From July 27th to July 31st, I lived in M Village with Elvis to finally begin the construction of our motorcycle shop. At three in the morning, I found myself climbing over the fence of the housing compound I was staying in to go meet Elvis and the jeep. Afraid of being noticed by curious townsfolk or the gonganju, I hid behind a tree until Elvis arrived. When the jeep showed up, I was pleasantly surprised to see Elvis, his little brother, and one of our motorcycle trainees, Hochip, jump out of the jeep to usher me in. The trucks, carrying the majority of our construction materials, had left an hour earlier, and we planned to eventually catch up and offer any help that might be needed along the seven-hour journey that lay ahead.
Our trucks and jeep crossing the river to M Village
We left in the wee hours of the morning for two reasons: to avoid the watchful eyes of the local authorities, and to drive on the road when the conditions were best. For the past three weeks, the roads between M Village and X County have been non-existent. Summer rains have led to flooding, turning roads into mud baths. Floods destroyed a bridge on the route we had taken earlier in the summer, so we now drove through a longer, steeper, and more treacherous road. Two days earlier, the truck Elvis and his father rode in almost slid down a ravine into a river. Unlike most of us in times of crisis, T's tend to pray rather than shout out foul language. As the truck struggled to race up the ravine, Elvis bruised his shoulder because of whiplash. Thankfully, driving in a jeep was not nearly as precarious as a truck, but I was still wary. Not to mention, it was pitch black at 3 am and our driver had probably not slept at all.
Truck stuck on the edge of a hillside
Three hours into the drive at 6:30 am, I woke up to blue skies and steep slopes. Our trucks were slowly laboring back and forth down switchbacks along a mountainside. We watched wide-eyed as one of our trucks began to inch off the road and down the mountainside. Elvis and the rest of the passengers immediately jumped out of our jeep and ran down the road to pile large rocks in front of the wheels of the truck to prevent it from sliding further forward. The truck was stuck and could not go into reverse. The nomads used shovels to dig out rocks and dirt that blocked the truck. After an hour’s worth of trial and error, much tire screeching, and a lot of digging, we finally managed to clear a path. We continued our road trip and only encountered two more minor delays while crossing a river and driving up another mountainside. At 10:30 am, Elvis announced that we had officially entered the limits of M Village.
Volunteers - Unloading, shoveling, and stacking
At 11:30 am, our caravan finally rolled into the village center. Elvis immediately hopped out of the truck to greet old friends and relatives hanging out at the local stores. In less than 10 minutes, Elvis gathered 10-12 volunteers to help us unload the bricks, wooden beams, bamboo, roofing tiles, and bags of cement off the trucks. With the help of the volunteers, it took under an hour to unload and stack all the construction materials. Their reward for volunteering was a lukewarm bottle of pepsi and a picture with the white boy.
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Villagers load sand onto a truck at a riverbank
Throughout the construction process, Elvis portrayed a knack for recruiting volunteers. His ability to gather village support has been fundamental to the success of our project. Besides the construction materials we brought from X County, there remained many other materials within the village that had to be collected and transported. Over the course of my stay, we collected and transported 800 blocks of cement and two truckloads of sand. On each occasion, villagers would eagerly hop on the back of the truck or follow on their motorcycles whenever Elvis announced that we were leaving to collect some materials. After I left and the construction was underway, many nomads continued to offer help and support for our project.
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Villagers sip Pepsi after helping unload the construction materials
Motorcycle Training
Once the unloading was finished, I had some time to catch up with Hochip, our trainee, about his experiences with motorcycle training in X County. Our goals had been to teach the trainees how to fix basic motorcycle problems and to establish a motorcycle parts supply chain between X County and M Village. The training was largely a success. Everyday, he and the other trainee would work at the shop from 7:30 am to 7 pm, with a short lunch break in between. During their training, they fixed problems related to broken rearview mirrors, flat tires and lights, and made oil changes. The head mechanic of the shop was pleased with their efforts and progress.
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L-R: Volunteer, Hochip, and David riding on the back of a truck
Although the training went well, two problems remain. First, the trainees are still unable to solve engine and electrical problems. The shop owner said with time and more practice, the trainees would eventually learn how to deal with such problems. Second, Hochip does not know how to price his services or the motorcycle parts he will sell in M Village. Without a profitable pricing scheme, the shop could go out of business in the near future. Next winter, the trainees may need another training session.
Summer Pastures
During the summer time, the villagers lock up their houses and spend about a day moving all their livestock and many household supplies to greener fields located 1-2 hours away by motorcycle. While the nomads are in the summer pastures, the grasslands around their winter homes have time to grow lush and green again. After talking with Hochip, Elvis's friend dropped us off in Elvis's summer home. His summer home is along a small river in a beautiful valley. Eagles circle the air looking for scraps of meat while hundreds of yak and sheep from different nomadic families graze along the green pastures. The valley is peppered with white tents belonging to Elvis's family and many of his relatives.
