Explore Hani Rice Terraces, stairways to heaven in China

Writer:   |  Editor: Stephanie Yang  |  From: Shenzhen Daily  |  Updated: 2021-11-29
咪乐|成人|直播 《通知》要求,严格报考条件和资格审核。

It is often said that the Great Wall of China is the only man-made object visible from space. It’s not true, of course; the structure is mostly no wider than a country road. But if the unaided human eye really can spot some of Earth’s engineered marvels from low orbit, then in China they must surely include the Honghe Hani Rice Terraces.

The sprawling terraces in Hani, Yunnan, stack up over 160 square kilometers to create one of the most spectacular landscapes on the planet. File photos

Hacked from mountains in the country’s southwestern Yunnan Province, the sprawling terraces — hundreds of thousands of them — stack up over 160 square kilometers to create one of the most spectacular and jaw-dropping landscapes on the planet.

What’s more, through the massive, multi-generational engineering project that created the staircase-like terraces, the local Hani people — one of China’s 55 ethnic minorities — have harnessed the local environment for the benefit of the entire community.

“Since ancient times, Hani people have built ditches and canals to divert spring water from mountains and forests to irrigate terraced fields,” said A Xiaoying, a Yunnan-based guide with specialist tour company China Highlights. “The amount of ditches required has been huge, needing a great deal of manpower and material resources, which individuals or villages could not afford independently.”

Hani women walk on the edge of a terrace field in Hani, Yunnan. Hani people are still doing the hard farm work by hand.

Refined through trial and error over more than a millennium, the rice terraces are an inspiring example of an entire community working symbiotically with nature, with land use arranged by elevation into distinct ecological zones. Rainfall and moisture from dense mountain fog are collected in forested catchment areas high on the slopes, recharging ground water; spring water is channeled to irrigate the terraces; pooled water evaporates to form clouds; and clouds gather to shed rain on the high forests. The hydrologic cycle then repeats ad infinitum.

“The Hani people have always lived in harmony with nature, forming a living environment with forests on the top, villages in the middle, terraces lower down and water systems such as rivers running through, thus creating a unique ecosystem of ‘four elements’ — forests, villages, terraces and water systems,” A said.

This strategy offers sustainable benefits not only in rice cultivation, but also in everything from timber, vegetable and fruit production to duck breeding, fish farming and the gathering of herbs employed in traditional medicines. The terraces are, effectively, the Hani’s year-round larder.

Ducks and birds rest in the terraced fields in Hani.

It is believed that the Hani arrived in the Ailao mountains, close to Yunnan’s modern border with Vietnam, around the 3rd century, having migrated south from the harsh, barren and unforgiving Qinghai-Tibetan Plateau. They were so enamored by what they found there — fertile land, mild climate, plentiful rainfall — that they chose to put down roots.

Hani farmers began carving the terraces out of the mountains during the Tang Dynasty (618-907), with their distinctive use of land recounted in handed-down accounts. The terraces have been tended ever since, climbing from riverbank locations at less than 500 meters above sea level to cloud-shrouded heights of more than 1,800 meters, and on inclines as steep as 70 degrees. The oft-abused description “stairways to heaven” is most apt here.

Even more impressive, perhaps, is that the terraces have always been carved by hand, and that the construction methods used today are the same as those of the Hani’s ancestors.

“You can’t mechanize the terraces,” explained American ethnographer Jim Goodman, author of “Yunnan: China South of the Clouds,” who has decades of experience interacting with the area’s tribal peoples. “You can’t use tractors or other machines because of their shape and location. And they’re often knee-deep with water. So, the Hani are still using buffalo or doing the hard work by hand, using the same picks and hoes and hand tools that they’ve used for hundreds of years.”

Despite being gradually extended with each planting season, Hani Terraces has remained largely hidden from the rest of the world for centuries. A rare outsider account came in the 1890s, when Prince Henri of Orléans led a French expedition from Vietnam to Yunnan, searching for the source of the Irrawaddy River that bisects Burma.

“The hillsides here were covered two-thirds of their height with rice fields, rising in regular terraces, over which water trickled in a series of cascades that glittered like glass in the sun,” Henri wrote, adding, “This method of irrigation was quite a work of art, all the embankments being thrown up by hand or stomped by foot.”

In the early 1920s, American Harry A. Franck — one of the foremost travel writers of the time — also slipped into Yunnan from Vietnam, watching from the window as his train chugged through the rugged landscape along the French-built, narrow-gauge railway. “There are terraces everywhere, steeper than stairways, long, but as narrow as they are high, the mountains about them mirrored in new rice fields,” Franck gushed in his book “Roving Through Southern China” (1925).

But then, kicking off in the 1930s, with China’s long wars and turmoils, the mountainous region became off limits for foreigners, only reopening in the ’80s. Nobody paid much attention until the 2000s, with the arrival of new tarmac roads and a local authority determined to get the terraces highlighted on UNESCO’s World Heritage List, which was finally achieved in 2013.

In the past decade, keeping such a topographical oddity under wraps has been impossible, of course, with well-heeled photography enthusiasts from China’s affluent cities, converging on the flooded terraces, capturing the mind-blowing scenes in megapixels and then flooding social media with them.

Though the terraces shimmer a vibrant emerald in the summer growing season, the landscape is at its most photogenic from November to late April, when the waterlogged terraces become natural mirrors that glow in shades of indigo and tangerine, in gold, turquoise and magenta, with every sunrise and sunset. Farmers and water buffalo occasionally lumber by in pleasing silhouette.

In a time of shrinking natural resources globally, Goodman says the Hani can give the world lessons in land management, as well as in how to live in harmony with the environment.