Its real country out here. Peasants scream up and down the no-lane roads in their three-wheel go carts, ducks waddle around pigs nuzzle roadside refuse a cow hides in the reeds by the river that flows down from the peak.
Xiao Bai's processing plant sits right on the river just a few feet from the old bridge. Behind her building is the local school. Dirty kids screeched in glee when i rolled up on their classroom and took eyes-closed foul shots with their flat basketball. One rowdy lil punk through a paper plane at me so i chased hm down and threw him over my shoulder. An eye-opening experience for him for sure.
I drank the local Honey Dew and some Maofeng and it was crystal clear with hints of yellowish green and the buds stood erect int he bottom of the square glass. I swished it around my mouth and felt the cleansing. I could sit there all day and compose verse for cock-eyed peasants.
Later int eh week I will visit the second mountain and my other supplier Lao Li up in Qing Cheng Mountain. I might try and get there on the 8th, the anniversary of the quake. And then, at some point, maybe after the full moon, I trek up Emei Mountain.
Qing Cheng Daoism infused Piao Xue Green, Meng Ding's hallowed Honey Dew, Emei's Buddha chant fed Zhu Ye Qing. These are the teas from Sichuan that I bringing to the states.
Charlie took pics, so I'll have them soon.
1 comment:
Emei was pretty heavenly-hellish going up all those stairs... but i hear it's even worse going down. I took the bus back down.
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