Warriors, Muslims & X'ian
X'ian was grey when I arrived after an overnight train a few days ago and it stayed that way until I left on an overnight train the night after. The city is congested and polluted like every other big city in China. However, it does have it's charms. I didn't realize this right away because my first experience in X'ian involved sweating profusely while waiting in line for three hours at the train station. The first thing I noticed then was that queing had come to China. Sure, it wasn't a voluntary act (as it is still being enforced by police officers at the train stations ticket halls) but nonetheless, it has arrived. Something makes me wish they would enforce the no smoking and no spitting laws as well but Rome wasn't built in a day.
Once outside the train station I jumped on a city bus to see the 8th wonder of the world, the Terracotta Warriors. My advice to anyone going to see them is:
1) bring comfy shoes. The parking lot is miles from the museum and pits.
2) bring bug spray. The walk leads through a park with lots of flying thingies.
3) don't see pit number 1 first or else pit 2 and 3 won't hold your attention beyond a quick glance.
4) if you see the old grudgy guy outside the cinema signing books, buy one! That's the farmer who discovered the warriors and by the looks of him, he won't be around much longer. Don't expect him to smile. He ain't happy. The Commies are forcing this job on him. I didn't buy one because I had no clue who he was until I asked someone at the hostel that night.
Back at the hostel I watched a British girl cut her flu medication into a fine powder, form it into lines and snort it with a one yuan bill. Right after that, thankfully, I ran into the Dutch guys again. Apparently my love of street food left it's mark on these two in the form of a foot infection (Marcel cut his feet on his sandals walking) and diarreah (Marc couldn't handle the spice). That's the last time I'm going out with two whities for dinner. Marcel clearly didn't learn his lesson (and neither did I) because when I suggested a late night walk down the street for spicy noodles he was all over it. We took Batman (a Spanish guy that studies bats) and the Frenchie with us. It was warm out but really, those guys were drenched in sweat, guzzling back those beers as fast as they could after each bite. When I asked the French guy if he wanted to continue traveling he said "I don't know. I would like to own a plasma and maybe have some children." Batman hadn't heard a single word. He was busy identifying the species of bat he was hearing in the trees covering the sidewalk. I turned to the Dutch guy and he just started telling me a story of how he got Hepititis B.... It wasn't from contaminated food. I asked.
The following day I took my last leisurely walk through X'ian's Muslim quarter. It's filled with mosques, lanes crammed with souvenirs and tons of food options. Tim and I met some kids in a park and played around on the slides with them for a while before trying to find our way back to the main street. Stringy bearded men with white caps watched us kick up mud from the wet streets onto the back of our legs as we strolled past their stores. The lights came on just as we turned the corner and were surrounded once more by the familiar smells of kebabs.
Once outside the train station I jumped on a city bus to see the 8th wonder of the world, the Terracotta Warriors. My advice to anyone going to see them is:
1) bring comfy shoes. The parking lot is miles from the museum and pits.
2) bring bug spray. The walk leads through a park with lots of flying thingies.
3) don't see pit number 1 first or else pit 2 and 3 won't hold your attention beyond a quick glance.
4) if you see the old grudgy guy outside the cinema signing books, buy one! That's the farmer who discovered the warriors and by the looks of him, he won't be around much longer. Don't expect him to smile. He ain't happy. The Commies are forcing this job on him. I didn't buy one because I had no clue who he was until I asked someone at the hostel that night.
Back at the hostel I watched a British girl cut her flu medication into a fine powder, form it into lines and snort it with a one yuan bill. Right after that, thankfully, I ran into the Dutch guys again. Apparently my love of street food left it's mark on these two in the form of a foot infection (Marcel cut his feet on his sandals walking) and diarreah (Marc couldn't handle the spice). That's the last time I'm going out with two whities for dinner. Marcel clearly didn't learn his lesson (and neither did I) because when I suggested a late night walk down the street for spicy noodles he was all over it. We took Batman (a Spanish guy that studies bats) and the Frenchie with us. It was warm out but really, those guys were drenched in sweat, guzzling back those beers as fast as they could after each bite. When I asked the French guy if he wanted to continue traveling he said "I don't know. I would like to own a plasma and maybe have some children." Batman hadn't heard a single word. He was busy identifying the species of bat he was hearing in the trees covering the sidewalk. I turned to the Dutch guy and he just started telling me a story of how he got Hepititis B.... It wasn't from contaminated food. I asked.
The following day I took my last leisurely walk through X'ian's Muslim quarter. It's filled with mosques, lanes crammed with souvenirs and tons of food options. Tim and I met some kids in a park and played around on the slides with them for a while before trying to find our way back to the main street. Stringy bearded men with white caps watched us kick up mud from the wet streets onto the back of our legs as we strolled past their stores. The lights came on just as we turned the corner and were surrounded once more by the familiar smells of kebabs.
posted by LOTC at 7:04 AM
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