Juiced

If life in exile means the return of the Georgetown Dynasty, it's a good thing I like dumplings.

Syracuse: 53
Georgetown: 68

Move Aside, Walter Mitty

I got another suit made this week, and at the same time a traditional Chinese silk coat; they kind with the big sleeves and knotted buttons. Its black with with cuffs, no frilly designs. It looks badass.

And yes I'm wearing it now.

And yes, I've been mimicking a plethora of chopsocky moves around my apartment while testing out my new threads.

Wednesday night of this week a group of teachers went out bar hopping. Despite the Harbin cold, I wore a toga (others did too, it wasn't a solo thing).

Fear not, friends from long ago, I havent changed too much during this past year. We still be Billin'.

Spring Is In The Air. And On My Shoes. And Across My Floor...

The past two or three days have been exceptionally warm, but yet we've also had snow. It's quite odd. But at the same time, obvious that the groundhog (do they have groundhogs in China? I dunno.) didn't see his shadow.

So it's an early spring in Harbin. What does that mean? Well, we've got an exceptional amount of sludge everywhere. Please remember that it's usually very cold here, and everything freezes. The roads and sidewalks have all had about 1/2 inch of ice overing them since early December. A lot of this frozen fun contains settled coal dust from the power plants that heat all the apartment blocks across the city. Then, according to my Canuck co-worker Craig, there's an extra inch of ice solely derived from people's spittle.

It's cold in Harbin. And dirty. Together, well, causes one to hock-and-load on frequent occasion. I've been practising. Thanks to an average of 4-6 hocks between the 2.5 blocks from home to school, I'll get in half a dozen shots. My accuracy is impressive, and my range is now great. All in all, its disgusting.

Have we mentioned the lugies in the restaurants? Oh, thats a fun time.

I digress. The frozen fun is melting. That means spring. How else do I know?
1. The BBQers are out in full force. Anyone who can is setting up a steel drum outside their establishment to roast up some meat-on-a-stick. Good for me. It's delicious. The lice love it.

2. The streets are nothing but black slick. This is not a good thing, only a ominous fore-runner of better things to come.

3. Some Chinese are not wearing long underwear. But many still are. Many consider it crazy to take off their long underwear anytime before April. Which, in itself, is crazy if you ask me.

OK, This Might Be Funny

The last entry on this, the blog of blogs, commented on the lack of good humor in the Chinese language.

Today I was given a light at the end of the tunnel. That sounds rather morbid. I was given a light. We'll leave it at that. Especially since it's appropos for this discussion.

Taking a bus home from my tailor's (I got a tailor!) this afternoon, I was reading China's version of the New Yorker: Public Bus Edition. As I didn't care to waste my time on the bourgeois advertising sections, I skipped straight to the humor page. The following, for better or for worse, is what I found.

TITLE: Black Things
JOKE: A white person was in a black person place. The white person felt nervous. When talking to some black people, the white person said something stupid that simultaneously pointed out how white people and black people are different but in another way the same. Hahahahaha!

There is no plagarism in China, well, not like back in the States where I was signing "Honor Codes" every month. So this joke is likely plagiarized off Dave Chappelle. Who plagiarized off Chris Rock. Who plagiarized off Eddie Murphy. Who plagiarized off Richard Pryor. Who plagiarized off Red Foxx. You get my point.

White People and Black People and People Who Speak Asian are different. But we're all also the same. In that we steal someone else's ideas for our onw profit, that is.

Its Just Not Funny

We need to recognize that we live in a world of many cultures and many languages, and certain aspects will never translate well from one to the next. Fine. This might manifest itself most commonly within humor. Now, I'm at the point now where I can watch a movie in Chinese and understand most of it, and if its got comedy then I can usually swing with it. This isn't much of a feat, as most Chinese comedies seem to ceiling at slapstick.

