Guiyang, I'm learning in a crash immersion course, is a city of spicy food, half-wild macaques, as well as thought-provoking contradictions.

The first thing my local contact told me about Guizhou province, of which Guiyang is the capital, is that it's the "least developed province in China".

"You mean in terms of infrastructure?" I said. "It doesn't have many buildings, roads and bridges?"

"I mean, its economic performance is the poorest in China," the person said.

Guizhou's economic output last year, according to official data, amounted to 459.3 billion yuan ($71.9 billion), 26th among China's 31 provinces and municipalities. Per capita income stands at 14,142 yuan for urban residents and 3,472 yuan for rural residents - the lowest in the country.

So on the day I arrived in Guiyang, I was surprised to drive by luxury goods stores such as Gucci, Armani and Rolex. It turned out there were more in the Lavant department stores around the Sheraton Hotel: Ferragamo, Givenchy, Cartier, Bally, Montblanc, Cerruti 1881.

"Who patronizes these stores?" I wondered.

The management of Lavant, which opened in 2005, said 95 percent of its customers are Guizhou residents, like businessmen, civil servants and office workers. The rest are foreign tourists and Chinese business travelers.

Apparently, some of Guizhou's ordinary employees save up for months just to be able to afford "small items", such as wallets, belts, neckties, handkerchiefs and small bags, which cost from 3,000 to 4,000 yuan apiece.

The Ninth Chinese Traditional Games of Ethnic Nationalities, a quadrennial sports meet that's ongoing here, is a way for the province to attract more investors and tourists to improve its economic condition.

The Games' opening ceremony Saturday evening, broadcast live on CCTV, featured Guizhou's melting pot of ethnic groups, its rich natural resources as well as its impressive tourist attractions.

The brand-new Guiyang Olympic Center, constructed at a cost of at least 900 million yuan, is a sign of Guizhou's desire to catch up with the more prosperous Chinese provinces.

The center's stadium, which has a seating capacity of 60,000, is reminiscent of Beijing's Bird's Nest, with its net-like, light-gray shell and crisscrossing nighttime lights.

But I've noticed that when things don't go according to plan, the locals are still wont to using Guizhou's low economic ranking as the most convenient excuse.

For instance, when seats to the Games' opening ceremony got jumbled up and spectators started cursing each other, organizers just encouraged everyone to take whatever seats were available.

"This is Guizhou, this is the best we can do," our paper's local reporter quoted an event organizer as saying when we reported lost seats. "We haven't had much practice with such big events."

Herein is another tug-of-war in the quest to move forward.