Jingmaishan 景迈山
Intro
The keyboard-pounding maniac sitting next to me as I write this at a Shenzhen coffee shop is reminding me of something I miss from my recent trip to Yunnan. I feel like most of us set out on our trips with the hope that we’ll be the only ones at our destination, but that’s never what happens. As soon as that one picture from Instagram with a trendy hashtag hits the eyes of the wanderlust, it’s all over. The crowds arrive and a once-hidden gem is now an insect-covered fruit on a summer day, attracting influencers and tourists alike to see and copy the photos of others before them. I hope this never happens to Jingmaishan, the most tranquil place I’ve ever been.
The Location
If you are willing to show respect to this inspiring place, pull out a map and find the point where Thailand, Laos and Myanmar meet, follow it due north across the Chinese border, and then keep moving up and stop in the green just before you run into highway G219. That’s Jingmaishan (景迈山). It looks like you’re in the middle of nowhere, and you are! It was a hell of a time getting there, let me tell you why.
Getting There
My wife and I started our trip with a drive from Pu’er, a city with the same name as the tea it is famous for. For 3 hours, we drove along highways that snaked through valleys and tunneled through mountains. And by tunneled, I mean tunneled—long ones, a testament to China’s commitment to infrastructure. A few checkpoints later, we exited the highway and found ourselves on a country road winding up a mountain. I’ve gotten used to driving in China, but this was next level. The turns were almost all blind, and trucks the size of shipping containers carried everything from dirt to produce up and down the hill at a pace of an obese turtle. Cars lined up behind as smoke poured out of the truck struggling up the incline. Eager drivers passed blindly, and EVERYONE was eager. I focused on my driving and nothing else.
Turning a corner, we dodged a herd of cattle being led up the mountain and exited the country road. Following the map into a one-laner through the jungle and tea plants, I rolled down the windows to keep an ear out for oncoming cars, but few ever came. There seemed to be no one around until there wasn’t. The cars we passed required a careful team effort of pulling to the side and using hand gestures to coordinate. But after an hour of driving and passing a cow being butchered on the side of the road, I realized I’d exited my familiar zone and entered a new experience.
Natural Beauty
The string of villages on Jingmaishan are surrounded by jungle-like forests filled with banyan trees and the sound of happy birds. It was a soundtrack left on repeat that never got old. The view looking both east and west is mountainous with a sky that can’t decide what it wants to be. Thunder and lightning, rain and sun, wind and calm were all a part of the show. A line of windmills could be seen on a mountain far away to the south, but the view was otherwise clear of the man-made.
Ethnic Minorities
Jingmaishan is home to two ethnic minorities: the Dai and the Blang (Bulang). The Dai are related to a cluster of groups that are common as you move south into Laos and Thailand, but the Blang are unique to the region and have a long history of tea cultivation, one of the earliest known groups to do so in China. Living in open-air, two-level dwellings, their villages cling to the mountainside. Walking the twisting pathways through villages with roughly 100 buildings, you can see many families preparing tea on drying racks and other pieces of machinery. All of which added to the ambiance of smells and sounds that included local friends laughing and chickens wandering.
The Blang people wear beautiful attire. Brightly colored head scarves, blouses, and skirts give color to an otherwise starkly green environment. While the Blang have their own language, everyone I encountered spoke Mandarin and were helpful. Small storefronts were filled with off-brand versions of drinks and snacks, and as a lone foreigner, some were eager to know where I was from, while others just stared.
The Food
I’m no foodie, but what I was able to try didn’t disappoint. The hybridization of dishes I’m comfortable with and the regional custom of adding tea leaves gave the food I ate an exciting flavor. Chicken and beef were common, but river fish filled with spices and insect-based dishes were also on the menu. Although cell service is strong, don’t think you can look up restaurants on Dianping or other delivery apps, as most locations are small. You’ll need to actually dial a phone number of local restaurants if you want anything delivered to where you are staying. The restaurant in the photo was a winner and also carried honey, mushrooms, and tea as something to take home and savor for weeks to come.
Magical Tree
In the midst of all the natural beauty, one location stood out. A short walk outside of Mangjing Village (芒景) is a sacred banyan tree that locals protect for a good reason. The Blang call it the Bee King Tree due to the fact it has over 60+ beehives hanging from its branches. The tree is a genuine wonder to watch, and while looking at it, I felt connected to nature in a way I hadn’t before. In fact, I was so struck by it that I woke up early to experience it at sunrise a second time, and I’m glad I did. The birds sang from the upper canopy as I watched the tree from the viewing platform built by the village. I could hear the faint buzz of bees, like the supporting instruments of an orchestra. It felt dangerous and beautiful; both are true.
This audio was recorded in the early morning nearby
After some research, the bees on this tree seem to be apis dorsata, also known as giant honey bees, and they have some unique qualities. They live in large groups like this in a few other places in Southeast Asia and have the ability to migrate long distances as a result of their large numbers, leaving some of the hives I saw vacant. But they’ll return in the coming months. Their stingers are larger and more venomous than the European honeybee I’m used to and can swarm to protect their hives. Not an experience I want to endure! They even react to external stimuli and do something called “shimmering,” which is the bee version of “the wave” at a sports stadium, making them appear as a unified organism. I noticed this reaction when a car passed nearby. The buzz increased, then echoed as it dissipated.
While standing near the tree and soaking in what felt like a spiritual connection to nature, an older local man on a motorcycle stopped his engine. Dressed in work clothes, he slowly sat down and gazed at the tree in a way that reminded me of a elder churchgoer before a service. It seemed like a ritual for him, something that made him feel closer to his home. I was envious of his access to such a singular place.
A sign near the tree reads:
Approximately one kilometer to the northeast of Manging Shanghai grows a 50-meter-high banyan tree. It is unique because there are about 70 beehives on its trunk and branches. It is considered a sacred tree by the Blang people of Manging village. They protect the tree and hold sacrificial rituals for it. During major festivals, villagers hold rituals, called “Attracting Bees” under the tree. All year round, i’is forbidden to approach tine free of harvest wild honey from it.
Bee King Tree Sign
Insects pollinate ancient tea trees and forests. They are an important part of the biological community of the old tea forest. Bee King Tree embodies the balanced biodiversity of the old tea forest in the Aileng Mountain and the Blang’s nature worship.
UNESCO Nomination
Jingmaishan has been nominated as a UNESCO Heritage Site. I can only hope that will help preserve this unique wonder and not attract attention that will be detrimental to its preservation.
Sources
Unesco Nomination: https://whc.unesco.org/en/tentativelists/5810/
Bee Information: https://entnemdept.ufl.edu/creatures/MISC/BEES/Apis_dorsata.htm
Blang Minority: https://factsanddetails.com/china/cat5/sub31/entry-4402.html