Last night I was watching "GoldenEye" as I make my way through the Bond collection I picked up a few months back. I couldn't get the subtitles off, so they kept distracting me throughout the film. Not too annoying, really. But what struck me was how lame the translation was. More than anything else, the sexual inuendos made little sense in Chinese, and often seemed to be, well, not so much innuendo as direct statements. Which basically boils down half of the dialogue in a Bond film to something like:
Any woman: "What are you doing?"
Bond: "I want to put my penis inside your vagina."

Chinese, I've said before, is an incredibly rigid language. This past weekend a father of a student taught me an expression that would directly translate as "The brain becoming rusty is not a good thing." He can't speak English, and I didn't know the word for 'rust,' but I understood when he said it was a red powder on metal that occurs after oxidation (yes, I know 'oxidize' in Chinese). Upon enlightenment, I jumped up confirmed that I understood his expression and immediately asked him if I could use the similar patter in other ways.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if I don't use my Chinese ability, and it gets bad, can I say it gets 'rusty?'"
"No! Of course not! That makes no sense!"
"Well, what about other things?"
"I don't understand what you're trying to do, Bill. You can only say metal objects and brains are 'rusty.' Thats it."

Frustrating for an English speaker.

I'd like to end this post with a quick note on "GoldenEye." First, its a pretty good Bond movie, certainly better than some of the other atrocious Brosnan outings, and way better than one or two Moores. Not only that, but having not seen this film since the mid-nineties, I've probably got more memories about the N64 game than the flick. But watching the opening, I was shocked to see how well the game recreated the movie! The "facility" level, the first, is almost a direct re-creation of Bond's raid on the base. Some of the other sets were also well done by the game, but that facility really blew me away. Many of you know I played that game so much in high-school it got to the point that I was afraid of turning a corner in fear of a certain Soto waiting there for a shot to my head. Man, I loved that game. I'm on the verge of going to the video-game market here in Harbin and finding an N64 and a copy of "GoldenEye" just so I can re-live all those hours wasted in high school.

No using Odd-Job. Or that short Moonraker Guard. Thats just not fair.

Withdrawal

Whoa. That sucked. My internet's been shut off for maybe 3+ days now and I've been driven to the brink of insanity. Happy to see that in that time we here at Immigrant Songs have garnished a bit of respect. One compatriot (the AeroPerro) gave a nod on his own blog (http://dog.aereoperro.com/), which is pretty much the only blog I can read from China.

My favorite ego-stroke might have come from another long-time friend who said that since he doesn't see me, can only read my blog, he "thinks [he] ponders [me] now more as a celebrity." Celebrity is cool. Where are the chicks? Where's DaveTV?

Throughout the travelogue regarding Spring Festival Vacation I made mention of many "Indiana Jones" moments. I'd like to quickly relate one more.

That first full day in Xi'An we ended our afternoon by walking through the Shaanxi History Museum. Dark (it was a museum) and dusty (we WERE in China) and dripping with history, guess what flashed immediaely through my mind after finding this exhibit (Warning: Blurry):



"They're digging in the wrong place!"

Moving on, I'd like to relate the anger I've experienced due to my internet blackout. It peaked this afternoon as the following came to light: my internet was shut off because I had only paid for 4 months (beginning in September) and actually owed a furth 200 RMB. Now, here's what the deal with my internet is: I signed up in March of 2005, paid 100 RMB deposit and then a further 600 RMB for 6 months of service. In September, before my subscription ran out, I paid a further 600 RMB for a further 6 months. Each time I was forced to pay in cash, each time to some guy who just showed up, each time the guy failing to be able to give me a receipt, cuz they just dont always seem do to receipts here. When we called to ask today why my internet was shut off, the company stated I had only paid 402 RMB in September. People who know me would see this as uncharacterisitic, as I usually pay for things in the easiest managed blocks, and as 6 months was the longest time period to purchase (and thereby cheapest per unit); and why would I go through the extra effort of paying 400 AND TWO??? They didn't even ask to see a receipt, they knew I wouldn't have one. I wasn't going to pay any more money to this company that they didn't deserve, and clearly told my boss and one TA to NOT pay anything without first consulting me. Obviously now I'm on the internet again, so what happened? Last I heard, we sent a man down to the internet company's office to take care of the matter. That sounds more dramatic than it probably was, but regardless, it worked.