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Summer pasture where Elvis's relatives and livestock live for two months of the year
The nomadic tents are made of simple cloth and are held up by a few wooden poles and yak hair rope. Upon entering Elvis's tent, I was surprised by the sudden change of temperature. In the middle of the tent sat a large stove emitting lots of heat and boiling water for jia (tea). Pots, bowls, water jugs, and other household items surrounded the tent. Facing the stove was a large makeshift bed composed of large flat rocks stacked on top of each other. The rocks are covered with carpets and blankets, making it extremely comfortable to lie on. The tent was deceivingly big, able to comfortable fit about 6-9 people. A small solar panel sat outside the tent, powering a single a light bulb and a yak butter-making machine. All in all, living in the tents was exactly like living in the winter homes, except more water was prone to leak in when it rained.
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Inside a tent the villagers live in during the summer
First Motorcycle Ride
On July 28, 2010, I had my first motorcycle ride with a T nomad. I was stoked, to say the least. But, it looked quite uncomfortable to sit on the back of a motorcycle as you drove through rocky roads, bumpy grasslands, and shallow rivers. I hopped on the back of Elvis's uncle's motorcycle, the better driver of the two, to go buy cement blocks from the local cement merchant.
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David learning how to ride a motorcycle
Robert Pirsig, author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (a book that all of you who are reading this blog should read immediately), is right about riding a motorcycle. It’s not like you’re watching TV through the windows of a car. Instead, one's senses are suddenly aware of the surrounding environment.
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David with the village monk in the village center
The wind blowing into your face, the water splashing against your legs, the grunts and chirping of the animals, and the glorious and pervasive smell of yak dung are all pronounced. Never mind all the dangerous rocks and potholes on the road, and never mind the fact that we weren't wearing helmets, riding a motorcycle is amazing. I felt a huge rush as Elvis's uncle sped up and down hills and through shallow rivers with the utmost confidence. It was all so romantic... and badass, of course.
Cement and Jabba the Hut
In X County, Elvis and I decided to buy cement blocks in M Village instead of X County because it would be cheaper and safer to transport them in M. The cement maker in M Village is ethnically Han and lives in X County, but he has a T representative who deals with all transactions in M.
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Jabba's son eating homemade bread
As we approached the representative's house, it was obvious from the two large solar panels, two satellite dishes, and neatly stacked rows of cement blocks sitting outside his house that this family was among the elite in M Village. I entered the house to find an old, bald nomad sitting cross-legged on a bed with T scriptures, receipts, and a calculator laid out in front of him. A young lady (who could’ve been his daughter, but I think she was his wife), with an adorable two-year-old boy, was serving him tea and baking bread on the stove.
For some odd and unexplainable reason, the cement baron immediately reminded me of Jabba the Hut. It may have been his relatively lavish but dark and rustic house, or his young wife serving him food and drink that reminded me of Jabba. We went through the traditional T custom of refusing all the tea and bread Jabba's wife pushed under our noses. The day before, Elvis and his uncle bargained down the price of a single cement block to 4.3 RMB (about 70 cents). We thus paid a total of 3,440 RMB for 800 blocks and arranged to pick up the blocks the next day.
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The cement baron of the village
Aspects of M Village
Later that night, the village monk, a respected figure in the village and a strong supporter of our project, and Elvis described the wealth gap within their own village. According to them, there are two classes: a rich and a poor class. The rich own lots of livestock and have grasslands on which the lucrative caterpillar fungus grows. In contrast, the lower class has relatively less livestock and caterpillar fungus is scarce on their small plots of grassland.
Elvis claims that many of the elites are the more traditional nomads in the village. These traditional nomads do not send their children to school, especially their daughters. As a result, many young men from richer families remain illiterate and uneducated. While their wives cook and clean at home, the men spend their days riding their motorcycles to the village center to eat, drink, and chat with friends. Boredom is endemic among most of these elite nomads, leading to gambling and other unproductive activities.
The wealthy class has political clout within the village that allows them to hoard any government-sponsored benefits or development projects offered to M. Thus, villagers from the poorer classes often do not receive any of the limited government aid. Elvis and the monk both emphasized the importance of implementing projects for the poorest families in the village. The Yak Loan and Girls’ Education projects, initiated by Elvis and Pentok, were successful in directly targeting poor families that could not afford to send their daughters to school or raise enough money to support their family.
Skilled Labor
On Thursday, July 29, Elvis and I waited in the village center all day for the skilled laborers to arrive. Earlier in the day, T Fishy called us to say that her uncle and the other skilled laborer were on their way and would begin construction the next day. At 6 pm, T Fishy called to deliver bad news. The laborers were a mere two hours away, but they were making the 5-hour ride back home because their motorcycle could not cross a river that blocked their path. Elvis and I were furious.
