Taking the Long Road.docVIP

Taking the Long Road What began as the most unlikely of propositions had somehow become reality. Outside my hotel window, a crowd numbering upwards of several thousand had begun to assemble. Some people carried cameras, others waved flags. A long line of women wearing ornate horned silver headdresses and elaborate local costumes danced in slow swaying time to the oscillating drone of a similarly adorned band of reed pipers. Men in uniform marshalled the crowds, and an excitable woman with a megaphone issued sharp high-pitched orders. Amid all this was a large stage, and above it hung a green and blue banner that read: 換iandongnan Ultra-100KM International Running Challenge? Me黔东南超100公里跑国际挑战赛 Qi1nd4ngn1n Ch`o Y#b2i G4ngl@ P2o Gu5j# Ti2ozh3ns3i How and why I had come to arrive at this point were still largely unclear, but one thing remained certain: it was too late to turn back. Qiandongnan is a far-flung tribal enclave in the mountainous southwestern province of Guizhou, some 600 or so miles northeast of the Myanmar border. Given its relative isolation, the region remains in touch with many of the rituals and rites that have been practised there for centuries. That’s not to say the mark of modern China isn’t ever present―newly built highways connect hillside villages to lavish central plazas―but unlike other parts of the country, flush with year-on-year growth, Qiandongnan has resisted the urge to bulldoze and rebuild, managing instead to preserve something of its unique history and outward character. I had arrived at the provincial capital of Guiyang the previous afternoon, having made the once daily flight from Beijing. It was a cold mid-December day, and it seemed strange to me that I should be making such a journey: to a place I had no idea even existed a mere 72 hours earlier, at the behest of the local municipal government, who had both arranged and paid for the trip. Running as a recreational sport is taking off in China in a big way, arguably nowhere more so