I'll take the Cheap Room
I took a four/ten hour bus trip from Louyang to Xian. I say four/ten because four hours was the projected travel time, ten was the actual. I'm not sure why it took an extra six hours, but I do know that we stopped at one point not moving for over two hours. Other than the fact that my elderly male neighbor had a terrible wig, there was nothing particularly interesting about the trip.
I finally rolled into my hostel around nine. Filled with good spirits, I felt like a thief when I opted for the twenty kuai room. Why pay double for the same accommodations- I ain't no sukka? I'll gladly stay in the basement. The following morning after an estimated two hours of sleep, I reconsidered my decision. The room seemed to be specially designed to circulate smoke into the room and the insulation was such that I felt I could directly participate in the conversation outside. I'm all for merriment, but these loud backpackers were up until six and wouldn't let me sleep. Then disaster struck. I noticed at some point in the middle of the night that my key disappeared. Normally this would never happen since I would keep it on my person. But this was a room where you had to put the card in the light switch to activate the electricity, which was crucial to operate a tiny fan. At around six when one of my roomies came in, I asked about the key. She was either too drunk, stupid, or foreign to understand; lIkey a combination of all three. Early in the morning I stormed to the desk and demanded satisfaction. They were sympathetic to my complaints and would gladly change my room but would have to charge me for the lost key. This amounted to a whopping $14 (what am I made of money?) and I refused to pay. I didn't lose it, your evil guests who tormented me mistakenly took it in an act of drunken negligence. After a little bit of back and forth, we reached a compromise. They would charge me 50 kuai for the key, but discount the upgraded room by 60 kuai. Fine with me, especially since I was happy to pay the higher rater, just not the key deposit. The next room was much better. I spent the next day with an English fella at the Terra cotta warriors and then co-habitating with two Danish girls and a French gal. We all nestled together at night and will be joining a Swedish commune next Fall.
Terracotta Spectacle
The Big Goose Pagoda is presented in typical Chinese fashion, totally exploited. The oldest and most famous site in Xian (the warriors don't count since they're outside the city) has been turned into a theme park. Come here to see a water show, poorly constructed statues and kitschy historical remakes. It's like someone from the tourist ministry visited Las Vegas, saw it's success and was convinced cultural sites needed to be Vegasized. Bigger and kitschier. Who needs to step back into the magical Chinese past when instead you can have your picture on a camel, buy an annoying bird whistle or overpay for ice-cream? At least Vegas has an ample supply of clean toilets.
The warriors were a similar experience. They're certainly cool, but way over-hyped. The entrance to the site calls it the eight wonder of the world. The mass of warriors is impressive, as is the fact that the tomb was begun when the emperor was just 13. Checky little guy. The tomb itself hasn't been excavated for fear that it will be destroyed during the process. The museum is disappointing, totally lacking in details. There is as much description praising the valiant nature of the construction workers who built the facility as actual history. I'm down for patriotic whooping, but why not focus it on the guy and the emperor who built the site?
More interesting than the Warriors was Emperor Jindi's Tomb. It was supposed to be an easy five minute bus ride and then a simple transfer to bus number four which would take me straight to the site. After my three attempts to board the bus were vigorously rebuffed, I became concerned. Signs that indicated buses leaving overnight- 0:30, 1:30, 3:00, etc. confused me. So, I walked to the bus station where I got similar direction as my hostel. An additional three attempts were denied before I was finally granted admittance. That wasn't that bad, tomb here I come. Well, it wasn't quite that simple. The number four drove for about twenty minutes before stopping at a random stop on the side of the road. The only distinguishing characteristic being the presence of several other buses. After gesticulating my question, I learned that I had to board another number four which was to leave from across the street. After forty minutes of waiting and a twenty minute drive I finally reached the tomb.
So, was all the hastle worth it? The fascinating archaeological site more than makes up for the pain. Plus the museum is very pleasant with interesting descriptions and fields of roses where digging once took place. I think what makes this site so interesting is that it's an active dig and you walk right over and next to the excavation pits. Jingdi's Tomb has relics that focus more on everyday life. So rather than warriors, you'll see horses, pigs and little men. It's all very interesting and if you make it to Xian I would say visiting the site is just as important and more enjoyable than the warriors.
Xian has some fascinating history, so I wanted to visit some of the cities museums. I did make it to one, but twice failed in my attempt to visit the large municipal one. On the first attempt, I discovered it's closed on Mondays and when I tried a couple days later, I found I arrived when the museum was closing 4:15. The guidebook said 7- stupid guidebook. Actually I'm not sure if it's LP's fault completely, the Chinese museums have strange hours in the afternoon. At an attached building I wandered to a small art exhibit. Where after five minutes I was approached by the artist. It was almost all calligraphy, which I have no problem admitting that I am indifferent to. It's hard to appreciate it when the language is totally lost on me and I know next to nothing about it's style and history. It was interesting to talk with the artist- now I know a little about calligraphy. His English wasn't great and when he could tell that I was not interested in purchasing pictures, nor a calligraphy aficionado, the conversation petered out.
Xian has a very active Muslim quarter (it was funny to hear travelers sometimes refer to it as the Middle Easter Quarter) with a lovely mosque and a winding maze of street vendors selling a wide range of products from 'Gucci" bags to delicious street food. I ate there a couple of nights with the highlights being grilled quail eggs and a thick lamb soup filled with chucks of bread. I should note that if you are interested in buying some low quality Chinese art there is a lady-I believe she's twenty stalls in on the northside of the street, who will give you a good price. She told me to tell my friends....
A City of the Past of One of the Future?
I have been here for a couple of weeks but Xian is my first real city (Louyang has a measly 1.5 mil) as such I've experienced a couple firsts. I saw a biker get plowed by a reckless taxi cab. I stayed there for the following argument and could only shake my head when after five minutes the cab drove off, leaving the girl in tears with only a crowd of spectators to console her. I also had the special joy of seeing multiple kids squatting in the middle of the sidewalk. There's nothing quite like walking down the street and seeing a kid give birth to a little brown snake. Especially when the delivery is a painful one accompanied by shouts of frustration and tears of pain. Oh, and I saw someone being dragged kicking and screaming into a police car, but that happens in any big city.
Equally surprising is to see the staggering amount of development. At the top of the Big Pagoda, I counted twenty cranes all in one direction. The magnitude of construction is amazing. It's not just that buildings are popping up left or right. It's that whole districts or even cities are being built. On my trip to the Tomb, I was struck by six support columns for a modern roadway located in the middle of nowhere. I could foresee ten years into the future where the fields are replaced by rows of apartments suitable of a proper suburb of Xian, right off the new interprovince roadway. This place that falls in the middle of nowhere is probably a pretty good real estate play.
I continue to have some interaction with the Chinese. I typically seek out the hostel employees and when I'm lucky, I am sometimes approached by random people when sightseeing, eating, or just generally looking lost. Usually, I'm approached by people under 30 and with varying degrees of English. During my second night while I was starting to enjoy some fried rice, I was hauled in by three guys in their late twenties. As we downed a couple of beers we had a pleasant conversation. Only one of the three had decent English, his name was David, he works for a large high-tech company headquartered in the States. At one point David extolled the virtues of Mao. "One of the world's greatest men, like your George Washington." I'm still figuring out how to deal with such provocative comments. In general, I just try to engage and ask questions. But there is often reluctance to go deeper than simple pronouncements.
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