Before I left X County, T Fishy and I had agreed to give the laborers an extra 500 RMB to hire a jeep. In an attempt to pocket the money, they decided to ride their own motorcycle over the treacherous roads to M, only to be turned back by a river. Elvis exclaimed that a jeep and even an experienced motorcycle driver from his village could navigate those waters. We told T Fishy to convince the workers to stay in the nearby township of L, so Elvis could call a friend to pick them up the next day. A few minutes later, T Fishy called to tell us that they agreed to stay one night in L Township. Relieved, we drove home satisfied with the thought that construction would only be delayed for one more day.
Wolf Encounter
On a happier note, that night I saw an actual wild wolf of the Qinghai plateau! Elvis and I were staying at the winter home by ourselves because it was closer to the village center. The responsibility of cooking dinner (bread and instant noodles) fell onto the two of us. We had run out of water, and I volunteered to walk the 50 meters down to the stream to collect more. Elvis said, "Wait, there are wolves out there, I must go with you." On our first trip to M Village, T Fishy confided to us that she had been terrified of going to the bathroom outside at night because Elvis's parents insisted that wolves wandered around the nearby hills after dusk. Of course, the wolf howls that T Fishy heard in the middle of the night came from Elvis's mother. I was determined to be less gullible, and told Elvis that I knew of his parents’ trickery. Elvis gave me a bewildered look and said, "No, there really are wolves out there. I’m coming with you. Let's go."
We picked up the water jug and headed toward the nearby stream. As we approached, Elvis suddenly let out a war cry, picked up a rock, and threw it across the stream. And there, standing by the water’s edge less than 20 meters from us, was a gigantic black wolf. Its eyes glowed a fiery red, and it froze in the light of my headlamp as it watched us cautiously. Elvis gave out another war cry as he threw a second rock. The wolf slowly retreated and Elvis quickly filled up our water jug. Meanwhile, I jumped up and down by his side, holding three stones at the ready. Once the jug was filled, we raced back to the house. I was extremely excited to have seen such an intimidating animal in the mountains of Qinghai.
Later that night, I desperately had to go relieve myself. With a stone and toilet paper in hand, I went out to the back of the house. Before I got to business, I carefully did a 360-degree scan of my surroundings for any wolves. It was the most frightening and adventurous poop I have ever taken in my life. When I finished, I told Elvis how terrifying my bathroom outing had been. Elvis, preoccupied with writing something, asked, "Do you really believe that you saw a wolf tonight?” I replied, "Of course, you saw how big that thing was." Elvis sighed and said, "It was actually a really big dog. Wolves are gray or yellow, never black. And, they keep to themselves in the hills far away from our house." I was shocked, deflated, and angry all at the same time. That little jerk put on a great show! So much for not being gullible...
More Skilled Labor Issues
Friday, July 30, the day construction on our motorcycle shop should start. Elvis and I woke up early and rushed to the village center to arrange for a jeep to pick up the skilled laborers. We called the laborers to find that they were already on their way home. They told us that they tried to hire a jeep, but the driver asked for 800 RMB ($120). Elvis and the monk were pissed. Elvis could've easily gotten a friend to pick them up for 100-200 RMB ($15-30), but the laborers didn't bother to wait around. Again, we called T Fishy and she said that we might have to find different skilled workers. The construction process could be delayed for an indefinite amount of time. Elvis and the monk were particularly frustrated because they had spent the past week searching for volunteers to help on the first day of construction. Now, volunteers were showing up with nothing to do.
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Villagers calling to find other skilled laborers
When the volunteers arrived, Elvis, the monk, and the volunteers made a flurry of phone calls on their cell phones, trying to find drivers or other skilled laborers. The calls were all in vain. But, instead of moping around, we started to tear down the roof of the old building. Hochip, the monk's little brother and one of our trainees, had experience with construction work and took the lead. Roofs in M have five layers: dirt on top, then tarp, a layer of bamboo strips, another layer of long thin bamboo poles, and finally, 6-7 wooden beams. We began by climbing onto the top of the roof and shoveling off the first layer of dirt and sand. We then systematically removed the remaining layers until only the large wooden beams were left. Hochip took it upon himself to walk along each beam and carefully remove them. In less than 45 minutes, the roof was completely removed and all that remained were the brittle adobe walls.
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Hochip deconstructing the old building's roof
At the end of the day, we received some good news. T Fishy managed to convince two skilled laborers to take on the construction job and come to M. Elvis arranged for his father, who was in a nearby prefecture, to pick up the skilled laborers on his way back to M. The skilled laborers would arrive late in the evening and construction would finally start the next day. We got on the motorcycle and went back to the winter pastures with one of Elvis’s many cousins.