Yina Town Travel Guide

Yina Town is located in Guizhou Province and is a historical and cultural city. It retains many original southwest-style buildings, and every flower, grass, and tree here is worth admiring and exploring its past and present. Here is a travel guide to Yina Town.

You have seen the vast ocean and the neon-lit cities, all perfect in your mind. But after experiencing the rural scenery, you will know what heaven on earth truly means.

It may not be as bustling as a metropolis and lack famous attractions, but its charm, exuding from its simplicity, can rival the grandeur of a city. City dwellers yearn for the countryside, to experience the leisurely rural scenery. With mountains as its backdrop, one can sip tea in the courtyard, savoring the tranquility of the forest. While the countryside offers more serenity than the city, its people are equally busy with life, albeit at a slower pace. Here, one can find a graceful tranquility and breathe in the naturally fragrant air. Rural life is simple, while city life is elaborate!

Yina is a place you can only find by zooming in, zooming in, and zooming in again on the map of China.

What kind of place is Yina? Looking at its literal meaning, we can see that “yi” refers to a terrain that extends slantingly, winding and continuous; “na” refers to a place, time or thing in the distance. Together, they mean a place that extends slantingly, winding and continuous. However, Yina is far from its literal meaning. What are the differences? Where lies the distance? What is worth seeking? Let’s approach it slowly, together, to lift the fog in our hearts.

To reach Yina, you can start from Weining City and head towards Zhaotong in Yunnan Province. 74 kilometers down the road is Yina Town. Through Wuli Gang, Xiaohai, Niu Jie, Guanfenghai, and Yeji Ping, you will arrive at Yina. If you don’t mind the distance and want to see a different landscape, you can also take in the rural scenery of Yina along the way. If you find this still not enough, you can visit Qingshan Village and Liziping, a village with green mountains and clear waters!

One route will lead you to my doorstep. You don’t need to worry about getting lost. Now that you know the route to Yina, many friends must be eager to go. Let’s journey to Yina together.

I am a native of Yina, born and raised here, so naturally, I live here. You don’t have to worry about getting lost in Yina. Before you get closer to Yina, many friends may still be reminiscing about the scenery along the way. Yes, no matter which route you take to Yina, you will be greeted by one or two green mountains. They are not very high, but they stand on either side of the road, high or low, like the children of a mountain, with no arrogance, just quietly guarding the people, vehicles, horses, cattle, sheep who pass by, all year round. Of course, they are also quietly waiting for you.

“Yina is not a poem, nor a painting. Naturally stepping into Yina, you won’t dream in a poem or get lost in a painting. But if you are interested in Yina, it is poetry and painting everywhere. Because, I can’t say it’s bad, it’s changing. If you judge it by high standards and high starting points, you will be disappointed; if you demand it with the splendor of the city and the new look of the new countryside, you will also be disappointed; if you observe it with the style of a water town and the scenery of a mountain village, you will be even more disappointed. Of course, it’s not completely without merit. It has its own unique charm, waiting for you to slowly lift its mysterious veil.

Yina, like all the villages you see, has the taste of a village. This taste is naturally earthy, the earthy taste of things grown in the soil. These include potatoes, corn, red beans, buckwheat, barley, soybeans, radishes, pumpkins, chili peppers, and so on. Of course, eating earthy flavors is also unique. To experience authentic earthy flavors, you have to visit a village like Yina. Because elsewhere, you won’t taste the flavors of Yina. If you want to experience farmhouse specialties, there are authentic dishes here:
corn rice, buckwheat rice, red bean sour soup, smoked cured meat, potato dumplings… “Why not visit Yina, 74 kilometers from Weining City, and experience the realness of rural charm and farmhouse flavors. Only in such villages can you truly escape the hustle and bustle.

Yina, like a girl hidden away in a secluded boudoir, unknown to the world. In spring, she tills, hoes, and prepares the land, sowing hope. In summer, she weeds, fertilizes, and cultivates, nurturing hope. In autumn, she harvests, binds, threshes, and stores, holding onto hope. In winter, she also works the land, plowing and planting for winter, awaiting hope. She is like a country girl, never leaving the village for a day throughout the year. Only when you arrive do the ripples in her heart begin to stir.

Yina is home to my ancestors, my parents, my neighbors, and my younger generation. Some have never left the village, some have left and returned, some returned and never left again, and some left and never came back. But they all think of Yina, of this land, of the unbreakable bonds of their village. This is passed down through generations, from them to us, Yina – a village where blood is thicker than water, has seeped into my very bones.

