When I looked around my room I was thinking I’d seen cleaner hostels before, but at this point it didn’t matter because I slept like a rock, waking with some muscle soreness, a reminder from the day before.Today started with spicy noodle soup at Brother’s Liang, a famous brand chain in this area serving this traditional staple meal.

Another three hour-long bus ride up through picturesque Chinese terrace farms. At first I wondered why most of the plots were tilled but dry without crops. Then I found out that the area has been struck with a 60-year drought.

The bus deposited at a point 30minutes hike away from our destination. As ascended higher occasionally following the edge of a terraced plot, other local peoples joined us making their way to the Sunday service.

We were late, but that wouldn’t the Miao villagers at worship – they have an extended 3-4 hour service each Sunday, and very flexible. Although the service was well underway, they insisted on giving us a mid-day meal. The foods looked “different,” so students/teachers alike were somewhat hesitant. But as we started tasting we enjoyed every dish, even the black slimy looking chicken. Again we were reminded of the drought and that their garden plots were empty on the way up. It then occurred to us that all this food must have been specially purchased in the city in anticipation of our arrival. We were humbled. The fed us so richly out of their poverty.

After lunch we were ushered to our seats at a break in the service. The large church was packed. At first we didn’t realize our mistakes in choosing seats. After a pause and some hand motion from the usher, we looked around and saw we were breaking the protocol of “men sit on this side, women on the other.” Government-national laws about education and single official language became evident when Men sat on one side and women on the other. There were greetings from the pulpit, a small man (the Miao are all small in stature), having a shirt buttoned to the neck under an old worn black jacket. His face and smile were bright as he introduced us to the congregation.

We enjoyed three different choirs, five songs (one translated hymn that I recognized). The to our surprise ten accordion players came out (spanning a range of ages from teens to very old). We were treated to three pieces, one from Handel’s Messiah!Afterward, two students shared their testimony. Followed by a short messages from two teachers and a sermon. All this was done in Mandarin and I noticed that the people were paying close attention to everything.It was interesting to observe that the church was full, holding about 400 people or more. Just a few years earlier that same congregation was under 100. I was surprised to see so many women, maybe two for every man. (However, I’m thinking that the proportion is similar in America’s churches.) All the men wore jackets, some even to the point of tatters. The women kept the traditional dress with married women having their hair arranged like a crown on their heads.

The love shown in their faces. They sung very well; I noticed harmony which is oft not the case here in China. When it was time to go, it felt as though I was only sitting there 20-30 minutes, but in fact it had been two hours.We exited before their main sermon began as it would be difficult for some of our students sit through an 60+ minute message spoken in a tongue they do not understand (while the people are taught Mandarin in public school, they continue to communicate in their own ancient language).

After making our way down and back to Kunming it was 10;30pm. This time we broke down and ate at KFC (10:30pm) before crashing in our beds.