Hooray for the internet!

A Year's Worth of Adventures

Today's the day: one year since I set foot back in China. February 14 will from this point forward will mark the completion of my first complete year abroad, my first year truly staking it out on my own, my first big test in a long time. Guaranteed not to be my last.

In the philosophy of Billism, February 14 will likely take rank amongst the high holidays: December 18, birth of the patriarch; April 10, the passing of the proficiency exam; Halloween. There are other important festivals as well, such as the gluttonous Lunchbox Fest, but that falls whim to the Weiss-M calendar, less predictable than the Chinese Lunar Calendar.

So looking back on this first year, what must we remember and pay respect to?

First, those left behind. Family first: the core of padre, madre, dos bros and un petit sis. They've been busy without me, their own travels taking them as far as Prague. I guess they felt safe doing this with me in China, as the last time I got ditched by the 5 of them I threw one hell of a houseparty.

Outside Byfield we've got a few more [CENSORED], notably my aunt in Pittsburgh who has graced my time in China with welcomed packages of Hershey chocolates. The O'Neils need respresenation, if solely for their sheer number, but I know they are out there somewhere and hopefully avidly reading this blog.

Then there are the friends. I've been able to keep up with many through email, IM, blogs (prior to the PRC crackdown), and the occasional poorly-timed phone call. (Seems like if they aren't asleep when I give ring they've been rushed to the hospital.) Special recognition needs to go to those four who visited my lonely self in Boston immediately prior to last year's departure. Thanks guys, you're missed.

But enough about other people, lets talk about me! I've done a lot the past year, lets gloat:

1. I'm a successful teacher! This might not surprise any of our readers, but I got a knack for finding others' faults and correcting them. Not only have I consistently received the highest student ratings of all the teachers in my school for all levels of class, but I got a waitlist of students waiting to join my classes. And the kicker: the company I tutor once a week wants to pay for me to be flown around China to their other offices to train their other English teachers in the "Bill Method."
My students also learn a lot.



2. I'm a successful comprador! Not only being a teacher, I'm the number one daily go-between for foreign/Chinese affairs! I've defended my school as often as I've championed for the downtrodden foreign teachers and helped to create a number of new, documented policies that have boosted morale and efficiency around the office!



3. I'm a successful traveler! I've taken trips to the four corners of China, braved jungle, desert, tundra and concrete to bring you stories from all over the Middle Kingdom. Also a gift here and there for the lucky ones back home. I've ambled on my own ability as well as relaxed in the comfort of a friendly tour group. Two mountains have been tackled (plus a yak-tastic plateau), at least half a dozen cities beat, countless buses and trains ridden (but only one yak), delicacies downed, friends found, and shoes worn thin.



4. I'm a successful student of the Chinese language! My primary reason for coming to Harbin in the first place, my 'putonghua' is nigh on good. I won't brag too much about this, as there is still so much left to learn, and my pronounciation isn't quite perfect enough for the high-falootin' snobs of the Manchurian Plain, but I get repeated compliments every else in China not just that I know Chinese but that my Chinese is exceptionally clear. Also grammatically correct. Yup, I speak like a textbook, but what can you expect? And is that a bad thing?

5. I'm a successful dieter! Not so much a dieter, perhaps, as I still don't watch what I eat, but I've lost over 30 pounds in the last year. For those keeping track:
165 - Freshmen Year of High School (I wrestled 168)
175 - Junior Year of High School (I wrestled 189)
200 - Sometime between quitting wrestling and the end of Freshmen Year at University (mostly healthy growth)
238 - Weight at graduation from University (mostly beer and Tombs/New South food - NOT HEALTHY)
225 - Weight upon leaving for China in February 2005
190 - Weight as of yesterday
None of my clothes that I left home with really fit properly anymore. All that really do fit properly are those tailored suits I've been getting made. I'm not complaining, not in the least! And now there is no argument: I've got a cute butt.

