BY day three of our trip to Guizhou in China, I had caught up on enough sleep to appreciate traveling at 266 kilometres per hour.
After two nights at Guizhou Park Hotel, we were heading to Zhaoxing by high-speed train to Congjiang. Yesterday’s bridge had shown us how Guizhou connected its valleys; now came the railway.
My jaw dropped when we arrived at Guiyang North Railway Station. We were catching a train, but the building felt more like an airport-and, to my eyes, a more impressive one than the terminal we had left in Manila.
Perhaps I had brought the wrong expectations. Back home we only have the MRT and LRT, with just the concourse platforms and ticketing booths. Only those few connected to malls were more than just stations.
Guiyang North was a major departure point in its own right, with a scale that made me stop and look around. Hopefully, our subway stations will at least be good-if and when they finally open.
Guiyang North opened in 2014, alongside the Guiyang-Guangzhou high-speed railway, Guizhou’s first high-speed rail line. What looked relatively new to me had already been serving passengers for more than a decade. The station has 15 platforms and 32 tracks, serving a network that includes routes toward Guangzhou, Shanghai, Kunming, Chongqing and Chengdu. It also connects with Guiyang’s urban transport system, allowing passengers to continue their journeys beyond the railway station.
Our itinerary listed train D1857, departing Guiyang North at 10:05 am. In about an hour and 39 minutes, we would reach Congjiang, where a road transfer would take us onward to Zhaoxing. I kept thinking about how much easier it would be to visit places beyond Manila if we had dependable rail connections like this. Yes, we had the PNR system but that was decades ago and just part of history. A shorter journey could mean an extra afternoon at the destination, rather than another stretch of the holiday spent on the road.
Once aboard, I watched the speed display until it reached 266 km/h. The ride was so steady that the number seemed at odds with how little movement I felt inside the carriage and before I could doze off, we were already at Congjiang.
Outside, it looked like we traveled back to the past, where traditional architectural details signaled the change in surroundings. We boarded our road transfer, and my attention shifted from the train’s speed to the structures outside.
Our next base was Zhaoxing Hotel; again it was a relatively new hotel but made to resemble old architecture. After settling in and having lunch, we were ready to meet the people whose architecture had already caught our attention.
The Dong and the drum towers
Zhaoxing Dong Village is in Liping County. The Dong and Miao are separate ethnic peoples, with their own languages, histories and traditions. Over the next two days, we would get an introduction to both.
The entrance looked like the gateway to an ancient village straight out of a Chinese microdrama. I thought we had arrived, but this was only the shuttle drop-off point; the village itself was still a few minutes away.
As at Huangguoshu Waterfall, there was plenty to look at before we reached the main sights. Landscaped paths, rice fields and views of the surrounding mountains made the approach worth slowing down for. They had clearly gone to considerable lengths to make the whole visit worth the journey, beginning well before we reached the village streets.
Zhaoxing traces its history to the Northern Song Dynasty, roughly a thousand years ago. The village’s five drum towers rise above the surrounding houses, their tiered roofs supported by timber frames fitted together without nails-a striking example of traditional Dong carpentry.
These towers have served as places for meetings, ceremonies, festivals and everyday conversation. Historically, drumbeats could summon residents or warn of danger.
Around them are rows of timber houses, many with tiled roofs, projecting upper floors and carved wooden details. Traditional raised houses can place living quarters above spaces used for storage or livestock, although buildings now accommodate shops, restaurants and guesthouses.
That was the part of Zhaoxing I wanted more time to explore.
All dressed up, but no time to go
ONE of the most popular activities here is trying on traditional Dong outfits. Our group dressed the part and learned a few dance steps. Former senator Nikki Coseteng participated enthusiastically, continuing to set a pace that some of us younger travelers struggled to match.
Playing dress-up was fun, but I wanted more time in the village. After that activity, we only had an hour before dinner and the show-barely enough to browse the shops and dining spots. This was where I should have bought more souvenirs: clothing, textiles, accessories and smaller keepsakes. I left with only a few items and later regretted not exploring further.
