Xi'an, China (25 July 2014): Warriors in Clay

25 July 2014

Ready to be carved in stone?

West Peak, Hua Shan Mountains, Shanxi Province, China

The Hua Shan mountains are a collection of sheer peaks holy to Taoism 2 hours outside Xi’an. They jut from the surrounding plane like the cockpit of an airplane crash extruding through a wall. If the crash site had bonsai like trees, little temples and thousands of pad locks and prayers adorning it. (ed. Gracie calls them “dumplings” in the video. She’s right, too!) Whatever their geological bone fides, the Hua Shan are a wonderful accident – at one point distant and inaccessible, now chinked with steps from the very granite. And, therefore inevitably, covered with tourists. It is a testament to their grandeur that they survive their popularity!

They were not, I can say, all that popular with the younger set. But it wasn’t Gracie that struggled the hardest. It was Liam. Moments ago while we snuggled he said, “You’re the best Dad in the whole world” It’s a common litany, but always makes me smile. Tonight he added, “Thanks for encouraging me to get here.” That warranted a deep hug.

“Encouragement” is a thoughtful phrase for Mr. Liam and would not have been his description at 4 or even 3 pm this afternoon. “No, Dad. No, I’m not going any further.” “I can’t do it, Dad. I just can’t. Dad!” Seeing your boy pout through some of the most beautiful scenery mankind has access to on Earth causes a little death inside. Of course in the event he always did proceed. We would continue, leaving him there perched on some step or fantastical bend in the path. We would continue a little further until Gracie – always game to continue, but frustrated by how many of the stairs went up and how few went down or sideways – needed a breather. Then Liam would come trotting along, steel-faced and resentful. But he came. They both did. I’m proud of them all, but most proud of Carrie who drank in the vistas and whose mood was unperturbed by the challenging climb. Not quite true – Carrie has always had a terrible fear of heights, a trait that her brother liked to provoke by sitting particularly close to the edge. Even without her brothers’ help, the trails switched back between sharp drop-offs, and in one place the chipped steps climbed a ridge with cliffs dropping away to both sides. At another time in her life her fear would have been crippling. Today she bit her tongue, focused on the task, and move forward. She came out with me later to watch the sunset, proud and ready. Tomorrow we’re doing the sunrise, too.

Xi’an has been full-on tourism. We arrived three mornings ago at 4:30 am – about 4 hours early than I would have chosen and about 2 hours earlier than our kind hotelier could manage to prepare our rooms. Walking the streets of the Chinese city before sunrise in full packs with 3 children belies description and is really something that must be experienced to be appreciated. Suffice to say that Dad’s capacity to ask directions at just the right intersection to avoid making a wrong turn saved my reputation from further skewering by Gracie.

A little fisheye goes a long way!

Of course the reason to come to Xi’an is for the warriors. Terra cotta warriors. We did those yesterday and had a good time. We had an English-speaking guide, but in the event that meant that she told us in clear English where she was going to be waiting for us after we had experienced this or that archeological event. She never actually did any guiding per se. The kids were good until 12:30, at which point being a little behind schedule (because of us) they began to get hungry, tired and cranky before we were done seeing what of the terra cotta army has been unearthed. I’ve resorted to bribery – for each hour they could hold it together, they’d earn a ¥ (Chinese Yuan), a technique I chartered back in Chongqing and something of an indication of what is required to keep an 8 and a 10 year-old on target during long days. In their defense they earned 5 of the 7 ¥ available that day. And what is there really to say about this massive army after all we’ve seen and studied? So what the tour may have lacked in novel insights, it more than made up for in family-friendly photo-ops. Perhaps because of the higher ticket price, perhaps because of all the marble and granite, or perhaps because I was bringing a family, but whatever the reason it felt more remarkable today to than it did when I first visited the site in 1989.

I was 20 years old and had just taken the train from Hong Kong. I was young for a global traveler, as I am now older than other Westerners traveling in Asia. The terra cotta warrior complex was not much to speak of – I recall a large airplane hanger, and plexiglass behind which stood the eternal army. Outside a small museum, about the size of a convenience store, contained a few more pieces behind plate glass obscured by dust. For travelers’ convenience, several copies of warriors and horses had been sculpted outside for posing. Of course China has rocketed forward in 25 years, but the change to one of its most sacred modern totems perhaps captures it best. Fittingly, the complex is as much a temple as an archeological showpiece. The buildings are made of severe white stones with steps up to lend awe (the steps are ironic because one must walk down again to get to the site). One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is that science still hasn't delivered a means to maintain the color once unearthed, so 90-some% of the army remained interred.