We headed up to see the White Bamboo Shoot Pagoda (founded in 1204) in search of a dry haven and found it a beehive of activity.  On went our sarongs, off came our shoes and for over 2 hours we joined about 60 older men and women from the surrounding villages as they decorated the temple, made offerings, lighted incense, prayed and chanted with the monks.  They gave us food, items to make offerings, (along with instructions on protocol), and at one point one kind lady gave us 2 small pounded rice treats (like ‘mochi’) wrapped in banana leaves. This opened the floodgate as every woman put 2 into our bag until it literally exploded with weight.  No reprieve as a larger plastic bag appeared, which was filled up to the top, easily weighing 10 lbs.. We sampled many different types of the ‘mochi’ rice cakes, some with salty beans, nuts or grain and others sweetened with coconut or rice syrup.  Filled up, we later gave them away to people as we walked through the villages and fields behind.  Many of the people we ‘talked with’ in the temple later recognized us in the small villages or at the upcoming dance festival and greeted us wildly or introduced us to their friends and family.  The man who played the giant 10 foot drum, opening the temple ceremony, became the ‘drum player’ and he showed up everywhere.  He seemed used to setting things off as we later waved to him in the parade, carrying enormous 2 ft long rockets tied to bamboo poles, which were ceremoniously launched during the festivities. We bought fruit or vegetables in the local market from many of our new little old lady friends.  One woman invited us into her 100 year plus rustic Bai home, complete with dried meat hanging over the smoldering fire in the corner, Grandma and Grandpa napping on their mats, and an absolute minimum of possessions. First she served us hot tea, then went outside and picked plums off the tree and one of the biggest, juiciest pineapples we had ever tasted, followed by a kind of puff up rice crackers done in the wok, half spicy the other half sweet.  Grandma, who was blind, simply enjoyed listening to us talk and Grandpa barked an order after which appeared their favorite ‘hooch’ or ‘baijiu’.  We politely declined, stating that they had already filled us to the brim.  We rolled down the ladder 2 hours later, having savored yet another invitation to glimpse the lives of locals.  Walking further down the lane we heard a lot of noise and laughter, with little shy “hellos” mixed in.  As usual we replied, “Hello, Nihao!’ and several heads popped up and invited us upstairs.  There was something ‘rotten in Denmark’ as we heard water running and I glanced a young guy filling a bucket.  Joseph stopped short and said we would come up but he had his camera out and could they please not drench us.  Their ambush uncovered, they disappointedly invited us to sit around their table and join then in eating and drinking beer.  We had a fun time talking, laughing, drinking tea, and before we left they ritualistically splashed a small amount of water down our backs. Only christened 3 or 4 times that day I was feeling quite cocky as I rounded the corner to our hotel.  Waiting for my return was a little urchin with a full bucket.  Let’s just say it will be a very lucky year!