It was the first time I had visited an ethnic Korean settlement. Before leaving Beijing, I thought I was fully prepared because I had done a lot of homework to learn about the people's manners and customs, and the diet. Despite that, it was still hard to get used to country life.

Hongqi village, Antu county, Yanbian Korean autonomous prefecture, Jilin province, enjoys very fresh air and beautiful scenery, even in cold weather.

Moreover, it is only about 100 kilometers from the Changbaishan National Nature Reserve, home to Tianchi Lake, which is its most famous attraction.

To better understand village life, I had arranged to lodge at a rural homestay run by Cui Jingyun, a pleasant 50-something woman. She greeted me with a wide smile that helped to allay my anxiety at being alone in a strange place.

"Take it as your home," were the first words she said as she showed me around her house, which is a typical Korean-style dwelling and fitted with ondol, a type of wooden flooring that is heated from below.

"We people in Northeast China used to sleep on the ondol. I heated up the living room for you yesterday after being informed that a reporter would stay at my house."

Curious, I touched the ondol, which can serve as both a floor and a bed. I could tell that Cui was a little nervous, but she kept smiling so I wouldn't be embarrassed.

"I've been living alone for a rather long time," she said, taking bedclothes from a wardrobe.

"My husband is a native of the village. He is an ethnic Korean, but I'm not. He went to South Korea for work several years ago, leaving me here to look after the house because of my poor health and visa problems.

"I have my two sons in Antu county, also lovely grandsons and granddaughters, but I still feel lonely in the village. Now I have you to keep me company."

I felt sorry for her, and I was touched by her words; I had never expected that my visit could relieve the loneliness of a complete stranger.

Most of my time in the village was spent interviewing the residents and tourists, along with some of the people in charge of village affairs, but I always rushed back to the homestay after finishing work to chat with Cui and watch TV with her.

I have to admit that village life was very different from how I had imagined it.

The first problem was the toilet. The homestay has modern facilities, but a water shortage means they are only available three times a day: 5 am to 7 am; 11 am to 1 pm; and 6 pm to 8 pm.

Cui told me that the most-used toilet for villagers was a pit facility that lacked running water.

At first, I was shocked, but I soon learned to accept it. That's life; who knows what may come next?

The first time I visited the pit toilet at night was scary, because it was about 50 meters from the house and there were no lights.

"Take this - it will make you feel much better," said Cui, passing me a flashlight. I took it gladly.

Though I encountered some awkward moments during my 10 days in the village, especially in terms of hygienic habits or diet, I was impressed by the people and their distinctive Korean customs, which I may not experience again for some time.