The Remote Country of Women

by Hua Bai

  most solemn festival for the Mosuo to pray to their goddess.

  On that day men and women climb Mount Ganmu in pairs.

  Amiji Zhima invited Sunamei to go along. “Sunamei, you

  can go with us. Geda will get two horses ready on the eve of the festival.” A stout and honest man of forty, Geda was a horse driver and Zhima’s latest axiao.

  “Fine, Amiji.”

  The night before the festival, Geda brought over two

  horses. Tying the horses in the shed, he went straight into Zhima’s huagu. Behind the partition, Sunamei heard Amiji 8 2

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  Zhima and Geda frolic throughout the night. If they did

  not tell any jokes, why were they having such a good time?

  They bit each other like a pair of two-month-old piglets.

  Screaming and howling, they tumbled out of bed onto the

  floor.

  Sunamei did not hear the first crow of the roosters, for she had just sunk into a sound sleep. Amiji Zhima gently tapped at her door.

  “Get up, Sunamei. You may go ahead with Geda. I want

  to prepare some food before I leave.”

  “Amiji, please go with us. I want to ride with you,” said Sunamei as she was getting dressed.

  “No, Sunamei. You two go ahead.” She turned to Geda.

  “Be careful. Don’t scare my little Sunamei.”

  “That white horse of mine is steady enough.” Geda’s

  voice was quite gritty.

  “I don’t mean the white horse, I mean you, you black

  donkey.” Sunamei knew her amiji was teasing Geda for his swarthy complexion.

  Geda chuckled. Amiji Zhima slapped his back. Geda

  chuckled again. As Sunamei stepped out of her room, Geda grabbed her around the waist quite unexpectedly and flung her easily over his shoulder. Greatly surprised, she grasped his head. But when her hands touched his beard, a strange feeling made her let go instantly. She almost fell from his shoulder. Geda stretched out his other hand and supported her waist as he carried her down the stairs. Geda took the white horse from the shed, without stirrups or saddle. First he placed Sunamei on the horse and then led it toward the gate, which Zhima had already opened. Coming out of the

  gate, Sunamei laid her face against the horse’s sleek neck.

  Once outside, Geda jumped on the horse so swiftly and

  lightly that Sunamei was not aware that he was already

  behind her. Geda held Sunamei with his left hand as he let the horse trot very slowly, perhaps in order to give Amiji Zhima time to catch up.

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  As soon as Geda was mounted, Sunamei was enveloped

  by man’s strong, hot breath, a mixture of the bitter smell of tobacco, the sweet flavor of licorice roots, the hot taste of wine, and the thin, sour smell of sweat. Although it was the first time she had breathed such a mixture of air, she got used to it very soon, and it felt homely and pleasant. Perhaps it was just an accident that Geda covered her small right breast with his hand. Sunamei, however, became

  excited as well as embarrassed. Leaning her head against his open, hairy chest, she felt obliged to say something. “How nice it would be if Amiji could go together with us.”

  “She is waiting for an axiao she loves even better than me.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t believe me, but I know. Before daybreak, she

  can receive another axiao without delaying anything. My red horse is so fast that before we’re halfway there, she’ll catch up with us.”

  Actually, Sunamei did not doubt Geda’s words. Amiji

  Zhima’s beauty won her numerous axiao. But it was hard to imagine how Zhima’s heart could take in so many men.

  It was the hottest season of the year. Dawn was the

  coolest time of day. Promising crops whispered in the morning breeze. Geda started singing softly. His low but heavy voice echoed like a bronze bell. With his mouth against

  her left ear, Sunamei felt as if she were sitting in a huge cavern. Morning stars looked like dew hanging from the

  cliffs.

  I am visiting Mount Ganmu

  with my dear axiao

  as if we were drifting upon the clouds.…

  Sunamei had not learned how to sing in antiphonal style

  with men yet. After a pause, Geda sang the female part in a falsetto:

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  Green vines and oak trees twine together;

  Butterflies and flowers share their joy.

