Google Me: How We Found Dr. Ho, a world-renowned herb specialist
There are many “must sees” in China that I have previously mentioned, but now I want to tell you how we met Dr. Ho, an herb specialist who became famous by a foreign travel writer many years ago. In fact, if you open many of the guide books on China, you will see Dr. Ho’s biography and clinic listed in the Lijiang section.
Here’s our story.
That morning, we rented bikes in old town Lijiang, which is a must for anyone visiting. We planned to take a bike ride in Lijiang’s country side (towards Yulong Snow Mountain) and stop by some temples on the way back. The phrase, “It’s like riding a bike” could not have been more appropriate since the last time I rode one was in 8th or 9th grade of high school. But I had to put all my trust in that truism. As the girls outfitted their bikes, I hoped on mine—at first wobbly—a bit rusty—and then, success! I secured my small messenger bag on me, folded our route map, checked my water supply, and applied my sunscreen. Then we were off from Old Town Lijiang, through New Town, and towards the mountains.
I probably can’t describe the intense feeling of freedom and awe as you take the path (both paved and unpaved). You bike along acres of farmland, and it is inevitable not to stop along the way to take photos of the landscape. The road takes you out of city life to bluer skies, mothers knitting alongside their babies and cows grazing. It even rained for a few minutes, but afterwards, we saw a rainbow that stretched far into the mountains.
Each of us would ride like bikers on the Tour De France, taking the lead over the group at various points during our ride. However, two hours into the ride, we were hitting some major uphill climbing. Steep. And after we stopped to ask some local security guards how far we had to go to our major destination, the Yuteng Temple, they told us it would be uphill for 3 kilometers.
Hmmm.
As a group, we decided to turn around and visit another temple that we passed, since it was late afternoon and we needed to eat dinner and return before it got dark. I knew I had gotten a good two-hour workout in, and it would be another two hour workout on the way back.
We visited a temple that housed the “Baisha Frescoes of Lijiang”. The frescoes were painted during the Ming Dynasty and damaged from the Cultural Revolution. You see a lot of black, red, yellow colors and I even noticed that some of the drawings of people depicted halos on their heads. A quick copy/paste from my ticket stub gives more information about the Frescoes, “The Baisha Frescoes are a very important historic and cultural research resource for the Naxi culture. The State Council listed it as the national preserved cultural relics...in 1997”
Also, here is one more interesting piece of information which Nancy told us. A very common Naxi last name is “mu” which, in Chinese, means“wood”. The reason Lijiang, which houses a lot of Naxi people, does not have walls around its city is because the Chinese character for “wood” can easily mean “trapped” (kun) if a box is written around the character for wood. Hence, Lijiang does not have walls boxing in the city.
Okay at this point, you’re probably saying, “Bring out Dr. Ho!” Well, I’m getting there! We finished visiting the temple and started exiting out, only to meet more touristy vendors. During that walk, Arlene noticed a clinic for a “Dr. Ho”. We entered this small white clinic, and the first thing you notice are hanging newspaper articles, business cards, and letters—all encased in sheet protectors. There were two backpacking tourists already there in a side room, talking to a Chinese guy. The floor was a bit dusty, but it had the look of a clinic: white floors and walls, and counter space. No one appeared in this main room.
We walked a bit further and looked around the room, curious at all the paperwork hanging from the ceiling and on the walls. I even saw some prescription sheets scattered along the countertops. I peered into what looked like a doorway to a backyard, and there he was, strolling through some of the tall herbs in the garden. In a crumpled white doctor’s overcoat, he bent over slightly to touch a leaf and hold it close to his nose. He had dark skin and had silver hair and I think a slight gray wiry goatee. Behind him, two women were tending to the garden.
And then, he realized that four Asian girls were staring at him through the doorway and suddenly he stood up, “welcome, welcome to my clinic!”
Instantly, a woman brought four cups of herbal tea for us, which tasted like licorice. Whenever one of us finished a cup, she would instantly appear again, for a refill.
Dr. Ho asked if we were tourists and we told him we were from the states. Even before we could ask, we started with the story that made him famous, when a foreign travel writer wrote about him in a book. He talked about his herbs, and about the people he’s met from all over the world to visit the clinic and even get some samples of herbs for their ailments. He pointed to batch of letters that asked Dr. Ho to send them herb medicine and to thank him for healing them.
