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China Elevator Stories
Generous Strangers in Shangri-la: The China I Used to Know
I visited a friend in Shangri-la in Yunnan Province in 2012.
07/11/2025
Ruth Silbermayr
Author
I arrived in Shangri-la in June 2012, where a friend — a man belonging to the Naxi minority — came to pick me up in a Chinese-brand car that could seat five people. It looked like a blend between a regular passenger car and a small pickup truck.
He welcomed me warmly; we hadn’t seen each other for about two years — since he had graduated from university in Kunming and I had returned to Vienna to finish my studies there. He had invited me to visit him in Shangri-la several times, and I had finally kept my promise, coming on his invitation.
That evening, he took me around the old town, which dated back more than a thousand years. It was still largely intact. We wandered through the narrow alleys, admiring the wooden houses that hosted shops, bars, and a few guesthouses. Some of his friends joined us, and I relished the social, welcoming atmosphere.
People in this part of China were exceptionally courteous toward guests. Over the following days, my friend’s friends offered to take me to various places, showing me around the town and its surroundings, and inviting me into their homes to meet their families.
I even attended a wedding banquet at a restaurant — one event among several that made up a wedding celebration lasting for days, spread across a few weeks. The newly married woman once took me along to a nearby furniture shop — not at all like IKEA — which sold low-quality furniture at inflated prices (to be honest, rather unattractive pieces). Yet she was pleased with the beds, cupboards, and tables on offer, and chose several for her new home.
Another friend, a reporter for the local news station, took me to a concert held in a stadium, and later to the annual horse-riding competition — a truly thrilling spectacle where Tibetans compete in speed and accuracy, shooting down balloons while racing across the field. The track lay against the dramatic backdrop of grasslands and mountains, and the Tibetan men competing were local celebrities, striking figures in their traditional attire and cowboy hats, which were not unlike those worn by cowboys in the West.
One evening, another friend invited me to dinner at his mother’s house, where I watched him play with a large crab scuttling across the floor before dropping it into a huge pot to cook.
My friend, along with his girlfriend and sister, also took me to the local monastery, where a monk offered to read my palm and tell my fortune. I declined, but watched as my friend’s sister paid him to look into her future.
I also spent time with his male friends, all of whom worked at a local high school, and played pool with those who didn’t mind playing with a woman. Some were more traditional — including my friend — and told me it wasn’t a game for women, while others were happy to play regardless.
Another friend invited me to his home, and later one of his female friends did the same. It is customary in this part of China — as in many others — to offer fruit to guests, and people were so genuinely welcoming that I spent no day alone or idle. As an introvert, all the social activity was almost overwhelming, and on my last day, I took great pleasure in walking alone through the grasslands near my friend’s apartment before leaving.
When I took the bus to Shangri-la from Kunming, a man I had met there had offered to drive me instead, saying he didn’t mind the distance. He was much older than I was, and I suspected that his motive was less about kindness and more about getting me into bed. I didn’t have to say anything, though — when my (platonic) friend learned that this man was still sending text messages and refusing to take “no” for an answer, he took my phone, called the man, and told him that he was my boyfriend and wouldn’t allow him to pick me up. That settled the matter quickly. I found this strategy both amusing and effective. Depending on the man, some were quicker than others to take a hint or to respect boundaries. Local men often knew how to handle such situations; they needed to say little, but made it clear they saw through a man’s intentions and were setting the necessary limits.
I truly enjoyed my time in Shangri-la, especially because I was welcomed into family and private life, and people were so generous with their time. Even if not everyone spoke much, it was fascinating to experience daily life in Shangri-la on such a personal level and to meet so many locals.
Have you ever been welcomed by strangers in China?