Xi’an (pronounced as Chicago)

As much as Beijing was without much character, Xi’an has shouldered much of that responsibility. Our quick flight to this western city plopped us about 35 miles north of its overwhelming sense of history and provided us with one of our China pleasures: Joe. Joe is our local guide, whose English and humor more than make up for our previous guide Victor’s sense of impending doom.

Xi’an is home to 8 million people and apparently anticipates about 8 million more to judge by the immense number of non-descript apartment skyscrapers that line every road in and out of the city’s core. The downtown is wrapped in a bow by an impressive city wall that entirely circles the historic center; the higher buildings are generally located outside of the walls. Our first of two evenings here we gamely rented bicycles on the top of the wall and wobbled around looking at the town from about 50 feet above it. Erin and I romantically chose a two-seater and pedaled from one beautifully outlined tower to another. The kids quickly darted off, the sense of freedom provided by 20-year-old bikes, no helmets, and no lights for the dark tour overriding their responsibility to maneuver cautiously.

Another big meal right before the bike ride was a dumpling fest. Joe assured us that we would have every dish explained in English as it was presented – and he was right. Our tiny waitress would roll her eyes up to the ceiling, and after reciting the appropriate word in her head several times, would come out with “fish” or “mushroom” as the case demanded. She looked a bit like a dumpling herself.

By the time we rolled up to the hotel, we were worn out by the sheer Xi’anness of it all. Most roads have arching trees that provide some relief from the heat – stronger here than in Beijing – and lend the city a slight provincial air. This small-town feel was further strengthened by the fact that Starbucks in Xi’an doesn’t open until 7:30 – one hour later than in Beijing. But Xi’an is a big city by any standards, and big cities can wear you out.

The next day (yesterday) was the critical highlight of the visit to Xi’an, as we visited the museum of the Terracotta warriors. Apparently all the Chinese who were visiting the Forbidden City a few days ago had followed us westwards. The tale of the finding of the Warriors is worthy of a book – and I bought it! While digging a well some 35 years ago, a simple farmer named Yang brought up some shards and, with the presence of mind brought on no doubt by the Cultural Revolution, promptly turned them over to the local authorities. Archaeologists were summoned from somewhere who quickly put an end to the well-digging and began the excavation of the largest tourist attraction ever seen this side of Disneyworld.

The warriors are definitely worth seeing in all of their various pits. There is far more to see in just a few short hours, but we saw what we could. The poorly filmed and scripted movie (surrounding the audience on all the walls of the round theater) was a 1980s effort at Cecile B. DeMille with an out-of-focus lens. Immediately outside the cinema was, yes, you guessed it – poor Mr. Yang, dutifully signing books on the discovery. As our guide explained, he was one of China’s greatest heroes, and had never profited from the discovery (China being socialist and all that). The abject misery on his face as he signed the thousands of books thrust at him (come see mine!) made me wonder if he didn’t wish the well was just four feet further to the left. You see, he would have missed the first warrior in front by that much – and we would not have the 8th wonder of world to ogle. Mr. Yang would be comfortably retired from farming, playing cards with his friends in a sleepy village near a notably smaller Xi’an.

Traveling to Xi’an

In keeping with our epicurean’s jaunt through Zagat, two of the last three meals have been special or distinct in some way. Eating is something that is big in China and with the bulk of my traveling companions it approaches art. After my last post, we closed the evening with a Beijing requirement – the Peking duck dinner. I am not sure why the shift to Pinyin (“Beijing”) from Wade-Giles (“Peking”) in Western script has bypassed the restaurant world, but perhaps there is something tasty about the hard “k”?

The duck was fabulous, of course, and we had chanced upon a restaurant in which fabulous food was only fabulous in the presence of exquisite presentation. Tropical islands made of olives and sprigs of green, swelling mountains of crushed ice, and checkerboard slices of duck reduced us to photographing each item as they began to stream out. Our reactive fear that all we would get in this meal would be the initial two items led to a rapid devouring of what we started with. As the evening wore on and it became apparent that the chef’s goal was to try to fill the lazy Susan (“lazy Suzhou?”) before we could finish any one plate, we feared for our stomachs. Even worse, our guilt that a plate of delicacies would go untouched and possibly insult the chef, resulted in someone volunteering to try at least everything once. The table was almost as full when we pushed away as when we were at the heart of the dinner. We felt shamed.

This morning we prepped for the flight to Xi’an by visiting the spanking-new Capital Museum. Of concern was its lack of presence in all of our guidebooks but one – what museum doesn’t show up on a tourist map? We were assured by our guides that it did exist – and there it was! For the first time on this trip, we split up to see its offerings. I managed to miss the celebration via temporary exhibit of some important Communist Party event, but did enjoy the history of the city and the traditional displays of Beijinger life.

