Hair-raising journey to reach rural Internet celebrity

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05:00

Nothing but nerves as our car winds up the mountainside on our way to the village.

Up, down, around – it seems like we are on a treacherous trail for the next two hours to get to our destination.

Most of the journey is already behind us by now. We flew three hours from Beijing to Guiyang in southwestern China, then drove four more hours to Jianhe where we stayed the night.

We are on our way to shoot a story about an Internet celebrity, 25-year-old Cao Huan, who lives deep in the mountains – home of the Miao ethnic group. The idea of an Internet celebrity in a place where there is no indoor plumbing, let alone full online access, is an interesting phenomenon. (Please see accompanying video)

My nerves, at this point in the journey, are not about the story itself. Instead, about the two-hour drive through the mountains to get to Cao’s village of Zhanghan.

Our driver seemed impatient, constantly swerving into the oncoming lane to get around slow trucks or scooters. He often drove dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

A solid 20 percent of roadway did not have barriers to protect from driving over the edge (that is my best guesstimate anyway). What’s worse, it seemed the higher up the mountain we went, the fewer the barriers.

I’ve never been so frightened, with my life in the hands of an unfamiliar rental car driver.

I caught the speedometer; 80kph on this narrow winding road is WAY too fast if you ask me.

Tears start welling up as I’m also laughing out of pure anxiety.

“I have a son!” “I don’t want to die!” (I realize the drama here, but I was legitimately scared.)

The producer and photographer with me are laughing as they are unfazed by what to me is reckless driving.

The only comfort the driver gives me is when he lays on the horn coming around a blind bend.

I told my producer that we have to slow down. The anxiety building in my gut made me worried about getting physically sick. The producer relays my feelings to the driver (I think) and I see the driver smiling. He puts on the break a bit to slow down.

(Again, I’m realizing at this point that I must seem like an oversensitive American.)

In between the driving madness, I try to take in the view which is breathtaking.

So much green – the trees blanketing the mountains, the pristine rice fields. The mist at the mountaintops is beautifully eerie.

(As quickly as I appreciate the scenery, I realize how high up we are, and Oh my god, are we going to go off the edge of this cliff?)

Out of nowhere, I see a basketball court built into the side of the mountain.

How on earth...?

The village of Zhanghan is beautiful.

Home to roughly 200 large families of 10 people each.

I’m told that many of them, especially the children, had never seen a foreigner like me before. So, I understood when the children stopped and stared.

When school let out, children dotted the dirt roads as they walked home. Some dropped off their backpacks to pick up their roosters.

I watched three young boys walked their roosters, on what seemed like leashes, around the village. Then they stopped on a bridge and coaxed the birds to fight.

Entertainment comes in interesting forms.

After a couple of hours in the village, Cao’s mother beckoned us to the kitchen where she had made us all an incredible spread. There was a hot pot of mutton that was delicious.

We all sat on tiny wooden stools around a giant slab of stone and ate and talked.

Or rather just communicated our individual satisfaction (remember between the Miao dialect, Mandarin and English, there were essentially three languages barriers here). Everyone was smiling as we filled our bellies.

Cao’s father poured homemade Baiju (liquor) for us all. I had never had it.

They all wanted to watch me take my first sip. When the alcohol hit my throat, it stung a little – this stuff was strong! I let out a “Yip!” and the circle of people laughed out loud.

Before we left, Cao’s mother insisted on dressing me in a traditional Miao outfit for an impromptu photo shoot. The gorgeous headdress made of full silver was ornate and surprisingly light.

(The Miao people are known for their incredibly detailed work with silver.)

I soon learned that this traditional outfit is also considered their family heirloom.

I felt honored to wear it but nervous to damage it in any way so I was careful while I moved around it until I learned that the Miao women dance in these outfits.

So in order for me to truly honor this honor they bestowed upon me… I did a little dance.

It was the image of that moment that I carried with me to get me through the two-hour drive back down the mountain, which was rather less frightening.