  Sunamei felt ashamed of herself. How could a skirt

  woman not know how to sing?

  What are you thinking, my sweetheart?

  Your beloved man is right by your side.

  Happiness leaves lingering ripples, my dear

  sweetheart.

  How dare the tranquil lake forget the orgy of

  the waterfall?

  Hand in hand we walk, sweetheart.

  The path is always too short for us.

  Sweetheart, I may wither someday like a flower.

  I hope you’ll collect my petals out of love.

  Geda’s falsetto turned sorrowful, like that of a wistful woman. But a moment later he became himself again and

  called to Sunamei.

  “Sunamei! Can you see Mount Ganmu now?”

  “Yes. On the horizon.” It was already sunrise. A giant

  lion was squatting beneath the heavenly curtain.

  “Does it look like a black lion?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Have you heard the tale of Ganmu?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to hear it?”

  “Yes.”

  When Geda loosened the reins in his hand, the horse got

  the message to slow down. Geda narrated with feeling into Sunamei’s ear:

  “Once upon a time, Black Bottom Dam was a flat prairie,

  and Lake Xienami was located in its center. All kinds of animals and birds inhabited the lake area. They lived in joy 8 5

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  and harmony. White swans, unfolding their wings, circled around and glided across the lake in pairs. The female and male monkeys, embracing each other, tumbled along the

  hill sides. Even tiny red dragonflies knew how to arch their bodies to join with one another, head to head and tail to tail.

  These beautiful sights caught the eye of a goddess who often bathed in the lake and of a god named Hawa who frequented the lakeside for fun. The two of them wanted to

  live like all other creatures in nature. The goddess took Hawa as her axiao, and Hawa took the goddess as his. They met during the day, swimming naked in the lake. When

  night came, they embraced on the grass. Their love for each other was beyond description.”

  Sunamei’s heart started shivering. Faintly she visualized that intimate, unspeakable scene. Geda continued:

  “One day, Hawa invited the goddess to meet him on the

  southern bank of the lake. He waited and waited until the stars came out, and dew fell on the grass like rain, until all that was left was a pale moon in the night sky. But the goddess failed to come, and Hawa was so sleepy that he could hardly keep his eyes open. As soon as he fell asleep, the goddess arrived. She was late because two other gods,

  Warubula and Zhezhi, had intercepted her on the way. With great effort she got rid of them and hurried to meet Hawa.

  But before she could explain why she was late and how

  Warubula and Zhezhi were waiting for her on the northern bank, the roosters crowed, cuckoos started singing, white swans spread their wings, the east grew light, and the dawn bloomed like a flower. Seeing one goddess and several gods still lingering in the human world, the angered sun issued a command forbidding them from retu
rning to heaven. They

  were nailed to the ground by the sunlight and petrified into mountains. Look, Mount Ganmu was the goddess, and surrounding her are Mount Hawa, Mount Warubula, and

  Mount Zhezhi. They are all waiting for the night, when

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  they can meet behind the back of the sun. When the jealous Warubula saw the goddess sleeping with Zhezhi, he flew

  into a great rage. With a fearful roar, he cut the thing off Zhezhi’s body, the thing a woman does not grow. From then on, the goddess ignored the jealous Warubula, forbidding him from approaching her. She fell in love with Mount

  Hedigu and wanted to sleep with him, and, when the tyrannical, jealous Warubula attempted to stop her, she said, ‘If a woman is not willing, stop your daydreams. No matter how much gold and silver you may possess or no matter how

  strong you are, I am my own mistress!’

  “Sunamei, this is the myth of our goddess. Do you like

  it?”

  “Yes, very much – but some places I don’t quite under-

  stand.”

  “Which places?”

  “Why does Warubula want to cut…the thing a woman

  does not grow… off Zhezhi’s body?”

  Geda burst out laughing, as if Sunamei had asked a most

  stupid question, confusing her even more.