Arlene made the bold move and mentioned her mother’s sore knee. In a flash, he took us into a room with shelves that were lined with red baskets. Each basket contained a pile of grounded herbs. Dr. Ho disappeared into the back and came out with a large piece of brown paper. He started going through the shelves and expertly grabbed handfuls of certain herbs and mixed it on the brown paper. He pulled out a sheet of instructions for Arlene and told her that the mixture would need to be put externally on the outside (not to be taken orally) on the knee for a couple of months. He then folded the brown paper and sealed it with a traditional Chinese stamp and his name (so airport customs would know what the powder was for).
After talking more with him, we thanked Dr. Ho with a small donation and took some photos of him. He told us that if we needed anything, including more herbs, to contact him. He told us, “Just Google me.”
Wow. It has become more than a noun-turned-verb. “Google me” is now used by an old Chinese doctor, in the rural outskirts of south west China. Dr. Ho probably said it best when he also told us: “The world is getting smaller now (as he referred to the information superhighway). So, just Google me”
I was a bit taken a back, eyebrows raised but smiled at the realization that Google is just the beginning of the pervasive nature of the internet and its ability to not just provide information but now connect the Chinese with the rest of the world, with implications being watched by the rest of the international community.
It was that type of conversation that I had on the bike ride back, which was nice and breezy and with most of the way downhill. I talked with Nancy a little bit more about the politics in China and about democracy, and student movements, education, and even a little on religious freedom. At what expense do you censor your population, for industrial development and unity? Or, is it needed in order to economically develop and hence, giving up some liberties is necessary to build your country? At what point after you reach those economic goals does transparency and respect for liberties occur? Is it encouraged or is it simply caused by the forces contributing to the liberalization of an economy? Ignorant voting population vs. informed populace. Did our own founding forefathers really trust the popular vote?
China is rapidly changing and I remember some good advice from a friend of mine who said, don’t pay for more than $0.50 (US dollars) in China. After China’s inclusion in the WTO, I’d say, don’t pay more than $4 or $5 (in US dollars) in China. But, I guess it depends on what you’re buying, and how well you bargain!
Well, I’ll leave you with those thoughts to ponder. As we returned to Old Town, tired, and immensely hungry, we turned in our bikes for headed for some good food at a local Naxi restaurant back. A few of us used the internet and “SKYPED” (a way to call free via the internet) and then finally, it was off to go to bed. We decided that tomorrow we would take it easy and lounge around. So, for now, it’s good night and until the next entry!
Here’s our story.
That morning, we rented bikes in old town Lijiang, which is a must for anyone visiting. We planned to take a bike ride in Lijiang’s country side (towards Yulong Snow Mountain) and stop by some temples on the way back. The phrase, “It’s like riding a bike” could not have been more appropriate since the last time I rode one was in 8th or 9th grade of high school. But I had to put all my trust in that truism. As the girls outfitted their bikes, I hoped on mine—at first wobbly—a bit rusty—and then, success! I secured my small messenger bag on me, folded our route map, checked my water supply, and applied my sunscreen. Then we were off from Old Town Lijiang, through New Town, and towards the mountains.
I probably can’t describe the intense feeling of freedom and awe as you take the path (both paved and unpaved). You bike along acres of farmland, and it is inevitable not to stop along the way to take photos of the landscape. The road takes you out of city life to bluer skies, mothers knitting alongside their babies and cows grazing. It even rained for a few minutes, but afterwards, we saw a rainbow that stretched far into the mountains.
Each of us would ride like bikers on the Tour De France, taking the lead over the group at various points during our ride. However, two hours into the ride, we were hitting some major uphill climbing. Steep. And after we stopped to ask some local security guards how far we had to go to our major destination, the Yuteng Temple, they told us it would be uphill for 3 kilometers.
Hmmm.
As a group, we decided to turn around and visit another temple that we passed, since it was late afternoon and we needed to eat dinner and return before it got dark. I knew I had gotten a good two-hour workout in, and it would be another two hour workout on the way back.
We visited a temple that housed the “Baisha Frescoes of Lijiang”. The frescoes were painted during the Ming Dynasty and damaged from the Cultural Revolution. You see a lot of black, red, yellow colors and I even noticed that some of the drawings of people depicted halos on their heads. A quick copy/paste from my ticket stub gives more information about the Frescoes, “The Baisha Frescoes are a very important historic and cultural research resource for the Naxi culture. The State Council listed it as the national preserved cultural relics...in 1997”
Also, here is one more interesting piece of information which Nancy told us. A very common Naxi last name is “mu” which, in Chinese, means“wood”. The reason Lijiang, which houses a lot of Naxi people, does not have walls around its city is because the Chinese character for “wood” can easily mean “trapped” (kun) if a box is written around the character for wood. Hence, Lijiang does not have walls boxing in the city.
