On Sunday we went to a Christian Hmong village to celebrate their "Thanksgiving" festival. It's probably the poorest place I've ever been. Everybody sat on the ground outside of the church to listen to the choir sing. Chickens were running around everywhere and so were kids. Every house has corn drying out on the roof to save for the winter. For lunch, we basically had pieces of pork fat, rice, and some cabbage. It was a humbling experience. Also, there was not a single person there taller than I. Most of the women were far below five feet tall.
I am very thankful to be studying in Kunming where I have opportunities to take day trips to places like this. In Beijing, everything was new and everyone was Han. Here, I get to listen to tons of different languages and experience (to what is still a fairly shallow extent) other cultures. I think it's cool that the Hmong that escaped Laos and came to the US after the Vietnam War have, for the most part, not accepted Christianity, whereas the Hmong in China center their lives around the church.
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