What's next? Who knows. Thats the great thing. So keep your eyes on the blog and stay tuned for the next round of adventures in your favorite serial and mine.

Profundity!

Cue the "Benny Hill" music, its time for Silly Engrish Signs! (Some better than others.)

Glory Glory Hallelujah

Tonight, February 12, brings the Lantern Festival and with that the end of Spring Festival. Beginning tomorrow morning firecrackers and fireworks will once again be illegal until next year.

It would be cliche' to identify the constant fire outside my window, which while for the last two weeks has been constantly abuzz now reaches critical mass, to anything reminiscent of the so-called 'shit,' but damn if ain't shitty. I'm looking forward to the return of peace and quiet. Return? What?

For the time being I'm finding it hard to concentrate on cranking out a log concerning the last day of the travel as I'm simultaneously listening to the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," or the "Glory, glory, hallelujah!"' song if you will. Wednesday will be the one-year anniversary since I arrived in China and all I can say is "America. Fuck yeah."



But we're gonna do it.

Waking up for the final day of walking around I was determined to tire myself out as much as possible for the upcoming 45 hour train ride, and thus opted to carry my pack all day. Grabbing a quick breakfast of oh-so-good dumplings, fried egg, and pumpkin/rice soup (not bad) we planned out the route: first to the Temple of the Eight Immortals, followed by the Big Goose Pagoda, then the Little Goose Pagoda, then shopping in the Muslim Quarter for trinkets before heading to the train station.

It took a bit of wandering but we eventually got to the Temple. I was happy to find my temple-philia had returned and enjoyed myself thoroughly wandering this this Daoist shrine. The stone was all a very darky carved bit of rock, well warn in parts by those hoping for good luck. Each of the individual rooms held different altars, which you aren't allowed to photograph, but each depicting a seperate Daoist deity. My favorite held the founding god flanked by the eight immortals, four on each side. But in front of the founding god stood two cylindrical cones of light. Pretty, shiny things mesmerize me, and thus sat and stared for a while.



I nailed that little bell in the middle of the coin with my first and only available attempt as I had but one .5RMB coin in my pocket. I've received eternal peace. These are the colors of a varsity athlete.



Such pinache'! A witty perspective shot! Will this blog ever stoop lower and lower?!

His truth is marching on!

Xuan Zang, the monk-hero of "Journey to the West" and the man responsible for bringing a cavalcade of Buddhist scriptures from India back to China, only then to spend years upon years translating them. His journey began in Xi'An, and ended back here in Xi'An, right here at the Big Goose Pagoda. This is where XuanZang sequestered himself till his death, working all the while at his books.

A monk gave me a cherry tomato. Cherry tomatoes are much tastier than Communion bread.

We climbed the pagoda, seven stories up and nothing after Hua Shan hike. At the top we got a real beautiful outlook on the fog. Wow. Not sure if winter is always like that there, but wow. That was a lot of fog we saw. Plans for coffee were made as we headed back out and through this Tiananmen-sized shopping ring: huge multi-storied visitor centers and KFCs, that sort of thing. But first the Little Goose Pagoda.

The Little Goose is under renovation, and the gardens are kinda dismantled for winter, so this somehow gave the place a spooky feeling at time. Especially with the fog. A few funny signs, though, which I'll post up later.

In the Muslim Quarter I packed up for the train ride: apples, dried kiwis, some cakes. A few trinkets as well, gifts for myself and others. But before I talk any more about shopping I need to show off the greatest find of the whole trip:



I found it outside the Temple of the Eight Immortals that morning. Bargaining was intense, and I knocked the price down pretty far, but if it ain't annoying knowing that you can't walk away from any purchase 100% sure you didn't just get taken. Regardless, I wasn't NOT going to buy this thing, that I had already decided.

