Thursday, February 15, 2012

The hotel in Xi’an caters to locals and so the food is authentic Chinese breakfast. A cook is frying eggs for everyone lined up. There are two kinds of porridge-a thin polenta and congee.  A variety of kinds of tofu, in strips, in cutlets, in squares, along with some soft spongy kinds of cake-lie offerings.  Many vegetable offerings-pickled, lightly and strongly seasoned, all cooked. No drinks however, other than coffee (none for boys) or tea. The boys discover a refrigerator, which holds cartons of milk and juice and the fridge is raided and soon emptied.  We check out of the hotel and are on the bus for an hour drive to the Terra-Cotta Warrior Museum. Along the way I distribute another round of candy generously donated by Leslie. Boys are most grateful and enjoy a sweet taste of home. Along the way, our local guide Howard gives us information, first about his hometown of Xi’an, and then about the warriors-their history and details about what we are to see.  We see a pattern of many things being “very important” and when you have such a long cultural history, there is much importance to discuss. Howard is especially proud of his hometown and gives the boys a great deal of information about the city, its history, the city wall surrounding Xi’an (the largest city wall anywhere in the world)-lit up at night as we snake through Xi’an morning traffic.  Soon we arrive at the museum.  We stop at a KFC for a bathroom, not food, break, get our tickets and head to the first of 3 pits.  Pit 1 is the largest pit, consisting of mostly food soldiers and (I think I have this right) flank men.  In total there are about 8000 warriors excavated to date.  Although locals had seen fragments of the warriors for years, it wasn’t until 1974 that a local farmer, attempting to dig a well during a drought, discovered a head.  Frightened and fearing ill fortune, he contacted a local official.  Eventually the government sent archeologists and now excavation continues in pits 2 and 3. Although almost all of the originals warriors were destroyed when the hated emperor died, the pieces were painstakingly restored to the exact location they were discovered.  It seems that there were molds for the head, torso, arms and legs. Heads were personalized to look like the individual soldier represented by the warrior. Hairstyle and helmet (or lack thereof) reflect rank along with costume.  The original warriors were quite colorful but oxidized quickly when exposed to the air and are all clay-colored now. There are so many and it is fascinating to see the scope of them all, lined neatly in long rows.  Many have their hands positioned to hold the bronze spears or other objects that accompanied them. Though the spears are gone, the position remains. The horses have their tails knotted so they don’t get caught in a chariot. I attempt to take a documentary photo of every boy in front of the pit. All but one has his eyes open as we move quickly along.  Because it is so cold, the museum is not nearly as crowded as it was when I last visited in April, when it was wall-to-wall tourists. We go to an Imax type of theater and see a 15 minute movie about the history of the warriors-their creation, destruction and restoration. From there to lunch-specially set up for tourists.  Our guide goes to a back room to eat local food, which I would prefer.  A variety of appetizers are set up along the walls.  It seems that every table in the room is speaking another language.  At the head of the room are two stations set up for noodle-making.  One is a thin noodle sliced from a large block into boiling water then scooped into a bowl of broth.  The other, far more fabulous dish are local noodles, hand cut into wider strips with a spicy, brown pork sauce. The boys line up again and again for more noodles.  Tourist entrees are brought to the table-slices of winter melon deep fried in what appears to be a yellow (lemon?) sauce, celery with bits of meat, some type of meatball about the size of a fingernail in a brown sauce and about six other dishes. Chris, culinary expert, and I discuss the potential flavorings. He has an amazing vocabulary and culinary knowledge and it is a joy to sit with him at meals. On a table near the entrance are large bottles of “wine” which I am guessing is actually infused vodka.-pomegranate, seahorse, ginseng are three offerings.  I taste the pomegranate and Evan tries to sea horse-a first and probably last for him. Documentary photos to come later of the jars holding them. From lunch we continue viewing the rest of the pits, which are still undergoing excavation.  The boys seem excited to see a human bone found in a pit.  The chaperons are busy counting, boys, scurrying them along. Along the way, there are gift shops tucked into the edge of the pit. Liam and Dane but holographic images of their heads superimposed on a terra-cotta warrior body. They light up when twisted glowing indigo.  You won’t find this in the states to be sure.  We head outside and instead of going to the mausoleum to see the burial place of the emperor, we head outside to do some shopping or strolling in warmer, slightly sunny weather. Though we have yet to see a blue sky, the sky is a bluer shade of gray, and with relaxed standards is turning into lovely strolling weather.  They love to bargain.  They love to bargain and shop and share their excitement about their purchases.  Someone has bought what appears to be a straw vase that turns into a hat, or a decorative item. I have bought an antique pin from the Cultural Revolution with a sun rising over the new China. Boys are happy to be outside, strolling with their buddies and with chaperones nearby.  Back to the bus for a ride to South Lake Park in Xi’an for some local recreation.  