Lugu Hu (Lake) is probably the most remote lake I've washed my cloths in. It's 8 hours of "Anxious Torturous Drive" (according to the road signs) from Lijiang (210 km) in Yunnan province. I came here to find the last practicing matriarchal society in the world.
I'm hoping to meet some cool gals, but at the end I only meet guys. One of the guys offers me a marriage. Got to be careful though. Mosuo marriage is not quite marriage. Mosuo gals allegedly don't care about diamond rings and weddings. They spend their nights with their "husbands", but in the morning the husbands go back home to mommy, hence the term "walking marriage".
While couples can spend years in monogamous relationship, no one seeks financial responsibility from the father. The women never leave their parent's homes, and raise the children independently. They can afford it, because only women are allowed to inherit, and the family is expected to help.
At the end, the guys have to help raising their sister's kids, so it is kind of hard to avoid responsibility. I think these gals have nailed it. Any ways, I kindly refuse to be married that way for cultural differences, but frankly because he is not very hot at all.
I spent one whole day by the lake. I wash my cloths with the local ladies, but when they go topless to wash their hair, I retreat to the shadow of a tree and sleep for the rest of the afternoon. Oh, what a wonderful nap that was. Lugu Hu is such and idyllic place - quiet, pretty, clean. The shores of the lake are rimmed by tiny water lilies. A fishing boat makes a slow zip across in the late afternoon. No one seems to be in a hurry.
On day two Penny (an Australian gal I met on the TLG trek) and I go round the lake to several other villages. It is all geared for tourists, but there aren't very many of them, so we enjoy the walk, although climbing over those hills leaves us breathless. It is quite high up here.
In the evening we go to see the only show in town - the singing and dancing by Mosuo people. It is the epiphany of a fake tourist attraction, but there is nothing else to do, so... It turns out to be most entertaining. After the official performance, the Mosuo invite the Han tourist to a sing off. The two groups face each other standing in the middle of the large inside yard and the sing of begins. The Han's are doing quite well under the passionate leadership of an energetic lady in a short hair and orange top. Eventually, they run out of songs, so the group decides to sing the A-B-C-D-E-F-G song. The Mosuo response comes swiftly - "Happy Birthday to you". We are dying laughing.
The owner of the establishment sends a free beer to our table, so eventually we join him for some good hands-waiving conversation, sunflower seeds and shots of beer. AJ is 35-year old han Chinese. That's as far as our linguistic abilities take us. The night extends into some more beer drinking. AJ's Mosuo friend and employee joins us when the bar is completely shut down.
Eventually we move outside for a BBQ of pork liver, brain, and I don't want to know what else. This is a fine conclusion of our culinary explorations. We had tried stir fried frogs and water lilies earlier. Upon finishing a second bottle of the local brandy we most charmingly excuse ourselves and stroll in straight-ish line to our guest house.
The trip back to Lijiang is most anxious and torturous the following day.
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