Every place has its own story. Yina is no exception. You are the protagonist of this story, and you can choose your supporting cast. The beginning, development, and climax of the story are up to you. The plot follows you, you can have a view at every step, or a step for every view, or you can move with the scenery and the steps, or the steps with the scenery. But the true scenery is not in your eyes, I think it’s already in your heart. As the saying goes, “The traveler’s intention is not in the scenery, but in the village.”

Stepping into Yina, the fog in your heart slowly dissipates. The village suddenly seems closer, with earthen houses, haphazardly arranged, welcoming you in. They lack ornate exteriors, graceful layouts, or luxurious decorations. However, the simplicity, weight, and tranquility of rural homes are unmatched by splendor. Scattered amidst the earthen houses are red brick houses, adding a touch of color. It’s as if they are telling people that the village’s face is transforming from the red of the red earth to the red of the red brick walls. However, everything is not that fast, our villagers don’t have that much energy to study this red.
They are more dedicated to cultivating their red land, interacting with the land throughout the four seasons. The houses in Yina are mostly made of earthen walls, with some wooden structures and red brick houses. Of course, thatched houses are rarely seen. If you want to experience rural life, why not stay a night in an earthen house and truly experience the relaxed life of having tiles above and earth below.

Stepping into Yina, you step into a leisurely time. Work the fields and plant crops with the villagers, eat and chat with them, herd livestock and play the flute with them, and quietly wait for the sun to set and the night to fall. Of course, you can also enjoy the spring breeze, bathe in the summer rain, watch the autumn mist, and listen to the winter snow. You can also visit the Yina market to experience the bustle, buy some local products, or just wander around. In the market, you can feel the joy of the villagers firsthand, experience the liveliness of a rural market, and discover a different kind of folk culture. As long as you are willing, Yina is here, 74 kilometers from Weining City and 42 kilometers from Zhaotong City in Yunnan.

There are peach orchards, apple orchards, vegetable gardens, and of course, fields. The fields may not be as grand as the ones described by Tao Yuanming, but in my heart, they surpass even Tao’s Garden. Because here, there are nearly 30,000 acres of cornfields, their golden hue adorning all of Yina like gold, especially in autumn. The gold gleams and shimmers, swaying in the autumn wind. If you get closer, you will surely smell the corn before you eat it, your mouth watering for the taste of autumn. Of course, you can also savor the local apples and other fruits of Yina. A visit to Yina in autumn will surely not disappoint.

Yina has so much to tell you. Maybe it’s unremarkable, unknown to many; maybe it’s nameless, unvisited by many; maybe it’s distant, untouched by many. But my friend, if you have a fondness for the countryside, an affection for the local dialect, a love for the local customs, a longing for the countryside, then Yina can be your first stop on your journey home. Whether you are just passing through or experiencing rural life, you can come directly to my house. I will welcome you with the warmest hospitality of the countryside. Welcome, guests from all directions! Come and visit my home. If you come to Weining but don’t visit Yina, you won’t experience local customs; if you come to Weining but don’t visit Yina, you won’t feel the local dialect; if you come to Weining but don’t visit Yina, you won’t taste the local wine. To perceive Yina, to experience Yina, to savor Yina, you must step into Yina. Yina is a state of mind, a taste, a leisure activity, and a realm.

Here, a friend awaits your arrival. Welcome to my home! I will take you to experience the flavors of the countryside,

Rural life, no matter when, no matter what season, always has a unique and charming scenery!

Here is the spring with its blooming flowers and verdant willows. This is a village where fruit trees line the streets, with picturesque bridges, flowing streams, and traditional houses. As the sun sets, by the river in the village, women are chatting and washing clothes. In the soft twilight, their faces seem to reflect the pure smiles of rural folk. At this moment, you can’t help but think of the idyllic scene of “bridges, flowing streams, and traditional houses.” The countryside is inseparable from bridges, houses, and the very people who make it up. It’s precisely those bridges, streams, and simple farmhouses that fill the countryside with simplicity and harmony.

Especially in March, after a few spring showers, the trees sprout tender green buds. In the morning, you can stroll under the willows just bursting with new life, listening to the clear chirping of the cuckoo birds, so melodious, so enchanting. Young pine trees, emerald green, stand tall and graceful. The green grass is everywhere, a testament to the arrival of spring. Here, the peach blossoms and apricot blossoms are “in full bloom, a kaleidoscope of vibrant flowers vying for attention, attracting butterflies and bees, leaving one in a blissful daze. This is spring.

