see the valley changing too much."
There is no shortage of good intentions in the Shaxi project. Both Feiner and Huang talk about a "comprehensive program of sustainable development", "commercialization without over-commercialization", and "participation of local people". Their project, which now enjoys funding of some US$1.5 million from different organizations and the Yunnan government, offers loans to local residents who wish to open businesses in town.
"We want to develop high-quality tourism here, with business activity dominated by the local Bai people. This is our wish for the valley, but it's really in the hands of local people and the county's government. We can only offer support," Huang summed up. When I asked what he thought Shaxi will look like 10 years from now, he admitted with a sigh, "It will probably be just like Lijiang."
As Yunnan discovers the value of its minority people as a tourist attraction, tourist numbers are growing annually. Much is changing in the province; living standards in many minority areas are rising, whereas the ancient and inimitable cultures are undergoing rapid transformation, sometimes beyond recognition. More tourists will arrive in the coming years, and more ethnic groups will probably decide to offer their culture on the free market. Whether the future of tourism in Yunnan will look like Lugu Lake, or more like Shaxi, is mostly in the hands of foreign and Chinese tour operators, and largely depends on trends in international tourism.
Rui Xia is a Western teacher and freelance writer living in China. Rui Xia is her unofficial Chinese name.
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