The cost of memory
But preserving memory comes at a price.
Cui works for the Fugong county cultural center, earning a modest salary. Since 2017 — when she began collecting in earnest — she has been the sole provider for her son and her aging mother.
"I'm in debt," she says.
She estimates that the best months bring in a profit of around 20,000 yuan ($2,944) from the homestay's restaurant and tourism activities, but other months run at a loss.
"For the past few years, it's been a struggle," she says.
She employs six people to help maintain the collection and run the property, but the real challenge is conservation.
The Nujiang Grand Canyon is one of the wettest places in Yunnan. The humidity and heat cause bamboo to warp, wood to rot, and hemp to disintegrate.
"The artifacts are deteriorating right before our eyes," Gao says with visible anguish.
There have been some signs of government support. Through a Shanghai-Yunnan partnership program — Shanghai has been paired with Yunnan for poverty alleviation — the town government contributed 200,000 yuan to help build the current two-story exhibition hall.
However, the funding was a one-time boost, and the museum still lacks proper display cases, climate control, and conservation equipment.
"Maintaining support is never easy," Gao notes.
Cui has applied for permission to be stationed full-time at the museum, but her request is still pending.
"If I could stay here every day, I could manage the restaurant better, host more study tours, and use the income to protect the artifacts," she says.
Her 28-year-old son now accompanies her on collecting trips. "At first he wasn't interested, but he wasn't resistant either. Now he comes with me the whole way," Cui says.
But there's a skills gap.
"I don't know how to use online platforms. My son doesn't really know either. Meituan, Douyin, Xiaohongshu — we're not good at any of them," Cui admits.
Her museum is open every day, free of charge. Visitors from outside the prefecture often wander in expecting just a meal, only to spend hours examining the objects.
"Sometimes the older Lisu people come and look at things they remember from their childhood," Cui says. "They get emotional. They tell me, 'I never thought I'd see these again.'"
Gao has made the museum a base for her students' research. "We're not just studying objects but also documenting an entire way of life that is disappearing," she says.
"These artifacts are not just pieces of wood or bamboo. They contain wisdom about how humans can live in harmony with nature — taking what they need without taking too much. That wisdom matters now more than ever," she adds.
For Cui, the mission is simple.
"I love this land. I love my people. I just want to do the small things I can, to keep our roots alive for our children. If we lose these things, we'll never get them back," she says.
