Baobei: Our Crew

We came to Guizhou looking for craft.

There were five of us: Jess, our photographer and videographer; C. Rose, researcher and connector of dots; Lucien, baggage carrier, baby chariot and accidental messiah of village children; me, translating, organizing and constantly asking, “Can we go there?”; and Mei Mei, one year old and riding shotgun for all of it.

We traveled by train and car, through cities and villages, across mountains and into valleys. We ate whatever was put in front of us. We got lost. We carried too much stuff. We collected objects that felt important. We followed leads without knowing where they led. We just kept going. Because the things we had come to find were definitely not waiting in plain sight. 

In Zhaoxing, we experienced a Dong village transformed by tourism, and then went looking for the people still weaving and dyeing beyond its main streets. In Danzhai, we walked through Wanda Town, where ethnic culture had been gathered into a strange tourism destination... and found ourselves wondering what happens when craft is separated from the world that created it.

We learned from Yanmei, The Carrier, who could look at piles of antique cloth and tell us the story inside each layer. We saw papermakers carrying nineteen generations of knowledge. We found Lan Lan, who returned to her village and created new reasons for women to weave again. We met Liu Yong, who had spent more than fifty years collecting, studying and living among the things other people made.

The deeper we looked the more we found. And a persistent, unshakable thought began to grow inside of me. We weren't the keepers of these traditions. It is not our responsibility to preserve them, or judge them, or try to "fix" them. But there is another important role we can play.

We can go looking. We can ask who made something instead of just asking how much it costs. We can learn why a motif looks the way it does. We can buy from the people who still know how to make it. We can wear it, live with it, tell its story and help create a reason for someone to make another one.

Craft doesn't continue by virtue of being old or beautiful. It continues when it remains meaningful: to the people who make it, of course, but also to the people on the other side who still care enough to seek it out.

Guizhou reminded me that there is no end to the thread. One leads to another. And another. And all the while, Mei Mei was there with us. One year old. Nuzzled against my chest, passed between arms, carried through endless train stations, fed unfamiliar foods and constantly smiled at. She became our little bridge, the common denominator, to almost everyone we met. Our collective humanity in the form of a small, expressive child. 

Now she doesn't even remember this trip. But my own relationship with China also began because someone brought me along. My mother introduced me to this world before I could understand the depth of a homecoming. Years later, I found my own reasons to return to this place and take a path she couldn't have predicted.

Continuation isn't deciding what the next generation will carry. It's making sure there is still something there for them to encounter. It's giving them the chance to decide for themselves.

And then there is you. Yes, you. If you're reading this, you have made it through fifteen stories (!) with us. You've met makers in mountain villages, watched egg whites smear onto fabric, learned the meanings of ancient motifs, and stayed with some complicated questions about what happens to tradition when the world around it changes.

Your attention matters too. Because attention is where value begins. And if there is value, there is a reason to keep making. So this last story isn't really about an ending... It's about all of us continuing to look... 

Thank you to Lucien, C. Rose, Jess and Mei Mei for going down every road with me. Thank you Mama for everything else. 

And thank you for following the thread with us ~ Endless love and gratitude. 

Creative Direction: Kelly Wang Shanahan (@theziran)
Photography: Jess Foley (@fauxly)

Shot in Guizhou, China. April 2024.