The next day was far more active. We had a busy day out in the countryside with a local guide named River. We started off visiting a rural market and getting some local baba, which a type of baked bread that most of us had become quite addicted to by this point. While waiting for the baba I was approached by a vaguely familiar Scottsman who, after a few minutes of comparing notes I discovered was somebody I had briefly stayed with in Hong Kong a month prior. There have been a few occasions where I've re-met people in different cities, or even different countries, but in the middle of this dirt-poor middle-of-nowhere marketplace outside of Dali was the most random so far.
Next was a series of traditional craftspeople and shows of the local minority people. We had a chance to try our hand at local cheesemaking, learned about the local tie-dying, had a tea ceremony, and attended a demonstration of clothing and dancing for marriages. Apparently it is custom for everybody to run around pinching the bride after the wedding - I feel rather sorry for the girl that has that role in their demonstration.
Afterwards we headed off to the lake to watch some commerant fishing. Commerants are a type of bird famous for their fishing prowess. They dive to catch fish, but through a combination of training and equipment are prevented from swallowing the fish before the fisherman can capture it. I could pretend that the experience was a National Geographic-like showing, but in fact it was a hilariously touristy event that was at least incredibly entertaining, if slightly less than traditional. The fishers and their boat rowed ahead while about 6 or 7 boats with watchers rowed out behind it. The birds were all prominently displayed, and their impressive training and control was obvious. Once the fishing began things took a turn for the hilarious when the first fish was caught - displayed proudly in the bird's mouth. All the Chinese tourists were cheering wildly, but to us, the fish looked rather...dead. We discussed this phenomenon amongst ourselves - perhaps the bird speared the fish and it went limp very quickly? The next strikes though, we were all watching carefully and it became apparent that they had to be planting dead fish for the birds to "catch" (although we never did catch the actual act of them planting the fish, so either they were very good at it, or we didn't figure out the trick). I guess it makes sense, since shows demonstrating the fishing wouldn't be very exciting if we just rowed around with nothing happening, but their efforts to make it seem genuine amused us all. Afterwards, the other tourist boats rowed off but ours got to stay behind to play with the birds - I guess it's one of the perks of being a foreigner.
Finally it was time for our return to Dali. Instead of taking the bus back, we did a very fun 25km bike ride along the lake and through the countryside back to the city. This, to me, was kind of stereotypical China with armies of farmers working in the fields, doing everything by hand.
For dinner we went out to a barbecue place where you'd pick skewers of raw meat/vegetables and they'd grill them for you. I'd already developed something of a reputation in our group for some of my eating accomplishments, but it grew to a new level this night as I went through around 40 skewers, and had them up the spices three times. River brought a few bottles of his family home-brew rice wine, which turned out to be over 60% alchohol and only a few of us were happy to drink it. By the end of the meal a few of us were pretty tipsy, but it was a good evening out.
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