From there, we raced to a surprise lunch – a surprise in content, rather than a surprise that we were eating lunch. The unique element of this place was its emphasis on Beijing cuisine (of the non-duck variety) done entirely in a vegetarian oeuvre. Dishes looked just like fish, flank steak, chicken wings, even meatloaf – but all were assuredly not as they appeared. On a special note, in seeking a utensil for one of the party I made the symbol for a fork. It is not, apparently, as universal as one might believe – we were provided with a nice cup of hot water in response.

And then, to the Beijing airport for a domestic flight. Our Beijing guide, Victor, serenaded us on the last little bit – which was followed by Erin’s brother, Doug, assuring him in a speech that we know we were a bit more demanding than the average tour group and we appreciated his good humor. I wonder what he thought of on his three-hour commute to his home in the Beijing exurbs.

Day One through Three

With the able assistance of my new assistant, the Assistant to Mr. Albright, I have been able to restart my blog. Naturally, the First Amendment doesn't exactly apply in China, so I will need to be more cryptic than usual to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Of this, I am serious. But with that particular hurdle hurdled, let's move forward.

We have been in Beijing for three days now. It looks, for the most part, as though it were unwrapped about 25 years ago and allowed to slowly succumb to the humidity. There are a few exceptions - world-class architecture that looks shiny but a bit forced - but what is most notable is the multiplicity of it all. In the heart of the city is the largest collection of wooden buildings in the world - beautiful, vast, crowded and virtually indistinguishable. On the day we chose to walk the two miles from the south end of the world-famous square, across the bridges and moats, and through palace after palace, we brushed shoulders with most of the city's population, busily doing what we were doing - walking from one end to the other. At the far, we were disgorged into another street as if we had to get out of the way of the 2 million other people right behind us.

Amidst the buildings, the construction, the little parks, and the highways are a mass of people, going about their lives with purpose. Up early to exercise, they fill every nook stretching; no alley is left lonely of their presence; and shops whose items don't attract much attention always have a shopper browsing. Everyone is going someplace purposefully, or else strolling with their hands behind their backs seemingly content in their retirement.

We have seen so much in so little time, but nothing out of the ordinary on the usual itinerary of the city's many tourists. A redeeming feature of Beijing was the lively and packed lakeshores to the west of the city's heart - the Lotus Market, a boat dock, trees laced overhead, strip clubs, churro stands, and so many residents all taking a stroll in the brief breeze. We managed, all 17 of us, to clamber aboard pedicabs and tour through the city's alleys. It felt to some of us to be a brazenly obscene display of power, but then I noticed that almost all of the other pedicabs were filled by locals. The amazing little home we visited (whose owner, 97, and a colleague of He Whose Name will get this site shutdown the Fastest) will have to wait for a more enlightened Internet to tell about.

Finally, today we managed to visit an amazing collection of masonry, laid out in a linear fashion for over 3,000 miles, to which many have affixed the name as "Great." And, truly, this was a worthwhile and great place to visit. Since we took a cable car to the top it seemed a little disingenuous to say that I "climbed it," but we did walk across the top. My small group rode in the selfsame cable car that John ajor rode in on his way in 199something (missing letter being true to the name of this former British prime minister). I have some great shots of this place, and was please to feel that my skill at evading hawkers, vendors, salespeople, grifters and drifter remains intact so many years after leaving Mexico and Indonesia. The key is, of course, to NEVER look at the product, not even a glance. Trust me, they know.

Last night' s meal, done at a restaurant that specializes in matching a particular dynasty clothing item for clothing item, plate for plate, will join tonight's special duck restaurant in my next telling. Let me just say that having overly dressed people bow and scrape EVERY time they pass you makes one wish that one was emperor or empress. More on this as the story develops! I have hardly touched on the Tea Room, and the Silk Factory - so much to tell about what has transpired. But I look forward to tomorrow!

Keep to the simple

"Twas the night before China, when all through the house, not a family member was yet sleeping, especially my spouse.
The luggage was all stacked by the door with care,

in hopes that our ride would remember to be there.
Eddy was nestled all snug in his bed, while visions of Call of Duty danced in his head."Well you get the idea.

This afternoon my Google Calendar popped up with the following: "Reminder: China @ Thu Jul 14 - Sun Jul 31, 2011 (J Albright Doings)." It was hard enough to concentrate without this little note - I dared not delete it in case I forgot that I had the trip. I have been trying diligently to not act like I have never been out of little Sugarwater, Oklahoma and am looking forward to my big trip to Wichita Falls (I mean I did grow up overseas, so should be normal, right?). Each moment at work was like working on a bomb that must be defused today but I won't know if it blows up until three weeks from now. Is it the red wire or the blue? Hope I find out some day!

I had the last-minute China packing to do. Against all common sense, I am packing an immense amount of clothes - perhaps twice the amount of my last trip. Why only 6 t-shirts when 8 will make sure that I am not caught looking un-casual at wrong moment. A quick jaunt to the library made sure I was testing the weight limits. Of course, the only attractive books were hardcover ones that had "14-days ONLY" on them - meaning I would not only be overburdened, I would be late with the book and thus owe more fines, and I probably won't read it anyway. I am not sure how much time I have on buses and planes, but I brought 15 books so I may just have to forsake the Great Wall for a great read.

