Ruhom Tsering Dorje is the founder and current director of the Moso Museum. A native Moso from Lugu Lake, Duoji has been committed to the preservation and promotion of Moso culture since his youth. Motivated by a sense of cultural continuity, he and his fellow villager Erqing jointly founded the Moso Cultural Exhibition Center in 1997. On October 1, 2001, the Moso Museum officially opened to the public, becoming the first museum in China dedicated to Moso culture.

Date: Afternoon of November 19, 2024
Location: Moso Museum, Luoshui Village, Ninglang Yi Autonomous County, Lijiang City, Yunnan Province

Ding Yi: I listened to your podcast introduction to the Moso Museum, and now that I’m here in person, I’d love to hear you tell the history and stories of the museum again.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: I grew up in a Moso household, and I’ve been running this museum for over twenty years now. The exhibition you see here is curated based on my own understanding of our people, with assistance from the Yunnan Provincial Museum. The core of the exhibition is built around philosophical reflections on life: Where do I come from? Why do I live? Where am I going?

First, we present the Moso creation myth. According to oral tradition, humankind passed through six great eras from the time of the heavens and earth splitting open. In the seventh era, a great flood occurred, submerging the entire earth. After this catastrophe, only one Moso ancestor survived—his name was congdeluyiyi. He wandered the barren land alone until he received guidance from an old monkey called abadu, who was actually a god in disguise. Eventually, congdeluyiyi traveled to the heavens, met a celestial maiden, and returned to earth with her. Together, they began to reproduce, and humanity slowly developed once again.

Returning to reality, the Moso people living around Lugu Lake dwell in high mountains and dense forests, rich in natural resources. As a result, our traditional houses are built entirely from large timbers joined by mortise-and-tenon techniques—without the use of a single nail. Even the “tiles” on our roofs are wooden planks. The entire structure is made of wood, and we call these log houses. Before construction, we must perform rituals to worship the nature gods. Only with their permission can we fell trees or break ground to build.

Ding Yi: Do nature deities include mountain gods, water gods, and earth gods?

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: All the mountain gods, water gods, earth gods, and even animal gods fall under the highest deity—shu. We, Moso people, call him rimugu. Our elders say that the society of gods is just like ours: it has leaders at the top and common folk below.

Humans and nature exist within the same space. One of our scriptures says: everything humans eat, use, and drink comes from nature—we must revere it, care for it, and respect it. So, every year the Moso people hold large-scale rituals to honor it.

The nature god is also called the well spirit—they live in the place where water emerges. So, wherever there is a water source, we must not cut down trees, defecate or urinate, shout loudly, or speak profanities. In places where traditional Moso beliefs are well preserved, this worldview has protected nature—there is almost no soil erosion. According to our concept of nature, if food or resources are scarce, we may take what we need, but we must not destroy. When building houses in the past, the elders taught us: out of every four or five trees, you may take one—but never clear-cut entire patches. The elders had methods.

These are images of various animals passed down from ancient times. They represent our different gods—all nature deities. Each directional deity has its own color. This is our Five Elements system, and even today, we still use iron.

Ding Yi: In the Han Chinese Five Elements, we usually say metal.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: Metal is a later interpretation. Originally, it was iron. When we conduct rituals or build homes, we still follow the directional system of wood, fire, water, earth, and iron.

Ding Yi: So all these bronzes were excavated from nearby regions?

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: The early histories of the Naxi and the Moso people in Lijiang were the same. But in 1954, during the classification of ethnic groups, the authorities created a new category under the name “Naxi.” At that time, there was a request to establish a distinct Moso ethnicity, but the classification had already been finalized, and no new groups could be added. So in the end, it became “Naxi nationality” and “Moso people.”

The Moso people have lived deep in the mountains, preserving and passing down their ancient traditions from antiquity to the present. But in Lijiang, over time, many things have changed. For example, burial customs—during land reform, cremation was replaced by inhumation. Once those foundational rituals changed, the entire ceremonial system changed with them. So if someone wants to find the most ancient ancestral culture, they have to come to Lugu Lake.

Ding Yi: How long have Moso people been settled at Lugu Lake?

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: More than 1,600 years. Before that, there are no written records. However, some high lamas and elders I’ve spoken with say that we originally came from the Ali region, and that we are a lineage of the ancient Guge Kingdom and Zhangzhung culture. In that era, our stories still spoke of war. Our reverence for nature, ancestors, souls, and our belief that all things have spirit—these all come from the ancient Zhangzhung culture. The Tibetan Buddhism we now follow came later and differs somewhat in content.