  “Why can’t I ask this question? Why not? I should ask

  about whatever I don’t understand, shouldn’t I? Zhezhi was wearing pants, so it would be much easier to cut off his hand. Why did Warubula need to cut off that particular

  thing?”

  “You’ll know some day, when you have an axiao. ”

  Why would she need an axiao to gain such knowledge?

  Sunamei did not pursue the question further for fear of

  seeming even more stupid.

  In the east, a flood of rouge appeared. The parallel ditches at the foot of Mount Ganmu gradually came into sight.

  They resembled a Mosuo woman’s ruffled skirt.

  Pointing to the canyon between two mountain ridges on

  the way to Zhebo Village, Geda asked Sunamei, “See that?

  What does it look like?”

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  “Sorry, I can’t tell.”

  Geda stretched his right hand under Sunamei’s skirt and

  touched her legs. “Now do you see?”

  Geda’s suggestive act did trigger her imagination. The

  two ridges did resemble the supple, slender legs of a

  woman. A round mound protruded in the place where the

  two legs converge. Sunamei dragged Geda’s hand from

  beneath her skirt.

  “How does it feel?” Geda laughed crudely.

  “What’s all this laughing about?” Amiji drew up speed-

  ily on horseback. “What fun you are having.”

  “I’m trying to help Sunamei find the goddess’s legs, but she can’t figure it out.”

  Zhima looked at him askance. “When a woman looks at a

  woman, her eyes are, of course, less observant than those of a man who looks at a woman.”

  “Heh, heh!” Geda chuckled.

  “Heh?” Zhima mimicked him.

  When they reached the hilltop, the pilgrims had already

  made bonfires; wafts of white smoke rose to the sky. Lama and Daba were reading sacred texts and incantations. Their murmuring sounded like mosquitoes buzzing around flower

  bushes. Tying the horses to the trees, Geda followed Zhima and Sunamei to kowtow before the shrine of the goddess,

  who sat atop a stag equipped with a splendid leather saddle.

  She had a crown on her head, and she carried an arrow in one hand and a lotus flower in the other. The stag’s tail seemed to dance in the wind. Her face resembled the full moon and a vertical eye of wisdom grew between her eyebrows. Sunamei wanted to laugh but held back, for she suddenly

  remembered the goddess who caused violence among men.

  She guessed that the lotus flower in the goddess’ hand was meant to attract axiao with its fragrance. But why the arrow in her hand and the bow at her waist? Were they to punish Warubula for his sin of wounding Zhezhi? Sunamei felt the goddess’ appearance was tender and dignified, like that of 8 8

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  Amiji Zhima. After the ceremony, they rode behind groups of worshipers along the lake path and circled the lake once.

  Lovers started their singing dialogues. The songs they

  improvised became less and less familiar. Sunamei couldn’t fully appreciate them. Like creatures in twilight, women and men were all orgiastically intoxicated. Pairs of axiao were like two waterfalls rushing down the mountain, anxious to find a merging place so they could collide into a single surging wave and then lie together and float in the

  direction of the sunrise.

  In a woods carpeted with green grass, paired axiao

  embraced tightly, lying beneath the trees. The warm stars started glowing like embers. Twigs and vines drooped like curtains. Amiji Zhima and Geda were sleeping between the two horses. A tired Sunamei fell asleep as soon as she leaned against a twisted tree trunk. On awakening, she found her blouse wet through with sweat. Standing up, she shook the wild seeds from her skirt. A gust of cool wind swept past her. The stars calmly looked down over the hilly woods.

  Spurred by curiosity, Sunamei, now perhaps the only person awake, stepped gently as a shadow over the soft grass to observe the axiao sleeping. The first couple she met were Amiji Zhima and Geda, who were sleeping naked together,

  as if they did not know that stars gave light and that eyes, accustomed to darkness, could still see. Amiji Zhima was lying on her back, one leg bent slightly. Pillowing his head on Zhima’s shoulder, Geda seemed to be bending face down, snoring thunderously, with one hand on Zhima’s breast.