We also tried rice cake-making. Cooked glutinous rice is pounded into a dense, sticky mass before being portioned and served with a coating such as peanut powder. I tried the pounding, and it was more tiring than all the walking. Eating the finished piece was the easier part.
After dinner, we returned for the evening performance. The drum towers were illuminated, and the program brought people together around a bonfire. The songs and dances included a portrayal of traditional courtship that drew laughs from the crowd. Then came the bamboo-pole dance, which looked a lot like our tinikling, with participants timing their steps around poles moved to a rhythm. There was also Duoye, a communal circle dance in which people join hands and move together while singing, and the part where visitors were encouraged to participate.
Day four: Meeting the Miao
OUR next cultural visit took us to Langde Miao Village.
We just had breakfast but we were welcomed with rice wine, by women wearing traditional dress and music played on bamboo reed instruments. Silver ornaments and embroidered clothing immediately drew attention, but by this point, I wanted more than another set of photographs of people in beautiful outfits.
The term Miao, as used in China, covers a diverse population with different languages and local identities. The women of Langde are associated with the Long Skirt Miao tradition, named for their ankle-length skirts. Their embroidery rewards a closer view. Patterns can carry references to ancestry, beliefs, animals, plants and remembered journeys. Butterfly imagery, for example, has a central place in the creation traditions of some Miao communities.
Silver adds another layer of craftsmanship. Headdresses, neckpieces and other ornaments require skilled metalwork, and their significance extends beyond how impressive they look in a photograph.
My favorite part of the Langde show was watching the elders perform. The men lined up with their lusheng-bamboo mouth organs with pipes towering above their heads-and played together in the village square. The older women followed with their own performance, their embroidered clothes and silver ornaments moving with each step.
One dance had the women drawing long lengths of fabric from the lead dancer’s skirt, spreading them outward as they moved around her. It was a clever reveal: what had looked like part of one outfit became the center piece of a group dance.
I could happily have stayed watching the elders, but the program eventually called for audience participation. Once again, visitors were invited to join the dancing.
After lunch, we headed to a batik workshop. Batik uses wax to protect parts of a fabric from dye, creating a pattern when the wax is removed. It sounds straightforward until you consider the control required to produce an intricate design by hand-and, of course, I chose to do a Labubu design.
Our last cultural stop was the Qiandongnan Museum in Kaili, where costumes, objects and interactive displays helped place the village visits within a wider regional context.
The exhibits let us examine the embroidery, accessories and construction of garments we had seen during performances. Displays also covered food, customs and beliefs, while interactive stations introduced music and let visitors virtually try on traditional outfits.
The hidden tech beyond the villages
Perhaps Guizhou’s biggest surprise, however, lay in the places we never visited.
Gui’an New Area, near Guiyang, hosts massive data centers for Apple, Huawei, Tencent, and other tech giants. What makes them remarkable is their location: built into mountains and near natural caves to harness natural cooling. We never saw these facilities in person, but our guide credited these major enterprise investments with driving much of the province’s rapid modern development.
It brought to mind the Philippines’ own aspirations for high-tech manufacturing under initiatives like Pax Silica. While the projects serve different purposes, Guizhou offers a concrete lesson in how a region’s geographical advantages can be harnessed to drive real development. The vision is compelling, and as a Filipino, I’m eager to see how our own national plans are executed.
Our short visit couldn’t establish the full environmental or social cost of Guizhou’s development. What it did show us was a province with purposeful bridges, high-speed rail connections and major technology operations, alongside villages where residents continued to practice, teach and earn from their traditions. The Dong drum towers, Miao embroidery and cloud infrastructure all belonged to the same province.
I am grateful to former senator Nikki Coseteng and Bemz Benedito of Verde Creatives for the invitation and the arrangements that brought us Guizhou. I came home with so many stories, too few souvenirs and plenty of unfinished business: shops to explore in Zhaoxing, food to try, and a waterfall to walk behind.
Before this trip, I had forgotten how good it felt to need my passport again.
Now, this travelling tito can’t wait to get my next stamp.