Chinese Annual Prose (2005)

Author: Wang Jianbing
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: The Wolf Flower on Pure Land
In recent years, seeking the dream of Shangri-La has become a fashionable trend among many travelers both at home and abroad. Humans are creatures who love to dream. Broadly speaking, dreams are the fantasy, ideals, pursuits, and hopes that arise from humans facing the hardships of the world and the pain of survival. Since September 14, 1997, when the Yunnan Provincial Government solemnly announced to the world that the Diqing Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture in the northwest of the province was the legendary Shangri-La, Diqing has become an aesthetic symbol that can provide spiritual nourishment and soul comfort. For me, the age when I spent my days in the realm of dreams and regarded dreams as the sunshine of life has long passed. I no longer want the elusive dreams to occupy my time and heart; however, in early summer 2004, I was inexplicably drawn into Shangri-La.
When it comes to "Shangri-La," we should thank the British writer James Hilton, who coined the term in his 1933 novel Lost Horizon. The word "Shangri-La" is both alluring to read and pleasant to hear. Lost Horizon tells a strange yet simple story: In the early 1930s, a riot broke out in Basok City, a country in South Asia. Consular officials Conway and Marston from the British Consulate, along with an American financial fraudster who had changed his name and a young female missionary, hastily fled in a private small plane, intending to fly to a city in Pakistan. During the flight, the four passengers discovered that the pilot had been replaced, and the plane had deviated from its original route. In reality, this was a premeditated hijacking by the highest lama of Shangri-La, who wanted the exceptionally spiritual and physical Conway to become his successor. At night, the plane landed in a narrow valley. The injured pilot, on his deathbed, told the four unharmed passengers that this was the Tibetan region of China and that they could only find food and shelter at the lamasery of Shangri-La. Just then, an elderly Han Chinese man named Zhang, who spoke fluent English, appeared in a sedan chair, accompanied by a dozen Tibetans. They took Conway and the others to the highest power center of Shangri-La—the lamasery.
The valleys of Shangri-La are home to thousands of residents, most of whom are Tibetans. Though they follow various religions such as Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism, and Bon, they are deeply connected and live as one family. The environment on this snow-covered plateau is breathtakingly beautiful, and the people and nature are in perfect harmony, like water and milk blending together. What is even more astonishing is that the villagers of Shangri-La all live to a very old age. Centenarians look like children with youthful faces and black hair, only eighteen or nineteen years old. The highest lama of Shangri-La is over two hundred and fifty years old and has ruled Shangri-La for over a century. Though he is like a willow in late autumn or a candle before the wind, his mind remains incredibly sharp, and he is well-versed in major events happening both in China and abroad. Even more astonishing is that these longevity-defying elders, once they leave this place, soon become hunched and frail, and some even return to Putuo and pass away.