The Dragons Backbone by Caroline Major

Two hours north-west of pretty Guilin, after a gentle climb up the river bank and into the mountains, waits the dragon. His arched back hewn from the ridge of a mountain centuries ago by the Zhuang and Yao peoples forms the backbone of their community. His skin changes chameleon-like with the seasons; granny apple green as the rice ripens and is harvested and then a reflective coppery brown when the terraces lie fallow. His scales are the silver, grey and green stones winding around his flanks forming the well trodden pathways of the colourful minority group. He is more than 650 years old, his lower haunches resting at 300 metres above sea level with his nostrils flaring at 1100 metres.

Ping An, the main village tending the dragon, is a delightfully traditional Zhuang community. A population stable for centuries, they welcome ramblers to put on hiking boots and roam about. From the car-park half way up the mountain, it’s a fifteen minute walk up a pretty stone path lined with Zhuang touts and attractions. A quad of women with jet black hair wrapped into tight coils offer to unravel their tresses and revel proud moments of their child-bearing history. Behind them, the terraced mountains and passing clouds form an impressive backdrop. Each child entitles her to an uncut length of eighteen year old human hair wrapped into their coiffure; the bigger the hair, the more fertile the woman. Beyond, on the wooden bridge marking the gateway to the village, others embroider shoes and purses. The day-tripping shoppers snap them up in the picturesque mall of global tourism. Their men, hoisting sedan chairs, carry indolent tourists high on their shoulders past the ten kwai side-show attractions. It’s a majestic entrance to the rolling splendour of the Dragons Backbone. Outside all of that, Ping An is a perfect retreat for a few days enjoying lifes’ simple pleasures; relaxing in the sun, eating and taking in the view.

In the village, wooden houses cling the side of the ravine. Connected by networks of stone paths to neighbouring homes and out to the rice terraces, a walk about here is pretty and an immersion in another time. There are no wheels in this village, just your feet. The hand cut stone paths make tiny bridges across little waterfalls and bite into the sometimes steep slops of the 2800 meter mountain. Perched at 800metres, the multi-story houses of Ping An are tucked onto stone platforms hewn from her flanks. The village is a marvellous place to base yourself for a few days spent exploring the trails that cross the mountain connecting several villages of Zhuang and Yao people.

From Ping An village it’s possible to walk a variation of circuits skirting the rice terraces and the vegetable gardens. You’ll see the villagers cultivating corn, sweet potato, chilli and capsicum, cucumber and tomato. Beyond that there’s a five hour walk to the top of the mountain and back, passing splendid alpine scenery. To walk to Zhong Liu Village is a two hour trek around the mountain. Behind the first viewpoint, pass by the lake and fork right through the forest canopy to emerge two hours later in a bamboo forest in front of an intimidating stack of rice terraces. If you continue walking for another hour, Darzai is a more lively village for a good lunch or an overnight stop. In June, the days are long and the walks rewarding. The forested areas of the mountain are home to a plethora of fungi and pretty flowers. Big, furry, long legged spiders with white abdomens amble across the paths and there are an abundance of birds to eat them. The sound of water is either the crashing of a waterfall, or the pleasant trickle of rice irrigation. On some passes you’ll come eye to eye with a wizened old water buffalo or rub shoulders with a produce-laden farmer.

In the evenings, spending time with your host family is a great way to learn about their culture. They may treat you to a welcoming song over cups of rice wine or ask you to dine with them. All Zhuang learn to sing almost before they can speak and it is unheard of for them to be out of tune. The songs are personal and often a comment on your character or on your journey. The meals are based on vegetables, tofu, chicken and pork. Egg stir-fried with greens, eggplants stuffed with minced meat and smoked pork with bamboo were tasty alternatives to hot-pots. In the mornings, good toast and pancakes a substitute for noodles soups and fried ham and eggs.

The majority of rooms in the village have views over the terraces. If the first you look at doesn’t, look around, as all the guest houses offer rooms with splendid views. Some have balconies from the rooms and others sun-decks positioned for morning or afternoon rays. Many villagers have lived on the Dragons Backbone for centuries and have stories to tell if language isn’t a barrier. Yebing of the New Li Qing Guesthouse speaks a passable English and has charm to boot. His family moved to Ping An from Tatung one hundred and fifty years ago where they had lived for the previous eight hundred.

The terraces themselves are awesome. Like Escheresque layer cakes, terraces spill onto terraces, while others spiral snail-like into towers topped with a free floating pool. When fallow they act as a giant mirror for the constant circus of clouds dancing around the mountain. At first glance, they seem the embodiment of peace and quiet but once your eye adjusts to the trickery of the geometric dimension the terraces spring to life. Farmers shout out across hills and up and down slopes to each other. A wife brings lunch to her husband, dogs run about and buffalo work and rest. It’s hard to imagine not having heard the sounds of the rice scythe, the slosh of paddy water and farmers’ chatter ringing out across the Dragons’ Backbone.