Wuyuan Postcard



I was going country and I had no idea how to get there.

Uptown, downtown, aim for a couple of major cities in the general direction of my countryside target and keep heading northeast.

Night after night in a different hotel room the devil had appeared.

The demon of destruction, nearly stealing my soul, deconstructing my mind.

I had been lucky to escape.

But now my thoughts were on rotation, spinning wildly and wilder upon themselves, testing my strength and fortitude.


I was going insane.

Thinking too much, with all my thoughts collapsing upon each other; building up and then toppling over.

Until there was no where else left to fall...

China will do that to you.


Rice field
White village buildings by river

But it did not matter.

Here in the country rice was royalty.

Stretched out over the tar-sealed country road, left to dry under the season's striking sun, everything else was on bypass.

The local bus had made its way from the city of Wuyuan, my current base, towards the local tourist towns nearby, nearly falling down ditches to avoid the settled, strewn rice.

For rice was sustainable income, salvation, enough to sustain a nation.

A nation of thirty or a tour group of twenty, they would all keep on coming.

Through the surrounding barricades and fortifications that protected the tourist towns from those who did not abide by the rules of paying a surmountable entrance fee.

Marching in battalions.

In uniform and in unison, across the path and the provinces of their birth.

Nothing can stop them now.

A billion people, maybe more.

Tour group
White village buildings
Bulls by small lake
Small lake and buildings