It's a spring loaded dart gun, I believe the woman called it a "ShouPao" or "hand-canon." Crafted from copper its got heft, and the spring is rather strong so the bolt gets some good force behind it. Certainly not an in strument to be reckoned with. Many of my students have labeled it an "AnQi" or "secret weapon," the kinda thing an old kungfu master might hide up his sleeve for an unexpected attack. Coooool. I've used it as a teaching tool this week, doing a fun "stick your hand in the bag and describe what you feel" activity.

Commerce complete, time had come to depart from our Silk Road terminus of Xi'An and board a train back home; first cutting east into ShanDong then turning sharply north all the way back to Qiqiha'r, northewest from Harbin. I read Clavell's "Gai-Jin," which follows "Tai-Pan" in the Asian Saga. I read "Tai-Pan" when I traveled back from Beijing after meeting up with Jay in July so it was fun dipping back into that story. I like the idea of the "Tai-Pan" and have been known to identify with it at times. Jokingly of course. Yes... jokingly...

Thus concludes our coverage of your Man in Asia's Spring Festival travel adventures. Future anecdotes might one be day regurgitated, but we have a lot of news to catch up on. But next: Silly Engrish Signs!"

Thats A Big Twinkie

After hiking up and (most of the way) down Hua Shan, the leggies cried out for a day of rest. Not that that was going to happen! While we might have covered the most distance on this, our final full day in ShanXi Province, we didn't do too much walking.

The plan was to head out to the border of GanSu, the province that opens up the wild west of China. I mentioned before that Xi'An is China's westernmost 'civilized' city, well, I say that because Chinese people themselves don't understand why anyone would anyone would want to go any further west from there. "Its too poor!" "The people are too stupid!" "There is China west of Xi'An?" I guess we could associate Xi'An to China the way we associate East St. Louis to the United States of America.

But being a Buddha-holic, a strong calling attracted me to a 3-hour bus ride out into this wide-open wilderness. We spent the morning driving across flat, low-growth orchards of some sort of barby fruit tree (never got a good guess as to what it was) eventually to snake up and through mountains. These werent as epic as Hua Shan, but seemed more like mud pies left behind by a world-shaping toddler. In fact, I wouldn't give much emphasis to the views of the rising mountains so much as the incredible gorges that sheared through them. These drops would open up out of no where and amaze the crap out of me. I'm no geologist, but after seeing an uncountable number of small caves dug into these mountainsides (for storage, religious meditation, and habitation) it was easy to conclude that the rock was not a hardy one and prone to such manipulation.

Eventually we did make it out to a post town of sorts: not so much a real town as just the central point for the entire county to come for market, bus pickup, and postal services. Jumped a motor-trike and headed to "DaFoSi," or "Big buddha Temple."

As we keep bringing up Indian Jones towards this vacation, I'll do it again: this temple, carved into the side of a mountain, was reminiscent of the Grail Temple in "Last Crusade," but of course Asianed-out Surrounding it was a small village and more small caves. The temple itself was rather straight forward, or so it seemed, but as we explored we found many grottoes that required one to climb up via rusty chain or sneak behind altars. Some of the more interesting bits were locked off; namely a grotto containing hundreds of "arhats," which might be like apostles of the Buddha (NOT boddhivastras/boddhisatvas [SP?]). Fun to clamor about and poke around, especially since once again we were the only ones there.

The big draw, and I do mean big, awaited within the center chamber of the temple. Standing 30 meters tall (approx 100 feet) and sitting in the center of the room facing out away from the mountain: one big Buddha. Big. I've never seen one so big. Obviously touched up to maintain its appearance over the years, the skin sparkeled gold, the hair blue, big-ol'-kissable-Buddha-lips red. To the sides: an 18 meter statue of GuanYin (China's favorite Buddha) and some other Buddha. Seeing the two flanking statues leaning in towards the center of the chamber sent an immediate desire to jump upon one of their heads only to push it over, crashing through the wall, thus bringing myself and Marion to safety.