  Sunamei found Amiji’s sleeping pose very charming. The

  slender limbs below her waist indeed resembled the two

  mountain ridges near Zhebo Village, including the small, dark, swelling mound between. Amiji Zhima was as beautiful as the goddess. The horses, like two stone statues, were motionless, resting with their eyes shut. Sunamei wanted to leave them, yet her feet refused.

  Did having an axiao simply mean two people of different 8 9

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  sexes sticking together naked, with no fear of being seen or touched? As if struggling from a boy’s embrace, she pushed aside a sapling and walked away. She tried to avoid looking at those naked beings, those fishlike couples; yet it was impossible, for they were scattered everywhere. She even saw a pair rolling like one down the slope. They seemed to have forgotten how deep the canyon was. Had it been ten

  thousand feet deep, they still would not stop. Sunamei felt the urge to warn them. But her throat was too dry to make a sound. She could only watch helplessly as they rolled in slow motion down the slope. She saw their feet sway like fish tails.

  Sunamei wandered in the woods like a sleepwalker. Sud-

  denly, clusters of women and men’s begging cries and hysterical screams astonished her and chased her back to her original spot on staggering feet. Covering her burning

  cheeks and lying on the grass, she tried to collect herself.

  She could neither see nor hear anything. Tears trickled along her fingers to the grass. “I am not crying. Why should I cry?” Still the tears trickled. She did not know when they stopped. She saw herself riding a stag with an arrow in her left hand and a lotus flower in her right. She wore a tall, shining crown; the stag wore a necklace with bronze bells and red tufts. Flowery white clouds lifted the stag’s hooves.

  She heard the wind whistle past her. She laughed happily.

  Then she recalled that the goddess in the shrine did not l
augh flippantly with her mouth wide open, so she closed it.

  Mount Warubula gradually turned into a naked man with

  horns, laughing savagely, reaching out to stop her. She drew back her bow and shot an arrow at him. With an eerie howl, Warubula retreated and became a mountain again. Then,

  Mount Hawa appeared on her left, with a black, hairy chest.

  He was lying on the ground but sat up on seeing Sunamei.

  Clapping his hand on the grass by the lake, he invited her to sit down so he could tell her something. While Sunamei

  hesitated, Zhezhi appeared on her right with a troubled

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  face. Covering his genitals with his hand, he turned away from her. In the distance, Mount Hedigu glistened in the rosy sunlight. In the flood of golden rays, a handsome young man appeared, wearing a silver helmet and ancient armor.

  He reached out to her, smiling tenderly. A sudden excitement overwhelmed her and made her unable to hold the

  stag. She knew she was waiting for a man but had not

  expected it would be a charming prince. He was handsome

  and had good manners. Those naked men were too crude,

  although all men were naked before their axiao. She felt she loved Hedigu better; he was different from the others. The stag, who knew the human heart, dashed toward Hedigu.

  Sunamei threw down her bow and arrow, jumped off the

  stag in front of Hedigu, and plunged into his arms. Hedigu embraced her. Suddenly she grew very tall and could rest her head on his shoulder. She returned Hedigu’s embrace.

  Seeing the handsome Hedigu slowly close his eyes, she

  closed hers. Now Ami’s words rang in her ears: “Only love and the appreciation of love can produce happiness. Absence of love brings only sorrow.” “This must be love. I know

  what love is now.” Ami also had said, “Love is something that cannot be taught. One must experience love, body and soul.” “Now I am experiencing it, am I not?” Forget the

  past and shut out the world of colors. But what was she

  really going through? Did flames burst from her inner

  body? No, her emotions weren’t like flames but like the

  water of a thermal spring flowing through her body. No,

  not her body, but her soul. Body and soul were quivering, made smooth and pliant by the hot spring. Although reluctant to open her eyes, she knew Hedigu was quivering like her. Then she moaned, “Ami, I love! I know what love is.”