We recently learned the origin of the name of our neighborhood, Bailongsi (White Dragon Temple). It seems the Chinese believe natural springs to be the manifestation of a dragon's residence, and even the not especially scenic pond 50 yards outside our window indicates the presence of a dragon. In this case, it is the white dragon for which the neighborhood was named. The temple, I'm told is "long gone," but I can't be sure if that means it was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution or collapsed during the Qing Dynasty. Anyway, the villagers have a very clear idea about how the dragon's body relates to the local topography. Last year, against everyone's wishes, the college built faculty housing right on top of the dragon's head! Now it seems that the residents of that building have suffered untimely deaths and too frequent illnesses. The dragon is peeved.

Sunday in the Park

I don't think there is a more amusing way to spend 2 yuan (less than 25 cents) in Kunming than to head for Cuihu Park on a Sunday afternoon. With lotus-laden ponds, lush groves of bamboo, and a few traditional-style gazebos and walkways, it's a pretty enough park on any day of the week. But on Sundays, people of all ages flock to the park for all different kinds of recreation and amusement. For us, just watching and listening to the Chinese at play is the most fun of all.

Little boys show off their pet dragonflies straining on leashes. Heavily made-up brides (and grooms!) pose for photos under willow trees. You can spot a few tribal folks in traditional regalia mingling with with the Han, not hawking embroidery, but just enjoying the afternoon. Senior citizens play mahjong or cards on marble-topped tables in shady nooks.

In a nation of bicycles, Cuihu Park offers odd representations of the automobile. Young lovers rent car-shaped paddleboats to escape to the middle of a pond for some rare moments of privacy. Children who may rely on bikes their entire lives can practice driving battery-powered mini-cars at just one of several rides in the amusement park.

Pleasures are inexpensive in Cuihu Park. You can buy a bag of puffed rice to feed the carp. Women sell extremely fragrant petals tied to a thread; attach it to a button and you are suffused with natural perfume. Tea houses and snack bars abound, but you can also bring your own refreshments to one of the many tables lining the edge of the pond.

The best part about Sundays at Cuihu Park are the performances , which are free and apparently spontaneous. The performers possess the passion of amateurs and the skill of professionals. We listened to a blind man with a hot pink fan sing opera. Between scenes, he and his partner squabbled about each other's mistakes . As a half a dozen men bowed an assortment of stringed instruments, someone's sensibly dressed mother shimmied her shoulders as she coyly waved a red fan and sang of flirtation. Middle-aged women in office clothing and high heels danced their way through traditional dances about planting and harvesting.

One man takes these Sunday afternoons so seriously that you have to wonder how he spends the other six days of the week. From his bag of costumes, he might put on a a women's negligee and silly blue velvet hat to play a fool. Donning a fake mustache, ragged fur-trimmed robe, and battered fedora, he sang the part of a Mongolian from Xinjiang. A woman in colorful folkwear joined him in prancing and singing. He ends his performances with a cartwheel.
 

What did it look like?  Click here for pictures