I've got a real Indiana Jones problem. I admit it. But damned if I'm ashamed of it.

We took in the temple for about an hour, then headed back to the bus stop for the 3 hour ride back to Xi'An. An easy day, finished with a delectable multi-course meal at a moderately fancy restaurant. One dish, some sort of stringy bread dealie-do, tasted so good I shivered. Lots of cashews too, and thats never a bad thing. I think we could all benefit from using cashews more often in our cooking. But I've always know this, ever since I was young and my father would scold any young Bill caught simply picking out the cashews alone from his tins of mixed nuts.

One more day left in Xi'An, then a 45 hour train ride. Thankee the Lord for iPods and books.

They Go Up

Ah, the new year. At least the new Chinese year. Fresh in the heat of the dog, the time had come to leave the comforts of Xi'An and undertake the most physically rigorous leg of the vacation: scaling Hua Shan.

I believe I shared the story of Pan Gu and the 5 holy Daoist mountains of China back in May when i climbed Tai Shan. Take a look, if not, I'll have to post it here soon. But of the 5, Hua Shan might be known as the most rigorous climb, but as I've been working quite a bit lately (191 pounds! 191 pounds! Thats approx 30 lost since coming to China!) I was personally ready.


Hey, who's that handsome devil? That brave climber from abroad ready to tackle Hua Shan?


After being stared at during a bus ride and through a smal village, we entered the Jade Fountain Temple, open to the public for free for the holiday. This place, a rather run of the mill Daoist temple, simply swarmed with those taking advantage of the free entrance fee. Once we moved beyond it, and the ticket price jumped to 50 RMB, well, we were pretty much alone.

The climb started easy enough: as with all other Chinese mountains, they've prepped to accomodate a ridiculous mass of people at any one time and thus have lain a walkway/stairway to handle all the traffic. On this particular day, traffic topped around 7, which we'll get to later. But the mountain itself, right from the beginning, offered majestic and drastic cuts of rock face on all sides. Still hovering around freezing, many small waterfalls had become tumbling ice flows. The fog was still in full force, however, so we were unfortunately robbed of certain vistas. All the pity, but what are you gonna do? In fact, I actually kinda liked the fogged out heights, as it left what lay beyond to my imagination. As Hua Shan is not the holiest mountain of China, its often considered "the first," probably as it lies well within the cradle of the nation. Artists have painted an infinite number of pictures of Hua Shan with monks sitting in contemplation upon the peaks as dragons danced in the void beyond; its easy to see why that might be the case when you can't even see whats in that void beyond.


Hey, who's that handsome devil perched in front of that ice flow?

Now, as mentioned, the mountain was pretty empty as most Chinese were home gorging on dumplings and scaring away the evil monster Nian through red banners and fireworks, but we did meet a few fellow travelers on our climb up. 4 were from GuangDong, in the south of China: 2 young women and their boyfriends. The girls were English teachers, one for tykes and one in a university, which was great as we taught each other back and forth as we climb. One of the guys was a professional photographer and a weathered mountain hiker, the other shared the same name with a hero from "Romance of the Three Kingdoms," another Chinese classic. I actually mentioned this as he introduced himself and it blew all the Chinese away. For some reason Chinese can't fathom why any foreigner would ever have any interest in their culture/history. (While I am working my way through that book, I didn't tell them I was first introduced to the story thanks to a fantastic old-school 8-bit Nintendo game.) The last traveler was a middle aged man who also has climbed many a Chinese mountain. He spoke no English, and we would become roommates later in the evening, but he gave me a lot of advice towards visiting China's most scenic natural wonders. All together, foreigner blokes included, we number seven, and agreed to stick together to negotiate the cheapest possible hotel rate once we reached the summit. It was a fellowship. This correllation ws beaten to death by the time we eventually headed back to Xi'An.

