Day 18 - Saturday, Nov. 2 - Xian

Xian was already the world’s largest city when Constantinople became great.  And it’s still huge.
       We’re headed out of the city to see the terra cotta warriors, before dawn, which is 7 a.m. here, not 5:30 as in Beijing further east (by one time zone, if China permitted time zones, which it doesn’t).

       On the road we see people doing tai chi in parks, alone or
in groups, and pass Xian’s 30-foot-high walls, atop which chariots used to roll during the Ming Dynasty 300 years ago.  I notice crosswalks here are ignored; people cross anywhere.  Both Stanley and Amber cover facettes of Chinese life and history during our trip, answering questions such as “are there homeless people?” (not many), or “is there welfare?” (no, people are expected to work unless ill or handicapped), or “is abortion legal?” (yes, but you pay the bill), or “under the one-child law, can you have a second child?” (yes, if your first was handicapped or you divorced and remarried someone with no children), or “do people speak other languages? (now everyone has to learn English), or “are classes big?” (yes, about 60 pupils each), or “are teachers well paid?” (reasonably, but they’re viewed with honor), or “are there nuclear power plants?” (yes, two, and there will be no more).  Amber notes that women are still not the total equals of men; things were better under the Tangs, when life was good and women could even divorce.
       Stanley holds Chinese class, teaching us a few words.  “Hung hao” means “very good”, as does the more colloquial “ting ting hao” (to which you can add as many tings as you want).  “Bu” means no, and if you add a “hao” it means “not good”: “bu hao”.
       All this distance the bus crosses will be connected to Xian by subway within two years.  For the moment what isn’t high-rise is still covered by some persimmon and pomegranate orchards, the only things easily grown in this climate and soil.
       The road runs along the mountain range that divides China, north from south, with two rivers running nearby.  As with the Summer Palace in Beijing, the emperor mounded up earth to make a hill behind and water in front.  Good feng shui.  Here the mound is his tomb, like the Ming Tombs north of Beijing.  The hill is now only half its original size, thanks to erosion.  Why did the emperor come all the way out here?  For the hot springs, and he built a winter palace here.

It was a farmer who found the terra cotta warriors 45 years ago, in 1974, while digging a well.  And that small event has turned this village into a city.  The farmer always refused any payment from the government; the honor was enough for him.  That and being asked by visiting U.S. President Clinton for his autograph.  He worked at the museum for 20 years, signing books when asked.
       The choice of the site now seems logical:  two rivers, to the north and west, and mountains to the south, but the tomb one mile away was not protected to the east, so that’s where the warriors stand, facing any robber-invaders.  (Of course, the site was robbed, and early on, the bronze weapons stolen, the statues broken, a fire set... but the original intention was to protect the grave.)
       Emperor Qin Shi Huang came to power at age 13 and set about building his tomb.  700,000 workers labored for 28 years, but he died aged 49, two years before his tomb was finished (thanks to his son).  The largest tomb in the world (says Amber).  It has never been opened and never will be.  One reason is respect; another is that the archaeologists saw the damage done unearthing the terra cotta warriors.  Yet another is that the emperor poisoned his tomb with lots and lots of mercury, to discourage robbers; some of it has seeped out over the years.
       There are three pits of warriors (unearthed so far), creating a whole underground kingdom, with various government bureaus and a military headquarters.  The first pit, the largest, is the one the farmer discovered.  No records were ever found concerning this project, maybe again to deter robbers.  It is row upon row of warriors, some with horses... and each warrior has a different face, a different expression, a slightly different build and stance.  Originally they held bronze weapons, but most were stolen.  Two thousand warriors are visible but there were 4,000 more.  None lay under the partitions whose purpose was to hold up a roof.  After stealing the weapons and breaking some of the statues, the robbers set fire to the structure.  Around 200 B.C., the roof collapsed and gradually mud covered the site.
       The body parts of the warriors were molded separately, joined together, then personalized, fired and painted, though little of the paint is left after several millennia.  Their legs are solid, to keep them upright, but the bodies are hollow, with a vent in the neck to keep them from cracking and exploding when fired.
       As we walk along the rows, front to back, Amber points out a few individual warriors.  One is a charioteer taller and skinnier than the others.  Another is the only one not facing forward, with a resolute face and ready for battle.  Instead he’s turned to the right and his expression is wistful... maybe homesick or missing his wife.
       In the pit at the rear are tables and equipment for piecing the warriors back together.
       Then we’re off next door to Pit 3.  This is the smallest; it’s the warriors’ headquarters.  There are two rooms.  One is the stables, complete with horses; the other is the HQ office.  There were no weapons here so nothing to damage.  This was discovered two years after Pit 1.
       Last comes Pit 2, with an estimated additional 2,000 reserve warriors in addition to the main forces of Pit 1.  Each of the warriors weighs 200-400 pounds (90-180 kg) and must have had to be transported by some sort of trolley.  They haven’t all been uncovered, in order to protect them, but a few are in display cases.  One is a kneeling archer, another is standing.  There are also two bronze chariots which are not from here because the ones that were once here were wooden and burned up in the fire.

       There are so many people - and the Chinese are “crowders” - that I start to have the screaming ab-jabs.  Luckily, we’ve seen it all (it takes hours!) And we set off on foot through the vendors who have set up shop between the pits and the parking lot.  It’s a Long March to the bus.  Oh, for a golf cart like on the way in!
       We’re whisked off for a traditional lunch and are greeted by a traditional emperor, complete with robe.  After yet another delicious lunch, we’re invited to dress up in period costumes.

Then back to Xian for a stroll atop the city walls... or a bike ride.  (After all, chariots rolled up here; it’s 45 feet wide!)  I walk a bit with some of the ladies, enjoying the great view of the park, the moat and the city beyond from 40 feet up.  But we can’t even make it to the corner tower; it’s just too far for the time we’re allotted.  The entire wall is almost 9 miles long (14 km) and we don’t have the four hours it would take.
       Back at the hotel, Professor Alec Murphy, from the University of Oregon, gives his first talk of the trip, this one on Selected Geographic Influences in Chinese History.  Then it’s dinner on your own.  I’m not hungry.  Besides, our wake-up call is at 4 a.m. tomorrow, so... to bed!