At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, Tibetan Buddhism was introduced into Moso society. Our indigenous Daba religion emphasizes harmony between humans and nature—a worldview grounded in the unity of heaven and humanity. We believe that all things in the world possess spirit, that the soul is immortal, and that everything is alive, only manifested in different forms. Humans are simply the most spiritually aware among them. Tibetan Buddhism shares similar beliefs with our Bön-influenced culture—ideas such as “good brings good,” and “karma and retribution”—so the Moso people embraced it readily. Today, Moso people generally believe in both Daba and Tibetan Buddhism. In many ceremonies, we invite lamas to perform Buddhist rituals and Daba priests to carry out traditional rites—they work together.

Lugu Lake is a very special place. Yungdrung Bön, one of the earliest native Tibetan religions, has very few adherents today, but here at Lugu Lake, it is still passed down.

Ding Yi: These paintings are made with locally gathered mineral or plant-based pigments. But in recent years, these pigments have become harder and harder to find.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: They’ve become very scarce.

Ding Yi: Industrial pigments are much more accessible now. I’ve spoken with some painters, and most of them use synthetic pigments in their work. But I feel that these pigments sometimes fail to express the ancient quality of tradition. What do you think of the current state of local mineral pigments? Are there still people collecting and preparing them?

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: They’re basically not in use anymore. Some people working in intangible heritage projects will demonstrate the old process of dyeing linen using mineral pigments, just for show. But in practice, mineral pigments are no longer used for painting.

Ding Yi: It really is a more complicated process—like how, in the past, people used bamboo pens for writing scriptures, but now even those seem to have fallen out of use.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: They’re not used at all anymore. In the past, our scriptures written in silver and gold ink were especially beautiful.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: In Moso belief, the mother gives birth to all beings under heaven. We have an old saying: “The mother is the bones and spine; the father is the flesh and blood.” We form slowly, bit by bit, inside our mother’s womb, and then are born into the world. The mother is the most important. Moso culture reveres, loves, and respects mothers. To us, mothers are the greatest. We call all mothers in the world ai-mi. Whether we know a woman personally or not, as long as she is of that age, we respectfully call her ai-mi.

We call the earth li-mi, and Lugu Lake, our Mother Lake, is called xiena-mi. The sun is ni-mi, the mother of the daytime. The moon is hei-mi, the mother of the night. The mountains are jina-mi, the continent is ren-mi, the great rivers are ji-mi, a leader is wo-mi, and the heart is nu-mi… In our worldview, all the most important things are represented by the mother. This shows that they are as sacred, beautiful, and auspicious as a mother. Every person’s birth, aging, sickness, and death; receiving guests or storing things at home; and all the major rites of a person’s life must take place in the mother’s house.

Our traditional family structure is known as the matrilineal extended family. Since the 1950s and 60s, many people have misunderstood us as some kind of living “matriarchal fossil”—the so-called “Kingdom of Women,” where women supposedly have great power and high status. But in real Moso culture, we don’t relate to those ideas at all. Our family structure is very unique. At the head is the grandmother. The descendants of her daughters—four generations under one roof, sometimes even five—live together. It’s a large family centered around women.

We, too, went through the social development from a primitive society to a matrilineal one and then to a patrilineal society. But the Moso people, after experiencing a patrilineal stage, evolved into a society where matrilineal and patrilineal elements coexist. In our society, men handle things outside the home, women manage things inside. Every family has a woman in charge—she oversees daily labor, meals, finances, and more. In our view, it’s better this way. If a man were in charge, he might be too extravagant. For example, during the rise of tourism, in a few families where the uncle took charge of the money, he’d focus on eating out, entertainment, gambling, playing mahjong… A few years later, the family couldn’t repay the bank, and the house was almost repossessed. In the end, all the relatives helped pay it off and decided that things work better with a woman managing the household. So in our villages, it’s almost always women who handle the family affairs, and even all the social exchanges between households are arranged by women.

Our Moso tradition of inheritance is called “household inheritance.” All people, cattle, horses, livestock, houses on the land, and property belong to the entire household. So in cultural terms, we belong to what you could call a household-based culture. Within the household, tasks are divided, but everyone works, and all the fruits of labor are shared by all—this is a kind of communism. Over a thousand years ago, the Moso people already practiced a communist way of life and production.

The Moso also have the world’s most unique form of marriage: walking marriage. During the Song-Yuan period into the early Ming, the times were chaotic and tribal conflict was frequent. Men had to protect their families and communities during the day and care for the young and elderly at home. In such circumstances, lovers could only engage in walking marriages. Men would stay with their families during the day, and at night, go visit their partners. If children were born, they would be raised by their mother’s family—by their uncles and maternal relatives. It’s a lifestyle our ancestors developed through practice—one that helped us survive and thrive during times of hardship.