Now the climb itself was a bit harrowing at times. As mentioned, Hua Shan is steep, and at a few instances we were pulling ourselves up by chains or risking plummets that most certainly would end in nothing but death. From the base we kept hiking up and up, only taking a considerable rest to warm up with some "douzhou" or bean drink of some sort which is a bit like milk but not. A few stretches were incredibly narrow, forcing me to guffaw in disbelief that anyone would get anywhere on this mountain during peak travel times. But through cave and cliff, the North Peak was eventually reached. From there it was the East Peak and a night's rest.


Hey, who's that handsome devil hawking the merits of good, warm "douzhou?"

Waking up the next morning the fog decided that no sunrise would be seen, but by 8 AM one could see far enough to take in the surrounding peaks and mountains. Quite majestic, as the fog and cloud still drifted in and out of the ravines; and, even more so, it had snowed during the night and so everything was a pristine and delicate white. I might go so far as to say I've never seen anything so gorgeous.

Once we set out we hiked around to the other peaks, foregoing only the West Peak, only accessible by a 500 foot walkway barely wide enough for two people, frozen over, and lacking a protectionary chain on one side. Heading back down I got stopped by many more Chinese than we had seen the previous day, all asking the same questions: "Do you speak Chinese?' "Is it safe to continue?" Due to the snowfall most of the steps had a dangerous layer of black ice acorss their tops (hence chickening out of the Western Peak) so their questions were certianly validated. My companion had had enough of the climb by this point though, so we cheated and took a gondola down and made our way back through the village to a bus and back to Xi'An. Another day done, and another unforgettable China experience.


Who IS that handsome devil? Really now?

Qin & The Family Stone

Saturday, the equivalent of New Year's Eve, we jumped on a bus and headed out to tour the sites east of Xi'An. Joining us was a pair of Spaniards, father and son, and some Chinese. The bus had two guides, one who spoke English just for us, but I spent as much time as I could practicing my Chinese with him.

Anywho, first stop was the museum that purchased the first terra-cotta warriors. The story goes that in 1974, while digging a well, four farmers struck clay gold and pulled up four life-sized figures. Not knowing what the statues were, the farmers dragged them down the road to a local museum that purchased all four warriors for 28RMB (about $4). From there, its recent history.

More interesting than the warriors, at least at this museum, was a display holding the crystalized remains of the Buddha which were housed in a smal silver coffin itself housed in a slightly large gold coffin. I couldn't get a picture as it was behind two layers of glass, but it was the sort of artifact that Indiana Jones movies are made about.

Next up was a small mountain, notable for two military coups:
1. Long long ago China was reigned by a dynasty named the Zhou. The Zhou, who ruled from Xi'An, used this mountain to light beacon fires when help was needed in defending the nation from foreign hordes. Well, apparently one empress was a prudish little sourpuss and refused to smile. So stoic was she, that even upon receiving some of the most illustrious of visitors and their wonderful gifts she wouldn't eek a smirk. The guests were furious and the next time the beacon fire was lit, they stayed at home in spite and the Zhou dynasty fell, or better said, was forced to relocate. Thus divides the Western and Eastern Zhou Dynasties.
2. Not so long ago China was divided between the Nationalists and the Communists. Meanwhile, Japan was busy invading China. All Chinese knew they needed to unite to defeat the Japanese, but neither side would capitulate to the other and spent more time fighting each other instead of against the true, Japanese enemy. Well, long story short, the Communists eventually got the Nationalists and their leader Chiang KaiShek (a brutal Romanization of his name, Jiang JieShi) on the run and ol' KaiShek took to hiding in this here mountain. The Commies eventually found him though and forced him to unite his army with theirs. I big monument to the Party stands now at the foot of Chiang's craggy hiding spot, where one may ascend to take a picture or spit.

