A Buddhist saying claims one has to travel to strange places at least once or twice a year to keep active and alive.

My trip to the remote Changyang Tujia Autonomous county in Central China's Hubei province did just that for me.

A group of us from Beijing arrived at the mountainous county last month after a bumpy ride on winding roads for about two hours from Yichang, a riverside city close to the Three Gorges Dam.

I knew nothing about Changyang, the land and its people, except for the 1957 archaeological findings of fossils now known as "Changyang Man" which represents early Homo Sapiens dating back 200,000 years, and the Tujia diao zha bing cake, touted as "Chinese-style pizza," now a favourite in Beijing.

What struck me first in Changyang were the mountains covered in lush vegetation, the calm, clear rivers and gushing waterfalls.

Although it did not rain, the forests appeared to be wet and the dark green leaves on the trees shone against the setting sun.

Our minivan was constantly shaking, throwing us from side to side as it took sharp turns.

Finally, we got off at a small hillside town called Ziqiu, not unlike other small Chinese towns that I know, with rows of concrete structures and dirty streets.

"We are arriving at the birthplace of the Tujia ethnic people and their culture," announced our local tour guide Zhang Yanni.

"What?!" was my first response.

The Tujia people are scattered in Sichuan, Guizhou, Hubei and Hunan provinces.

But Changyang is believed to be the place where Lin Jun, a mythical leader of the ancient Ba people, ancestors of today's Tujia and several other ethnic groups found in Hubei province, established a kingdom some 5,000 years ago.

Every September, thousands of Tujias from other parts of China travel to pay homage at the cradle of Tujia culture in Changyang, the guide said.

We would be visiting the Sacred Temple of King Lin Jun on Wuluozhongli Mountain by the Qingjiang River, a tributary of the Yangtze River, the next day, she said.

Dinner was a special spread of local dishes for the guests from afar. The delicious Qingjiang silver carp was strongly recommended. But what impressed me the most were the simple vegetables such as potatoes and tomatoes and the humble fried eggs.

They tasted so very different from the food in Beijing. The reason soon became clear.

"No fertilizers or pesticides are used. Locals wait for the produce to mature naturally. Nothing served on the table is hurriedly produced to make more money," said our guide.

Not surprisingly, when we left the dinner table, all the plates and bowls were empty.

After dinner, we were led in the dark to a two-storey building with a newly painted plaque hanging on one side of the gate that read, "Ziqiu Township Farmers Culture Centre."

We entered an auditorium full of locals adults and children waiting for some sort of stage show to begin.

At about 8 pm, the curtain went up to reveal a group of old musicians, each holding a Tujia style sanxian, or a three-stringed bowed instrument.

I later learned that the oldest members in the group were in their late 70s and the youngest in their early 50s.

Soon the auditorium was filled with beautiful music that sounded relaxing and joyous, even though the words and rhythm were totally new to us.

The songs were in the Tujia dialect and set to centuries-old folk music called nanqu, or Southern tunes.

This performance was followed by some teasing singing sessions between men and women, songs and dances about Tujia legends and historical figures, the "flower drum" dances and a dance usually done as a break from hard farm labour.

But the most intriguing performances were the melancholic ku jia reserved for weddings and the joyful sa ye er he, or tiao sang sung at funerals

The ku jia expresses the bride's sadness at having to leave her own family while the sa ye er he celebrates the moving on to another life.

Both of these customs struck us as peculiar, as crying at a wedding is considered ominous and unpleasant while at funerals, one is expected to solemnly pay one's respects to the deceased.

The tiao sang's rhythmic and cheerful singing and the dancing, performed only by the males, starts beside the coffin at night and in most cases lasts until the early next morning, Tian Yucheng, a local culture aficionado explained.

"The Tujia people view death very differently from the Han people" Tian said.

"Death is but another form of existence. We Tujia people believe while we are doing the tiao sang ritual, that the soul of the deceased is happily watching us in another world. We think it is a time for celebration when one dies, meaning passage to another way of living in another world," he said.

He also said these folk arts comprised the unique, intangible cultural heritage of the Tujia people, admitting that some performances such as the nanqu were now known only to a handful of senior Tujia people.

Tian had organized the show to make us aware of Tujia culture. We were greatly moved and surprised to learn that all those on stage were farmers who had come to greet us after an early supper.

"We are happy to put up a Tujia art show for our guests from Beijing. Hope you enjoy our farmers' show," said Tian Shousheng, 75, a nanqu performer, who is now schooling his son Tian Kefang in this kind of music.

Golden voice

Early next morning, we took a ferry to Henshan Township to see the famous Sacred Temple of Linjun on the Wuluozhongli Mountain.

The Qingjiang River was so clean that we could see small fish deep in the dark blue waters. The picturesque landscapes along the river thrilled us. An hour later, we were at the Wuluozhongli Mountain, which is actually a hill less than 300 metres high. It sits on an island covered in dense woods and reminded me of Guilin in the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region.

On top of the mountain is the Sacred Temple and Chixue Cave in which the earliest Tujia is believed to have come into being.

We also found a sacred stone adorned with tiger patters. The white tiger has long been a totem of the ancient Tujias and is now commonly found on a special type of local embroidery called xilan kapu.

A museum nearby has an interesting collection of fossils, wooden furniture and sculptures, cotton fabrics and old musical instruments reflecting the rich and varied culture of the Tujias in this area.

Our final stop was at the Duzhenwan Township where our last Tujia lunch turned out to be an unforgettable experience in the company of a local folk singer, Liu Kainan, 72.

His rich voice and versatile facial expressions left us spellbound.

Some of my friends stood up to take photographs, some hurried to find a digital recorder while others sat with their mouths and eyes wide open. Many hotels and restaurants in the area invite him to give performances for which he charges very little.

All too soon, it was time to leave.

Owing to a tight schedule, we missed visits to a popular Taoist temple on the Tianzhu Mountain, a wonderful waterfall, and a breath-taking course along the Danshui Brook, a steep and dangerous branch of the Qingjiang and much more.

But we returned to Yichang with the soulful Tujia tunes playing in our heads, their unique customs dancing before our eyes and the smells of their delicacies ingrained in our memories.

(China Daily 05/13/2006 page9)