Okay at this point, you’re probably saying, “Bring out Dr. Ho!” Well, I’m getting there! We finished visiting the temple and started exiting out, only to meet more touristy vendors. During that walk, Arlene noticed a clinic for a “Dr. Ho”. We entered this small white clinic, and the first thing you notice are hanging newspaper articles, business cards, and letters—all encased in sheet protectors. There were two backpacking tourists already there in a side room, talking to a Chinese guy. The floor was a bit dusty, but it had the look of a clinic: white floors and walls, and counter space. No one appeared in this main room.
We walked a bit further and looked around the room, curious at all the paperwork hanging from the ceiling and on the walls. I even saw some prescription sheets scattered along the countertops. I peered into what looked like a doorway to a backyard, and there he was, strolling through some of the tall herbs in the garden. In a crumpled white doctor’s overcoat, he bent over slightly to touch a leaf and hold it close to his nose. He had dark skin and had silver hair and I think a slight gray wiry goatee. Behind him, two women were tending to the garden.
And then, he realized that four Asian girls were staring at him through the doorway and suddenly he stood up, “welcome, welcome to my clinic!”
Instantly, a woman brought four cups of herbal tea for us, which tasted like licorice. Whenever one of us finished a cup, she would instantly appear again, for a refill.
Dr. Ho asked if we were tourists and we told him we were from the states. Even before we could ask, we started with the story that made him famous, when a foreign travel writer wrote about him in a book. He talked about his herbs, and about the people he’s met from all over the world to visit the clinic and even get some samples of herbs for their ailments. He pointed to batch of letters that asked Dr. Ho to send them herb medicine and to thank him for healing them.
Arlene made the bold move and mentioned her mother’s sore knee. In a flash, he took us into a room with shelves that were lined with red baskets. Each basket contained a pile of grounded herbs. Dr. Ho disappeared into the back and came out with a large piece of brown paper. He started going through the shelves and expertly grabbed handfuls of certain herbs and mixed it on the brown paper. He pulled out a sheet of instructions for Arlene and told her that the mixture would need to be put externally on the outside (not to be taken orally) on the knee for a couple of months. He then folded the brown paper and sealed it with a traditional Chinese stamp and his name (so airport customs would know what the powder was for).
After talking more with him, we thanked Dr. Ho with a small donation and took some photos of him. He told us that if we needed anything, including more herbs, to contact him. He told us, “Just Google me.”
Wow. It has become more than a noun-turned-verb. “Google me” is now used by an old Chinese doctor, in the rural outskirts of south west China. Dr. Ho probably said it best when he also told us: “The world is getting smaller now (as he referred to the information superhighway). So, just Google me”
I was a bit taken a back, eyebrows raised but smiled at the realization that Google is just the beginning of the pervasive nature of the internet and its ability to not just provide information but now connect the Chinese with the rest of the world, with implications being watched by the rest of the international community.
It was that type of conversation that I had on the bike ride back, which was nice and breezy and with most of the way downhill. I talked with Nancy a little bit more about the politics in China and about democracy, and student movements, education, and even a little on religious freedom. At what expense do you censor your population, for industrial development and unity? Or, is it needed in order to economically develop and hence, giving up some liberties is necessary to build your country? At what point after you reach those economic goals does transparency and respect for liberties occur? Is it encouraged or is it simply caused by the forces contributing to the liberalization of an economy? Ignorant voting population vs. informed populace. Did our own founding forefathers really trust the popular vote?
China is rapidly changing and I remember some good advice from a friend of mine who said, don’t pay for more than $0.50 (US dollars) in China. After China’s inclusion in the WTO, I’d say, don’t pay more than $4 or $5 (in US dollars) in China. But, I guess it depends on what you’re buying, and how well you bargain!
Well, I’ll leave you with those thoughts to ponder. As we returned to Old Town, tired, and immensely hungry, we turned in our bikes for headed for some good food at a local Naxi restaurant back. A few of us used the internet and “SKYPED” (a way to call free via the internet) and then finally, it was off to go to bed. We decided that tomorrow we would take it easy and lounge around. So, for now, it’s good night and until the next entry!
posted by RENEWED at
11:58 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home