Lijiang is some kind of beautiful weird place. Touted as China’s "last ‘living’ ancient town", it's the final urban stand of the native Naxi people. And may I say, it's real easy on the eye.
Full of lovely little canals where, this being entrepeneurial China, you can buy goldfish to set free in the water. Or, if you prefer, clever floating cellophane flowers with little candles inside to let bob gently away on the current. And no guilt about litter as, just out of sight, an accomplice hastily retrieves both fish and flowers to re-sell on as quickly as possible. Atmospheric and charming, the canals snake around ancient gingko trees, under beautiful stone bridges, along lovely cobblestoned streets between fabulously ancient buildings...Oh so pretty, so pretty pretty, it's no wonder at all that it has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site for the last ten years..
But here's the thing that makes me so cynical about this really very lovely place. Lijiang was knocked flat by an earthquake in 1994, which brought down 98% of the ancient buildings. A major fire in 1998 wiped out pretty much anything left. It rose from the rubble and ashes in all it's reconstructed glory after UNESCO rode in to the rescue with the World Heritage designation (and funding) in 1997. Although seriously affected by both natural disasters, the more recent and unprecedented onslaught of mass tourism is what is really bringing the place to it's knees - and certainly making me question in what way the place represents 'world heritage'.
Lijiang may be pretty but it sure as hell ain't easy on the ears. Whole
streets are hung with long string after string of red lanterns, that
are reflected in the water of the canals: just absolutely gorgeous. But
the red lanterns also signify that this is party-on-down time. Raucous
discos feature bored hostesses dressed in tarted-up Naxi or Musou
tribal gear dancing self-consciously with reeling drunks. The rival
karaoke bars provide not just a mic and backing track but a real live
electric guitarist strummng along as pissed Chinese offfice workers
wail away. And then there is the horrendous balcony singing, where even
more faux-tribal girls shriek songs at passersby, who are thus
presumably enticed inside by having had four slappers scream at them in
unison, in a horrifyingly bastardised version of the Naxi courting
rituals. It's
pretty incredible, even to a jaded old party tart like me. I sound like
an old fogie but I was offended on so many levels that I just gave up
and watched it all unfold, train-crash style.
Most incredible to me was that by 11pm, the whole damn thing shuts down and you could hear a drunk piss into the canal by 23.05pm (re: the canals, I still think they were actually drunk traps to make cleaning up the place easier).
All this has obviously impacted hugely on the Naxi people and their last major city, whose lovely buildings and warm welcome have resulted in it's being snowed under by massive tourism. The Naxi who own property are cleaning up by renting out their traditional (read: small, dark and ill-equipped) homes in the Old Town for fortunes and buggering off to live in swank flats in the suburbs sans tourists. Those that remain struggle to maintain traditional Dongba culture and language; matrilineal politics; shamanistic nature-focussed beliefs and shreds of historical integrity in the midst of rampant,
and unplanned, modern construction and commercialization.
Recently, the Chinese government has begun to address this by developing additional "old city" sections adjacent to the site of the original city. This is an effort to ease the press of people on the Naxi town and also try to accommodate the tourists, particularly Han Chinese, in large and rowdy package tours, who prefer their hotels big, restaurants large and entertainment rowdy. Although amused by the building of an ersatz old town to feed this tourism gap, I reckon it's pretty much the same thing as the original so-called 'old' city anyways.
So, the travellers from around the world flood in; and the locals that can cash in and move out; the chain stores open up and what a shock, they are somewhat belatedly realizing that due to so much development, the old town of Lijiang has begun to lose its appeal. And UNESCO, who after all gave the place it's listing because of it's unique urban environment are reviewing this designation as we speak.
