Managed to get up in the morning just. I had just started on the boiled quail eggs at 2.30pm when Nong pinged me to go to her place. Oh, it transpired we were to go somewhere to eat. As it was getting on for 3pm I should have guessed it wasn't lunch. I'd forgotten her house again so she had to come out to find me, and then her chubby friend also came out and we stood on the roadside before I realised they'd booked a didi che. We spent the next 20 minutes in the car driving outside of town to somewhere I'd never been before. Ah, I suddenly remembered that last night that woman had told me they would take me to a traditional Guangxi meal. I've been told so many times that so-and-so would take me to such-and-such a place, but it rarely materialises due mainly to them being tipsy. So I'd not booked a slot in my schedule at all, and certainly wasn't prepared. Plus my phone was only on 70%.
At one stage I had a mild fear that I was being kidnapped. We were well into the countryside and there was no xinhao (reception), and I'd barely met the two people in the car taking me. But of course all was well as we finally happened upon a tiny hamlet. The women were talking about a meal and said there would only be white alcohol. Part of me was relieved as I would have an excuse for a dry meal, but part of me thought that never have I attended a meal where beer wasn't at least available. But when we met more people from last night they seemed to confirm there was no beer. I put it at 50/50.
A few of us went for a walk in a field to look at dried mud. Apparently some of it was too wet. Too wet for what was beyond me but wouldn't be for a while. It transpired we were going to build a kind of kiln which is specific to Guangxi. We spent the next 20 minutes finding suitable chunks of "tu" that were not too big and not too small, and not too wet. Then a bloke set upon building up a sort of hive using the mud blocks. It took him a good half an hour as occasionally the wall would partially collapse. It was a really rural setting in every way except for some reason for the first 20 minutes there was a drone high above us and I got the feeling we were being filmed.
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| Looking for mud with the right texture |
I helped get some bamboo and around 5.30pm the bloke started the fire at the base of the kiln. I asked what the procedure was, and the kiln builder said we'd feed the fire until the blocks of mud were red hot, then put in the pork and chicken and sweet potatoes. The mud would infuse a certain flavour upon them. At 6pm it was deemed that the mud was ready so a couple of the blokes picked off the top few blocks of red hot mud until there was a hole about 8"in diameter. Then people started trying to drop in the foil-wrapped meat and a few sweet potatoes. They managed to start the wall collapsing but it seemed this was partly the point. Eventually as everything had been put in the red hot mud had totally collapsed and the blokes set upon bashing it down and covering it with more dusty fresh mud in an attempt to stop the smoke (and heat) escaping. We were told it would take 40 minutes to do so, so went back to the farm place as it was getting dark.
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| The built kiln |
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| Getting ready to put in the meat and sweet potatoes |
Going for a walk I met an old woman picking up cornless cobs from the floor and putting them into plastic bags. I guess they are used for pig feed or something. I said hello but she answered in the local dialect. So I told her that it was getting dark and I'd help her fill up. It was a great few minutes but despite me speaking to her in Putonghua she always spoke to me in Tuhua, even when I said I didn't understand. But smiles are global and I received many, as I did from the other old lady who walked past. I would like to have understood an iota of the conversation they had....
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| Part of my work for the evening |
Then one of the ladies (the one who beat me badly at cai ma yesterday) asked me if I was hungry. I thought it would be polite to say "yes" as it would mean I was looking forward to the meal shortly. But then she thrust a piece of honeycomb into my hand and said to eat it and it would stop me being hungry. I didn't really want to stop being hungry and I'm not a great fan of honey but sod it, it's the first time in my life I've had the chance to eat freshly-picked honeycomb. But I had to ask if you just lick the honey or do you also eat the comb. Well apparently you eat it all and I did and it was bloody delicious if rather sweet.
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| Fresh Guangxi honeycomb |
Then I saw some of our cohort on top of the building next door, so I had to go and join them. But bloody hell the stairs not only had no bannisters, they also had about a two foot gap between them. I managed a storey then went down before I saw a sprightly 65+ year-old canter up without a care in the world. Well I cared, and kept close to the walls, and got up to see a load of people loading freshly-dried corn into sacks. As you do. I made it up the stairs more because my fear of looking scared to the ladies is slightly worse than my fear of going up the said stairs. So no-one noticed my fear getting upstairs (had I had a drop to drink it might have been easier), and of course I joined in.
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| Gathering the dried sweetcorn on the roof as you do |
It was appreciated and we went down (carefully) to wash our hands, and I told one of the old women it was 6.40pm so time to get the food. This they duly did and found the eight sweet potatoes too, and we were back shortly after 7pm, when the meal started. Well we don't normally start drinking till 15 mins of eating but a couple of them, including Nong, had. Miraculously a load of beer had turned up and it turned out I was by no means the only beer-drinker.
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| Raucous and fantastic meal in the countryside |
I'm not totally sure I noticed the difference the mud kiln had made but I sent Tan a picture of it and she said it reminded her of childhood fun. The meal turned into a raucous affair of cai ma and drinking. Nong eventually passed out after a lack of sleep and too much of the white stuff, but woke up after an hour or so to carry on as you do. The only sober bloke at the table was so because he was driving, and duly took some of them back after 11pm. I appeared to be in the second group, and found out we'd be getting a lift back with a beer drinker. Well I guess it was better than nothing. We crammed into the 4x4 and to be fair he did drive safely. I made sure Nong got back safely and I got home safely somehow after 2am after picking up my dian dong che from her place.
Except the bloody key wouldn't open the door. It was pretty bad in the summer and wasn't getting any better. And it wouldn't open earlier today before I went out and forgot my tissues and went back to get them. That should have set alarm bells but I was already late so dealt with my tissue fetish and did without. What to do? It was too late to call friends to see if any had a spare room. Well, it probably wasn't, but I would have been too embarrassed to ask. My phone was dangerously low on juice (had I been told we were going to the countryside earlier I'd have taken my charger), so I had to make a decision. There was a hotel a five minute walk away so I thought that would be my most likely course. I tried in vain again to open the door but it stubbornly refused. Then I had the idea of asking security. Well the bloke said he might be able to help, so came over to the block and then realised when I said there was a problem with the key I was referring to the front door, not the building entrance. He said he couldn't help with the door but pointed to a sticker on the wall with a phone number on it and told me to call it. What? Well, it was 2.30am and it was either that or find a hotel.
Luckily, I remembered I'd left my powerbank in the back of the dian dong che so at least I no longer had the worry of a dead phone. So I called the number and I'd clearly woken up the person who answered. I explained my issue then thrust the phone into the hands of the security guy to corroborate what I think I had said. By now I was very sober, and was interested to hear that apparently someone would be here in a few minutes. So I waited in the security place and indeed a bloke turned up on a motorbike. We went to the front door and he confirmed the key didn't work. Then, just like a few years ago at our old place when the lock stopped working, he simply unscrewed the eyepiece (is there a word for that thing?) and stuck a lever-like thing through and opened the door from the inside. Luckily I'd not locked it properly. And that was it. I was in and it was confirmed that the other key inside worked so it was simply my key was screwed. 150 kuai for the call-out and work was absolutely worth it, not least because it was nearly 3am.
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| It looks like the broken key (on the left) was simply worn out |
So grateful, I poured a mother of a gin and lemonade and it ended up being another 4am sleep. But yet another great and unique (for me) and cultural experience. This is what I came here for and I'm certainly getting it....
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