Guilin, China: Terraced mountains, ethnic minorities, and caves

Chinese government airlines. You have to go through the Chinese immigration process at least once in your life at the airport. When we arrived in China, they barked at us to line up single file in immigration line then made everyone go through by themselves, including Boom -- usually you can go through as a family. Boom had to get up on his tip toes, as they initially physically held my shoulders to make it clear I had to stand behind the red line and could not join Boom as he was questioned by the immigration officer behind the counter, after initial confusion, although I provided no resistance. I was too intimidated by the Chinese machine. After the kids and I went through, the immigration police called in a supervisor and took Ken away, with Ken yelling out to me that he was being taken away by the police. I freaked out, having heard stories of how the US Embassy has no influence in China once an American is in detention. No one spoke English and I didn't know who to lobby to help Ken, if he didn't return soon. All the while, our flight was about to leave. After a half hour, I sweated, then Ken returned, pale, clearly scared by the experience. They had taken him to an office where they compared his face to one they had on the computer, probably of some freedom-fighting white rabble rouser with a bald head and goatee. All white people look alike I guess. But, after 5 of them consulted, without speaking any English to Ken, he was freed. We were about to run to catch our plane, that we were about to miss, faced with a 20 minute walk to the gate. Then, the police stopped us again. They had looked at our checked bag, figured out where we were easily, and made us take out all offending items. They made us spray our can of aerosol sunscreen on Ken's skin, to determine that it wasn't an explosive. When Ken's skin didn't melt on contact, they didn't say, okay you're good to go. They consulted, then decided we had to throw out the 4 huge cans of sunscreen Becca had meticulously wrapped and bagged and brung to KL on her February trip to visit us because Asia has no spray sunscreen that we covet, as parents of three pale children. I almost said something to them, to protest, but Ken stopped me. Then, I snapped out of it and was so freaked out I was happy to throw them out. But, then we were faced with knowing we missed our flight. The two policemen herded us and our suitcase onto an official police mini-car and drove us at a leisurely rate to the gate where they had made the airplane wait for us. They then told the airline they were able to take off, now that we'd arrived. We were stunned.

Guilin ethnic group - Zhuong with distinctive towels on their heads

Horns sold on way up to rice terraces

Chinese love naming nature, this is the name of the famous rice terraces we hiked up to

Always the communist, farm lovers, even at a tourist site

Hike up

Yao ethnic minority, with hair that is only cut once in their lifetimes

They were hard, hard, hard bargainers. They made us buy something then pay extra for them to show us their hair for a photo op. No one's taking advantage of these minorities at the rice terraces.

They keep their hair tucked into a bun that holds a long piece of hair that they grew from age 0 til they turned 18. You cut your hair off at age 18.

Alice was in awe. Their hair was so glossy, treated with oil to shine brilliantly. This is the hair she's grown, uncut since age 18.

How they put their hair up in the twisty bun

As women, we felt a certain connection with these Yao women. I sure look tall there!

See Griffin here?

They claim this is ancient Chinese writing, back from the cavemen days. We'd grown skeptical of Chinese party line, at this point.

More ethnic minority garb and adornment.   June 20, 2011