I take a room in a typical Naxi home on a hill overlooking the Old Town. There is a central courtyard bounded on three sides by the living quarters and kitchen. The grandmother speaks Naxi dialect and very little Mandarin, wears traditional Naxi clothes and rules the household. The son dresses like Han Chinese, speaks both Naxi dialect and Mandarin, works in the evenings and potters about in his garden in the courtyard. The grand-daughter understands Naxi dialect but speaks only Mandarin, a trend that shows the slow decay of tradition.
Some traditions though are still very much alive.
Every Saturday evening a bonfire is lit in the market place around which the Naxi grannies along with a few Mosuo, Bai and tourists dance in circles in a social evening called gou huo wan hui. The music is bouncy and danceable. The grannies have a stately step, the younger ones prance boisterously, the tourists trip uncertainly. The circles, like life, grow bigger, break apart, form new ones, come together. After two or three hours the decaying fires and the deepening night brings everything to an end.