We kept stepping back into history and soon found ourselves in a recreation of QinShiHuang's (that first emperor guy) underground mausoleum. Now, the actual mausoleum has yet to be excavated and may never be, as the Chinese would never want to destroy the treasure within nor might they want to know the truth. Qin ShiHuang is a bit like the Holy Grail for the Chinese, their Jesus, and we're not gonna besmirch his legacy any time soon. But the recreation itself is awe-inspiring. A huge model of the original gounds is set out to view, giving you an idea of just how magnificent this guy's funeral must have been. His grave alone would be about half the size of the Forbidden City: an epic burial mound in the center surrounded by palaces and underground armies. Alas, all but the tomb suffered destruction under the hands of angry peasants thousands of years ago, but this tourist trap is still cool. One of my favorite facts; the coffin of QinShiHuang is laid out over a recreation of the world, or at least as he knew it at the time, and the detail is immense. But the really interesting part is that all the water was represented by flowing mercury. So much mercury, in fact, the ground is still contaminated to this very day. Imperial eco-terrorism. One way to leave your mark, eh?

After the reconstruction, we visited the actual tomb. As mentioned, its nothing more than a big hill now, but we did get to take in a ceremonial offering to the big guy, including a dance of the 12 animals of the Chinese Zodiac. (Go monkey!)

With the pre-game over, time came for the big show: the terra-cotta warriors. Again, this was China's New Year's Eve, Christmas Eve, Easter, and Arbor Day all rolled into one, meaning that the Terra-Cotta Warriors Museum was as busy as metal-pole licking stand in coldest January. It was awesome. No lines, not hordes, no noise, it was as if I wasn't in China for the day. Even most of the crap-hawkers had taken off for the holiday, though the onese left behind were still wuite persistant and annoying.

Before actually taking in the digs we were treated to a movie: "The Eighth Wonder of the World." Obviously dated, the film gave the viewer a brief history of QinShiHuang, the construction of the warriors and mausoleum, and their subsequent destruction. While at first description you're probably thinking of scratchy '70s educational films ("Hi, I'm Troy McLure!), and you should, there is one last detail: THE FILM WAS DISPLAYED IN 360 DEGREES! I've never seena gimmick like this before, but it was one hell of a gimmick, even if it did leave me dizzy as I kept spinning in circles trying to take it all in.

Then came the pits. Wow. I can't describe just how huge these things are. As it stands, there are only 3 digs open and many more untouched. Pit 1 is the largest, and its one of the largest single rooms I've ever been in. The ranks of soldiers go on and on and on, and the vast majority is still under the earth! The first pit, the largest again, holds mostly common rank and file soldiers, foot soldiers, maybe a few chariots. Pit 2 gives us more leadership, generals and such, distinguished by their taller stature. Pit 3 has even more chariots and a good amount of archers.

Now apparently these warriors all had been painted, and when first unearthed still retained thier color for about three days before detriorating. Also, not a single warrior has been unearthed complete, and the archaeologists have not always been spot-on in rebuilding them. If you pay attention, you'll find warriors with two left hands, mismatched limbs, and chariot drivers sitting in the back seat of their chariots. All the more reason why the Chinese are holding off on any future excavation until technology develops.

After all the touring and history, the day came to an end and we bused back to the city for a quick rest. Being Spring Festival, we wanted to feast on the traditional Spring Festival dish of dumplings, and pounded the streets looking for an otherwise omnipresent Chinese delight. However, even as early as 6 PM, even in a city of 7 million, not a single Chinese restaurant was open. Forced upon us, as the only option: Pizza Hut. I felt quite embarrassed, even a little gross (I don't like Pizza Hut anywhere, anytime). This was like eating, well, Pork Lo Mein on Thanksgiving. Luckily the staff (visibly unhappy to be working) just passed us off as silly foreigners.

Which we were.


Hey, who's that handsome devil leading an uncountable army of clay warriors?