In China’s Lijiang, heritage tourism sells

By Ino Manalo
Philippine Daily Inquirer

THE LANDSCAPE is one of wonder. Arriving in Lijiang airport, you immediately sense that there is something different in the surrounding terrain. The mountains are snowcapped, even in summer, the vistas broader than one can imagine.

I’ve had the good fortune of visiting Lijiang in the western Chinese province of Yunnan on three occasions. My first trip was almost a decade ago, for a Unesco conference on heritage resources management. At the time, I had already been so impressed with the streets of ancient houses over which towered the magnificent peaks of the sacred Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.

Streets were bordered by canals in which sparkling rivulets constantly flowed. I later learned that some cafés would simply keep their bottles of soft drinks cool by dipping them in the icy streams! Every now and then, the canals would even be rerouted to wash streets.

Lijiang was accepted in the Unesco World Heritage List because it represented the coming together of many cultures such as Naxi, Han Chinese and Tibetan. These cultures lived in relative harmony, creating a vibrant community. This was clearly illustrated in a small village where the painted murals in the temples showed the influences of different aesthetic schools.

The amazing variety of shops sold all kinds of colorful fabrics, scarves, bags, handmade paper, tea, leather goods. I bought a finely embroidered jacket and wore it proudly to a conference reception. Everyone was too polite to tell me that my new purchase was really for women. After I found out the truth, I gave the jacket to my sister.

Excellent cuisine

Lijiang’s traditional cuisine is excellent. At breakfast one can gorge on little pancakes laced with green onions. Street peddlers will tempt you with trembling puddings steamed in large round metal trays. Usually, one sits on tiny stools before low tables to feast on a delicious array of wild mushrooms, crisp river fish and purple rice. A memorable meal is of chicken in a sweet orange sauce, eggplants coated in batter then fried, and farm fresh eggs scrambled with chives. When all else fails, there is the famous Yunnan ham!

From the city, there are trekking expeditions through the wild country which gave birth to the great riverine trinity: the Yangtze, Ganges and Mekong. The outlying villages were also a joy to visit. Their charm lay in their dreamy Brigadoon-like quality, which proved so potent that a member of our party was left behind by the tour bus in the little hamlet of Shuhe. I had to return and rescue him.

Years later, when I returned to Yunnan on my third visit, I was quite shocked to see how things had changed. Shuhe was no longer a sleepy town. Long ago, I had taken a picture of the stone bridge and the ragtag bunch of houses around it. Now, the bridge was still there but the houses had been reincarnated as chic galleries and cafés. There were landscaped parks and plush establishments serving French and Korean food. The wheat fields had disappeared. In their stead were residential estates and resorts.

Lijiang’s new urban sector had become bigger. Skyscrapers had sprouted everywhere. Yet, the old quarter had been preserved and, amazingly, also expanded.

Whole districts have sprung up with neo-antique structures that are a cross between the styles of the Manchu Empire and the “Empire Strikes Back.” All these aim to give the ever-growing number of tourists their heritage fix. When I first went to Lijiang, visitor numbers were less than a million. In 2009, that number is expected to reach six million.

Up in arms

Conservationists are up in arms. They note that the free interpretation of traditional architecture can be confusing. The issue of authenticity is raised. More importantly, there is much concern about the fact that the original Naxi residents of the old town are selling their houses to entrepreneurs and moving out.

At the rate things are going, Lijiang will lose the ethnic character and cultural mix that catapulted it to the Unesco list in the first place.

There are also complaints about the noise. The music blaring from a string of bars is disturbing homeowners as well as guests of the beautiful boutique inns the town is so famous for.

To be sure, very few are complaining about the great mass of tourists that descends on Lijiang every year. The huge numbers spell prosperity. The shops and restaurants are thriving.

Tourism channeled properly can actually help conserve heritage resources. How else can a troupe of traditional musicians be able to perform to packed audiences every night of the week?

The local government is able to generate so much from tax revenues that it can afford to restore many of the magnificent old residences of Lijiang. I had the chance to visit a few of these with two members of the Protection and Management Bureau: the dynamic Rose Ding Wen and her colleague, Leo. They showed me several elegant houses that were to be integrated into a special tour.

I suggested a creatively designed circuit which could even include performances and food. We also discussed how Lijiang could serve as a central venue for heritage management, conservation and museum workshops catering to people from the surrounding provinces.

The town’s tourism earnings also help support an interesting municipal showcase: the Lijiang Naxi Dongba Museum. Its exhibits are very sophisticated and well-organized, with a children’s section in the works.

Standard fee

Entering one of the town parks, I was a little irritated to be chased by a guard who demanded I pay a heritage tax. It turns out this was a standard fee based on a proposal made during the workshop I had attended almost 10 years earlier. The tax is a one-time payment that’s valid for an entire stay at all major tourist sites.

The remarkable influx of visitors has allowed for the blossoming of quaint inns that incorporate traditional architectural features. Everywhere one looks, there are splendidly carved entrances that open into tranquil plazas. Among the most tasteful places I saw was Zen Garden Hotel operated by Yumei He.

Zen Garden stands on a hill with views of the whole ancient district. The rooms are set around a central garden filled with cane chairs, ponds and flowering plants.

Meanwhile, a budget option is Crescent Moon Inn just a porcelain tile’s throw away from the main shopping street. Lodgers are calmed by a glimpse of lovingly tended plants in a quiet courtyard. My room featured paper lined windows and an immaculate modern bathroom.

The proprietors were so gracious that when I told them I was leaving on a short trip and would be absent for a few days, they wouldn’t let me pay until my return.

It turns out that Crescent Moon’s owners were from northern China. Such was the booming tourism business in Lijiang that it has attracted people from faraway places. More importantly, the establishments that were being set up always respected the heritage context.

Then too, the great demand for artisans who were skilled in traditional techniques helped keep the old construction methods alive, together with the industries that produced time-honored materials such as tiles and bricks.

Good idea?

Tourism brings many problems: pollution, noise, displacement, exploitation. There is even discussion on whether it is a good idea to place entire communities on the Unesco list.

But surely a balance can be found between commercial interests and the need to preserve heritage values as well as the tranquility and integrity of place.

The jury is still out with regard to Lijiang. What I do know is that there are nights when one can stand on a balcony relishing the amber glow that comes from tiers upon tiers of ancient houses. Then it does not really matter whether the surrounding structures’ connections to the past are the result of pretence or privilege.

Walking around, one is greeted by a vendor who offers pancakes so fresh and warm and yielding that for a moment cares are forgotten. There are no more discussions on the meanings of heritage, of development, of authenticity.

There are only pancakes.