This is the time of the “mangzhong” season in the countryside, when farmers are busy with spring sowing. They start by preparing the land, harrowing it, planting potatoes, then planting corn, a bustling scene of activity. This is the life of a farmer. Our farmers’ lives are:

Spring will soon pass, giving way to the summer of lush green trees. The warm summer is a good time for crops to grow. For rural people, the weather determines the harvest, and farming determines their fate. This is the chance for farmers to change their lives. I understand this deeply, because I am a farmer myself. As a child, I sat under big trees, enjoying the cool shade, watching my parents toil in the fields. So, when I think of life in the countryside, my pen can’t help but write. Farmers’ lives are simple, honest, and free.

As dusk descends, the tranquil village comes alive. Farmers return from the fields, having finished their work, while women prepare dinner, and children, returning from school, play and frolic in front of their houses. At this time, the frogs in the fields also sing their praises, celebrating the farmers’ busy day and accompanying the children’s joy. In the evening, if you go out to enjoy the cool air, you will see fireflies twinkling by the stream. The stream, fed by the Longtan spring, is as clear as the water of the Heavenly Pool. Dip your hand into the water, and the splashes are like countless white lotus blossoms in bloom. Here, on summer nights, the countryside is filled with the chorus of frogs, the entire village lulled to sleep by the soothing lullaby of nature.

Have you ever experienced the countryside? Have I awakened your memories? Do you see the country roads in your mind? Do you love the countryside?

Time flies, quickly filling a thousand chapters. In a blink of an eye, it is autumn. “I will show you what autumn feels like: the azure sky of autumn, high and clear, the air crisp and refreshing. “You will see lively children sitting on the hillside, watching the geese fly south. They chirp and squawk, forming a single line, then a line of three, a beautiful sight. Their cries linger in your mind. As the ancient saying goes, “A man leaves behind his name, a goose leaves behind its cry.” It’s so true.

Autumn slowly arrives, with its heartwarming and romantic rural scenery, its poetic mountains and waters. The sunset is the most beautiful scenery of the countryside. In the glow of the sunset, everything is bathed in gold. Look, the world of this village is adorned in gold by the autumn wind and the sunset. The leaves of the willow trees in the northeast are like gold, shimmering and swaying, like the money trees in dreams. Occasionally, “a gust of autumn wind blows, sweeping away the yellow leaves from the trees. One leaf falls, “and the world knows it’s autumn. At this moment, the autumn wind rises, how do you feel? The leaves depart, not because the trees don’t want to hold on, but because the wind yearns for them. This is the sadness of autumn, the leaves’ departure, that scene is so desolate! (Autumn wind sweeps fallen leaves)

The yellow leaves on the trees want to stay for the winter, but they can’t resist the relentless wind. They are swept down, fluttering in the breeze, the cool autumn wind heralds the coming winter. The leaves that remain on the trees are but withered remnants clinging on. Let everyone know, fallen leaves return to their roots.

Against the backdrop of fluffy white clouds, they are especially striking. Stepping into the orchard, you are met with the intoxicating aroma of fruit, making your mouth water. Red apples hang heavy on the branches, crystal clear grapes, translucent and beautiful, making it hard to put them down. What I remember most fondly is the best mooncake I ate 20 years ago, made by my own family. The taste is still with me! When the lunar calendar approaches the 7th month, green corn is ready, and green beans are ready. My parents would take me to the fields, bringing home corn and picking beans. We would grind them into a paste with a stone mill and make a sweet glutinous rice cake. This golden and sweet rice cake was our mooncake during the Mid-Autumn Festival,

We only made it once or twice a year, and we had some left over until the 15th. As for the 15th of August, there were no fancy meals or delicious dishes. On that day, we would simmer a pot of pig trotters, fry a pot of crispy pork, make a pot of red bean and sauerkraut soup, stir-fry a dish of cured meat, boil a pot of melon and red beans, steam a pot of corn rice, and brew a pot of green beans. We would move the table outside, set out the food, and have our so-called mooncakes. The whole family would sit in the courtyard, gnawing on pig trotters, eating mooncakes, “admiring the beautiful moonlit scene. The bright moonlight illuminated the Mid-Autumn Night. Under the silent night sky, a gentle breeze blew. Suddenly, “a leaf fell with a soft “whoosh.” This rhythm, felt under the natural night sky, is so delightful, what a joyous Mid-Autumn Festival!