Justin does tai chi on a stone set by the lake.  Boys play a football like game with a half-filled water bottle.  Others run, chase, jump up and down on tall benches.  Good to be outside and a tad free. In the background, loud music plays from the local radio station. Back on the bus to dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. This will turn out to be my favorite dinner.  I sit with Chris again and 7 other boys at a large, square, wooden table.  As we walk in we can see the station where dough is being rolled.  Soon little sandwiches will appear in paper sleeves filled with delicious shredded meat.  Shaved noodles appear in wide conical bowls with three types of sauce. The waitress mixes our noodles individually with our chopsticks.  Chris remarks on what he thinks is “drunken chicken”, braised in wine, a small chicken that can be easily separated with a chopstick- moist and wonderfully flavored.  Vegetable dishes come, one after the next. Chris remarks on the herbaceous quality, the use of white pepper and its distinctive taste at the back of the throat, and the types of oils frequently used in Chinese cooking.  Our tour guide Howard hovers nearby making sure everyone is happy.  The manager is nearby and I have Howard tell him that this is the best meal I have had in China.  He is delighted and takes Ms. Huang and I on a tour of his restaurant, including his “party room.”  He is especially proud of a shelf that has glasses neatly stacked…not quite sure why he wants me to take a picture of this special shelf, but I do which seems to please him.  The waitresses have colorful uniforms and I take a picture of them as well. As long as the camera is out I videotape the fellow at the front station rolling out the dough for the “sandwiches” we ate.  He uses a long dowel, rolling, then pressing it into the dough to make long indentations, spaced about two inches apart.  He turns the dough at a 90-degree angle. Very attractive until he flips the dough and rolls it around his dowel.  We are leaving and I will not see the end product.  Back to the bus for what I know will be a nutty time getting into the old Xi’an train station. This is not the lovely new one.  The bus must park about10 minutes away and we walk on a path rolling our luggage along the light city wall.  We arrive at the train station and it is just crazy.  There is a huge crowd of people.  Chaperons are strategically stationed as we don’t want to lose anyone or their luggage.  I’m at the end with Simona who has an eye on everyone.  I switch suitcases with George, who is having trouble navigating his case through the crowd.  We finally get to the line for security where our baggage and backpacks will be x-rayed.  It is 7:20 and our train leaves at eight.  Simona and I watch the clock as we inch forward. Every three minutes, the crowd surges forward without a care to the others standing in this sea of people. I can see Evan waiting, helping boys get their luggage, already through security. I’m keeping my eyes on the boys in front of me, making sure they are not trampled or swept away.  Locals are carrying boxes, bags, luggage, and children.  It is crazy and finally, finally we are through security.  Count off-all there! Up the escalator to the next level where we roll, roll, roll to a staircase.  Up three flights-why? When they know there are platforms above and people with much to carry.  Luckily there is less pushing and much more lugging up, up, up the dark (at least could there be more lighting?) stairwell to…a descending staircase.  But there is a platform in sight. We are on the very end.  We pass people dragging unusual things.  Two people have square silver boxes, with shiny metal ends, without wheels.  It seems they don’t care that they are dragging their boxes across a train platform and scraping them to smithereens. But we are now boarding the train. Very orderly.  Boys take all their luggage to their cubicle and wait for Mr. Jackson to remove what cannot be stored. They settle in with each other, electronics, books and the gentle rocking of the rain, which, though lovely for most, causes motion sickness for some.  Thank goodness for the Dramamine we distribute to Albert, Louis and Nicholas, who all fall asleep. Nicholas is sick and is sleeping in a cubicle with Mr. Jackson who keeps an eye on him.  The bathrooms function once the train takes off and a woman comes by to take the chaperon’s coffee order for the morning.  Lights out at 9:30 with a 6:30 wake-up knock, as we will arrive at 7:13.  Some boys take extra luggage and I take Nicholas as we leave the station in the bitter cold and navigate our way to the bus and our Beijing tour guide Aaron, who makes alternate arrangements for Nicholas and I to spend the day in the hotel while others go to breakfast, the silk factory and later in the day, a visit with a local school.  We have been told that they will be doing a Kung Fu demonstration for us and we will sing the National Anthem, which we practice on the bus.  Two of the three choirboys can hit the high note and we are good to go, we feel. Lawrence will be joining us for lunch and perhaps, he will play for our Chinese hosts if a piano is available. Or perhaps not.  Timmy is practicing the notes on the ukulele he brought and we are hopeful that we will impress, or if not, at least make an impression. Boys are looking forward to the fifteen minutes of socializing that the teachers have provided in their busy academic day. Let us hope there will be pleasant chatting and some connecting, if we can get through the initial awkwardness in the time allotted. Few Chinese have the opportunity to dialogue with native speakers and our guide tells us how special this will be for the Chinese students. And certainly for us as well.