Finally, my medicines. Being wiser (and older) I have accumulated both many medical needs as well as the sense to do most of them. With Eddy, we double up on most medicines, so we have to take a lot of stuff with us. Figuring out the meal count, we are taking over 900 enzyme pills - seriously, 900 - in their new, unbreakable glass bottles. Along with packages of refrigerated medicines (TOBI, pulmozyme) and a host of others, both inhaled and ingested, I am perhaps more traveling medical supplies salesman than tourist. I have three bags for the medicines. All that is left is getting the Chinese translation for "Cystic Fibrosis," as I am pretty sure the odds of an understanding customs agent are relatively dim. Maybe I will be thrown in jail like some unrepentant rock star - making headlines back home while making friends in the Chinese gulag. The key to all this is to be really sick at the airport, so they can't dispute the prescriptions. 

Tomorrow my littlest grandkids will join us on the trek to Dulles to bid us farewell and to endure two hours of Beltway traffic for kicks. I will miss everyone here at home and work, but boy, those two will be hard to slip away from. From here on out, I will keep to the simple and not try and control - just enjoy.

The supreme good is like water, which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain. Thus it is like the Tao.
In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present.
When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you.

For brevity and clarity's sake

When traveling, it is important to have excellent advice regarding the use of money. Today's world is so much simpler than the confusion of yesteryear (How much is a doubloon? Are two bits equal to two reales? and so forth). Here is a collection of recent advice on money.

1) Convert all your money at home before you go - the conversion rates are insane in China.

2) Convert some money at home and some at the airport.

3) Convert it all in China - horrible rates in the US

4) Use travelers checks - they have always worked for me

5) No one accepts travelers checks

6) Use your debit card when you travel - every place has ATMs

7) You can't use your debit card, the country you are going to requires 6 number pins, or magnetic implants, or doesn't accept your 1992 card

8) Put two zeroes before your usual PIN on the debit card

9) Put two zeroes after your usual PIN on the debit card

10) Lick your debit card, break it in two, fit the two halves together in the ATM, press any combination of numbers and letters, and then kiss the camera.

Maybe I could just barter my way through the trip?

Experience is a riverbed

It is clear that Eric McVadon, paterfamilias to many in the McVadon clan, is crafting an experience out of love for our trip to China. His speciality is in the details - the thoughtful planning of who sits next to whom; how can 17 different air travelers arrive at one spot from different origins; and what might make each moment of the trip memorable to the group. It is as though a lifetime of arranging, caring, designing, and communicating come together in one swoop. 


For some of us we are just challenged to hold on. If travel is meaningful, it changes the participant by placing him or her in situations which extend extend experience. For many of us, China will extend us. Eddy is going to Asia for the first time as a graduation present - and because he deserves to be exposed to the many contradictions there. Alberto is going because he needs a vacation far away from the pressures of home, where he can be swept along. Erin and I are going because we want to share this time with our family. 


And yet, this trip is only partially about China. My own experiences as a traveler have always had a lot to do with planning my own and family trips. Erin rightly notes that I am less open to the idea of others making my plans. But what we are about to embark on is more than just plans - it is almost a moveable feast. I am more curious about what Eddy and Alberto will think when they see cities with millions in them, when they look at history that predates all of our various national backgrounds, and when they meet a people who are quite proud of their role at the center of the world then what the Three Gorges look like. So this trip includes both the opportunity to travel where I haven't been and to push me to travel in a way I don't typically travel. For that I have only to thank Eric. While I am sure we will thank him all the way across the country, I hope he sees it as at a deeper level as well.


On a lighter note, many of us (me) are scurrying around getting ready as though China were not merely 14 hours a way but some light-years away. I went shopping with Alberto today and bought three pairs of shorts to go along with my other three. Since I wear one pair of shorts for, ahem, a long time, this seems like a bit of overkill. But moving through JC Penney's I was overtaken with a sense that each item snatched up somehow was a critical factor in the trip. In my arms at the checkout counter was actually more than could fit in my suitcase (without compression factors, of course).


The final item to note here today is that for all that this trip bears elements of a whirlwind dash across China, the three-day cruise down the Yangtse becomes more appealing by the hour. The ship (or boat, or whatever - I am sure the Admiral will straighten me out about that one) is not just luxurious, but it has a pool! We like swimming! We can, therefore, sit poolside and watch the ancestral land of the Ba (look it up, I can't do all the work) slide by - and can play a bit of Marco Polo when the scenery is less enchanting. 


Did I mention the boat has a pool? I mean, seriously, that is just too fun.


Experience is a riverbed, Its source hidden, forever flowing:
Its entrance, the root of the world, The Way moves within it:
Draw upon it; it will not run dry.