When a household has only men and no women, they would need marriages of residence; likewise, if there are only women and no men, the family will welcome a son-in-law into the home. Then, the household becomes balanced again. Both family and marriage structure are flexible and adaptive.

Ding Yi: In deed, there’s a kind of logic to it—it aligns with the overall needs of local life and production. It developed in the mountains, within a relatively closed and self-contained society. In a city, it would probably be hard to achieve something like this.

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: That’s right. The reason the Moso extended family structure has been preserved from ancient times until today is because it contains many deeply humane elements. As we mentioned earlier, a household often has two or even three mothers. But in our culture, it’s not permitted to distinguish between “this is my child” and “that is your child.” Once people start making such distinctions, they become selfish, and conflict arises. In our culture, everyone is simply “mother.” The oldest is called da mama (big mother), the middle one is called by name with a-ma, and the youngest is called xiao mama (little mother). So many children, even by the time they are seven or eight, don’t know which one is their biological mother. But they always proudly say, “I have three mothers.”

In Moso culture, the maternal uncle takes on the role of the father. It’s the uncle who raises the nieces and nephews, and he earns the money that supports the household. A good uncle is measured by two things: first, whether the household he provides for is well built; second, whether the children are polite and well-mannered. When an uncle visits the home of his walking-marriage partner—his lover—he has no authority to interfere with how the children there are raised because that’s the responsibility of their maternal uncle. When he goes to his lover’s household, he is a guest.

Ding Yi: That must have been a lot of pressure for the uncle. The whole household’s livelihood depends on him. His status must be quite high, right?

Ruhom Tsering Dorje: Yes, the uncle holds a lot of authority. When we were young, the moment someone said, “Your uncle is coming back,” we’d fall silent—we wouldn’t even dare to make a sound. When uncle returned from work, we would all go out to greet him. A group of us kids would be shouting, “Uncle’s back! Uncle’s back!” We’d crowd around him, someone would take things he was carrying, someone would lead him by the hand, someone would pour him water, someone else would bring foot-washing water. The uncle worked the hardest in the family, and everyone respected him deeply. So as an uncle, no matter how much he gave, he was willing.

In Moso society, one of the most important values is what we call a “culture of shyness.” Translated into Chinese, this corresponds to a sense of shame or moral conscience. For us, if a child is impolite, that is “shy” (i.e., shameful); if someone steals or cheats, that is “shy”; if someone behaves indecently or speaks immorally in public, that too is “shy.” Any action that violates appropriate behavior falls under the category of shy.

Even walking marriage (zouhun) among the Moso is governed by taboos of shyness—one cannot enter into a walking marriage with anyone related by blood. In the early stages, our tradition is the same as many others: two people meet through shared labor, celebrations, and exchanges between families. After getting to know each other, they may fall in love. But from that point onward, our customs diverge from those of other ethnic groups. Others expect that you bring your partner home to be approved by your elders. But we have a saying: “Kinship belongs to everyone; love belongs to oneself.” That means your elders, relatives, and friends have no say in who you choose to love—because the two of you will not live together in the same household.

Traditional walking marriage among the Moso is a very free form of romantic relationship. Once two people are in love and the time is right, the man will secretly visit the woman’s home after nightfall. Then, before her family wakes up in the early morning, he will quietly leave and return to his own home. This is the secret phase of a walking marriage.

After their child is born, a formal kinship recognition ceremony is held. Around the child’s one-month mark, if both the mother and baby are healthy, a good date is chosen for the ceremony. The man brings food, drink, and other necessities to the woman’s home, and the woman’s family hosts a feast for relatives and friends from the village. From that day on, the relationship is made public, and the man can visit his partner and child openly during the day. If either family needs help, they support each other. The two households maintain a very friendly relationship—because there’s no conflict of interest between them.

The Moso form of marriage avoids some of the most difficult tensions found in modern families—such as mother-in-law vs. daughter-in-law, sister-in-law rivalries, and household disagreements. Since the couple doesn’t live together, their differences in outlook or values don’t lead to the same kind of domestic conflict. Your home is your home, mine is mine. The child belongs to the woman’s household, so there are no disputes over custody. This kind of open, free romantic relationship often results in greater emotional stability.

We’ve interviewed couples who’ve been in walking marriages for thirty or forty years and asked if they’ve ever fought. Many of them say they can’t even find a reason to argue—everything is clear and well-understood. That’s why the Moso extended family structure and walking marriage system have been passed down for thousands of years, continuing to this day.