Mr. Song, a rice farmer, pauses from his work pulling densely planted rice stalks from a rice paddy where they have been growing for 45 days. The stalks will then be taken by motorcycle to the family's paddies elsewhere to be transplanted individually by hand and then harvested after another four months.

The Hani (哈尼族) may get all the credit for their rice terraces in Yuanyang (元陽縣), but the terraced mountains cover much of southern Yunnan and are farmed by Yi (彝族), Bulang (布朗族), Lahu (拉祜族) and Wa (佤族), among others. The leaves from the tea trees in the foreground will be turned into Pu'er (普洱茶), which stretches far beyond the county of Pu'er (普洱縣), from which the tea gets its name.

It's said that planting rice is some of the most "bitter" (苦) agricultural work there is. But for whom?

It's rice planting season in a big way in Guangxi province. The farmers first grow the rice plants densely packed under plastic coverings, then transplant them into the paddy by tossing them down into rows, after which they go through and press the roots into the mud.

After finishing up in the paddies, a man takes his water buffalo back to the homestead.

I wonder who would win in a mud wrestling match?

It's rice-planting season for sure. In Guangxi plowing the flooded rice paddies is still done mostly with the water buffalo.

A woman transplants rice plants into a flooded rice paddy on a misty day in Guangxi.

Today we finally made it to Tangyin (棠阴), Jiangxi province. With the exception of a long period of harassment by the police and Foreign Affairs Bureau from the nearby county seat, we found the town to be charming and completely devoid of tourism -- a relief after seeing a slogan on a sign leading into town calling for the spirited development of the tourism industry. Locals scoffed when we asked if there was an entrance fee, and for good reason: the entire old town is falling into a sad state of disrepair. A beautiful old house, once the home of a landlord before the revolution and of the county government thereafter (trading one landlord for another?), is now falling to pieces under the collective ownership of a number of peasant families, as is the rest of the town. There can be no entrance fee until the place is restored, and there is no money to oust the current occupants and restore (read: build anew, poorly) without the money that an entrance fee would bring.