August is also the time for the autumn harvest. During this time, you pray for good weather to dry the corn cobs so that the kernels are plump. It’s time to get busy! Cutting corn at night, peeling corn during the day, digging potatoes, picking melons, pulling beans, cutting buckwheat, harvesting barley, transporting them to the threshing ground, threshing, drying, and storing them. If it rains or thunders, it’s a panic! You can’t let your hard-earned harvest be “swept away by the wind and rain.”

After the autumn harvest, winter arrives with its swirling snow. The winter here is bleak, with piercing winds and a snowy wasteland. Children in the village build snowmen, have snowball fights, and throw small pebbles diagonally into the lake, watching them whiz through the air. Even with heavy snowfall, the warmth of the countryside remains. Now, in the south, we don’t have snow like that. We only get a bit of snow in late winter, adding a touch of charm to the New Year’s celebrations. After a year of hard work, why not celebrate?

The arrival of the Spring Festival marks the end of another year. The air is filled with a strong Chinese New Year spirit.

As a child, I always looked forward to the New Year. My friends and I would play and frolic together in groups of three or five. The cold of the twelfth lunar month didn’t bother us, because we knew the New Year was coming, and it was always fun and exciting. Carrots and peanuts for dinner! In those days, every mother was busy in the depths of winter, making the most of sunny days to wash clothes and prepare flour. At night, under dim lights, they would sew clothes and shoes for the entire family for the New Year. Around the 20th of the twelfth lunar month, things got even busier: slaughtering pigs, stuffing sausages, smoking cured meat, making malt sugar, pressing tofu, frying crispy pork, and making steamed corn cakes. We also had to visit relatives and friends, drink wine, and entertain guests. These are all the flavors of the New Year in our hometown in Weining.

The adults worked day and night, all for the New Year. They rushed and hurried, making it to the Little New Year (the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month). In those days without television, computers, or cell phones, in the true rural New Year’s Eve when snowflakes occasionally danced, we enjoyed the joy and wildness, a deep-seated part of our lives that cannot be erased!

Nowadays, our material life is like the New Year every day, not worried about having no oil, but bombarded with advertisements about eating vegetarian, dieting, and eating coarse grains. It’s as if we’ve grown weary of the simple life of vegetarianism and coarse clothing, and now it’s become the healthiest way to live. Now, with the urbanization of villages and towns, rapid and convenient transportation, and the proliferation of information, the flavor of the Chinese New Year is fading. The New Year is just about endless eating and drinking. Over a decade ago, everyone would gather around the Spring Festival Gala, but now the excitement is fading. People are confused, why is the New Year becoming less flavorful? In fact, if your roots are still in the countryside, if your elders and ancestors are still there, you will truly feel that the authentic flavor of the Chinese New Year is still alive and strong in the countryside.

You don’t believe me? “Just look at the bustling crowds of the “Spring Festival Travel Rush” and the slow-moving vehicles on the narrow country roads, carefully navigating while greeting each other with exaggerated enthusiasm, “Hey! You’re back? You’re back!”

No matter how bustling and convenient the metropolis is, no matter how rich and diverse city life is, the glitz and glamour cannot extinguish the passion to return home. Seeing that village on the map of China, invisible to the naked eye, with its wisps of smoke rising and swirling, that is the rustic house, “my home!” That elderly figure, beside the firewood stove, stirring malt sugar over the fire, hands outstretched and hopeful, those are my parents. It is their hope and their waiting that drives me, a migrant worker, to work tirelessly, to leave my hometown without fear, to brave the crowds, and to return home. I don’t need a reason to go home!

“You’re back!” Suddenly, the quiet countryside becomes lively, bustling, and noisy. Fireworks burst into bloom. After a year, I can touch, be close to, and feel the intimacy of those green mountains and clear waters, those fields my parents have painstakingly cultivated. The warmth of the New Year’s dinner weaves together the coming and going between city and countryside.

Modern traditions, eating and drinking our fill, laughing and chatting, the whole family gathers together, savoring the malt sugar we made ourselves, its sweetness permeating the heart and soul. The air is filled with peace, warmth, and health. The smoke from the firewood drifts out of the old house, into the quiet night sky of the village, and into the enduring and indelible national sentiment woven into the marrow of Chinese people – It’s the New Year!

To hear about it, to see it, is not as good as to taste it! This humble article takes you to experience the rural scenery, to feel the changing seasons, to enter a world of poetry and painting, to understand rural culture, and to reminisce about childhood memories.