Yi women in their colourful dresses and hats
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My only goal was to see the Yi people, as I had seen spectacular pictures of their dresses. My search for the Yi in southern Sichuan province ended up in a great adventure.
One of them gestured me to follow them, so I did. We walked to the entrance of Puge, and then walked up a steep street. When we reached a small square surrounded by one-storey buildings, the women gave the hat to a woman, who took it inside. In a glimpse, I saw several women wearing those high black hats and brightly coloured dresses, but a group of young men motioned me to sit with them. They quickly found a Yi who spoke some rudimentary English, and I could communicate with him. It turned out that the previous day, a woman had died, and she was lying in state in the main building. I was patiently listening to him, but inside of me, I felt a burning desire to move to the square, and watch what was going on. Suddenly, an awful sound seemed to tear my ears apart. Not only were fireworks lit, some kind of electrical firework machine was making a deafening noise - a Yi man was pressing the buttons. After a while, I asked my new friend if we could have a look on the square, and he directly invited me inside, into the room where the deceased woman lay. There, I was immediately offered beer, but I politely refused, which the Yi man found very funny. The woman was lying at the other side of the hall. After a short while, an older man approached me, took my hand, squeezed it tight, and dragged me out of my chair. As we walked through some alleys, the old Yi man looking back at me with an incredulous laugh on his face, I wondered where we were going - until we passed a courtyard. Five cowheads were lying on the floor, with the skin that had been holding their body together, lying right behind them, still attached to the heads. Miraculously, there was almost no blood. In the background, a few Yi men were hacking their way through some big chunks of cow meat. I now had a clear idea of what was coming up, and just hoped that I would like the Yi kitchen. I was guided into a big room where groups of Yi people were squatting on the floor in circles, men and women strictly separated, digging into the bowls in front of them with their bare hands. I was summoned to sit with a group of men, including my companion. In the middle of our circle, three bowls: one with plain rice, one with broth, and one with big chunks of meat. It turned out to be very edible. I only had trouble squatting while eating, and decided I could use one foot on the floor to keep my balance. I was clearly not properly trained to be seated the local way. During this lunch with ultra-fresh meat, my new friend told me that the old man who had joyfully taken me here and invited me to lunch, was the husband of the deceased woman. I wondered how the man could appear so joyful.
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