We arrived at the hostel around 11am, and were very pleased with what we found. Located directly outside the Nan Dajie (South Gate) of the ancient wall that encases the city, it was a short walking distance from the famous Bell and Drum Towers, Muslim Quarter, and, more importantly, three different Starbucks. We immediately booked a tour to see the Terracotta Warriors, and then headed out with a new friend, Jia Jia, a kind and absolutely adorable woman (age 22) who worked at the hostel. She took us to a shopping area south of the gate, where foreigners where seldom seen but the locals flocked, ergo cheaper prices and more genuine atmosphere. Steph and I got manicures of the most outlandish sort for only 15 Yuan.
Everyone at the market was [almost too] friendly and extremely curious about us, which made for some great opportunities to practice our Chinese and learn a few new phrases. Our bargaining skills, which would reach an expert level by the end of the week, began to evolve here.
The touristy Muslim Quarter was next on our list. We stood on the street, unsuccessfully attempting to hail a taxi there, when a friendly man on a scooter shouted in our direction, asking if we needed a lift. We told him our destination, and, holding up four fingers, he named his price. ‘Why not?’ we thought, the strangeness of the thing appeasing our inherent sense of adventure. Hopping on the back of his small motorized bike, we zipped and dodged quickly through traffic, the way that always makes me angry... but was actually quite revitalizing from the other point of view.
The Muslim Quarter, even after such an exciting journey, was unbelievable in comparison. Vendors of all varieties lined the street, selling a smorgasbord of souvenirs, eats, and other items. The street was busting with locals and tourists, lights arching over the walk, and an overhang of Islamic culture in the air. The food of this providence is different from that of Jinan and Beijing: a bit spicier, and the traditional moon cakes and rice pudding are readily pushed upon the passing tourist.
There is a ton of shopping, especially in a small road curving laterally around the Main Street, advertising knock-off designer goods, silks, scarves, and loads of, ungracefully put, crap. I can say that Stephanie and I did some major damage here, quickly becoming true experts in the Art of Chinese Haggling . We walked away with some real steals. But we didn't really steal.
Tuesday, we headed to the see the world renowned Terracotta Warriors. The first stop on the tour was a museum where we watched a demonstration on how the warriors, Chinese sculptures, and traditional furniture were made. Then, at the actual site, we watched a short film, describing the history of the site, while standing in the middle of a huge room with a 360-degree television screen (only slightly confusing). The man who discovered the Warriors, named Mr. Yang, was actually at the sight that day. He was a very cranky 80-year-old man with huge round glasses, who refused take any photos or shake anyone’s hand with out the purchase of his ridiculously overpriced book.
The Terracotta Warriors themselves were surreal. The size of the army alone very impressive, but, coupled with the underlying story of Emperor Qin, astounding. Of the 3 pits, two of which contained little to fawn over, save the size of the excavation, Pit One was the most impressive. The throng of tour groups crowded the walkways, and we were asked several times for photos. I thusly checked another sight off my long list of things must-sees in China.
That night, we joined a mass of tourists and locals alike at the foot of the Big Goose Pagoda to watch a beautiful fountain show. I absolutely love fountain shows. One of my favorite memories of Spain was leaning against a carved stone perch in Barcelona, the warm air hanging lazily around the Mediterranean vegetation, watching a fountain show in front of the Royal Palace with a few close friends. There's just something about the arching water, lively instrumentals, cheery crowds, and the city lights twinkling in the background. It's all very romantic.
For dinner, we headed (with a French woman our age, named Natasha) back to the Muslim Quarter: home of cheap, exotic, and superbly delicious food. Natasha and I conversed in French, leaving me pleasantly surprised at how much of the language I have retained since my escape from the chains and shackles of my former stay in east Paris.
We sampled most of the traditional foods of Xi'an, tickling our taste buds with some exciting new tastes. We had cold noodles, covered in a sauce vaguely reminiscent of peanuts, a warm soup laden with noodles, bread bits, and beef medallions, and a fried biscuit stuffed with steamed lamb meat. It was all very delicious. The cooks on the street are very friendly and extremely helpful; we showed them phrases from our guidebooks and they pointed our palettes in the correct culinary direction.
Wednesday was a major sight seeing day around the city. Waking up early, we mapped out an efficient plan to hit a majority of the main tourist attractions. While waiting in the lounge for the day to kick off, I met two gentlemen from South America. In Spanish, we exchanged tips on touring the city, as well as places in South America that I was strictly obligated to visit. When we parted, I realized, with a proud feeling swelling in my chest, that I had spoken French, Spanish, English, and Chinese in the past two days, connecting with people from all over the world in their own language. It was truly an uplifting moment in my life, making me appreciate this gift that I have been given.
Getting to work on our ambitious daily agenda, we saw the famous Bell Tower, located in the center of the main square of Xi’an. Feeling adventurous on our sightseeing mission, we hopped in a passing rickshaw and bumped along the street through the nearby Muslim Quarter to the Great Mosque. As he dropped us off, the driver tried to charge us more than what he had previously stated, thinking us the typical pushover tourists. We berated him in Chinese for this, enlisting the aid of nearby Chinese men who also gave him an earful. He left with the hanging head of a child caught in the act of doing something naughty.
The Great Mosque might have been my favorite sight in Xi'an. The mosque is hushed and serene, a timeless bubble in this bustling city: a true oasis amid the endless bright flashing signs and thumping music of the downtown area. As we walked through the arched, traditional buildings, the leaves fell silently from the trees, and the chanting of an ongoing worship echoed around the courtyard.
Thrust inevitably back into the energetic and exotic aura of the Muslim Quarter, we strolled through the shopping street towards our next destination: the Drum Tower. We passed many of the vendors we had haggled and joked with the day before, and were most definitely remembered. Fun follow-up conversations ensued, all in Chinese, might I add. We barely made it to the Drum Tower (sister to the Bell tower, located at the entrance of the Muslim Quarter) for the daily drum show. Though the duration was short, about 15 minutes, it was still a fantastic cultural and musical performance. It was amusing seeing all of these old asian structures, complete with traditional performances, with modern American fast food chains located just outside.
Wednesday afternoon brought us to the Big Goose Pagoda. It's very pretty during the daytime, and the short climb up its 7 stories was relatively effortless after my ascent to Tai Shan the week before. We watched the sun set from the top floor through a small hole in the glass, celebrating the end of a great day by taking numerous random and completely pointless pictures, and were eventually harried out at closing time.
Thursday marked a slightly dreaded occasion on my part: Thanksgiving. To quell the empty feeling residing in the left side of my chest cavity (the area that my family’s presence should have filled with warmth and love), I took it upon myself to put my nostalgia to good use by spreading bonafide American love and good cheer. The first order of business was accomplished with the aid of the every helpful reception staff; I mastered the phrase “Ga En Jie Kuai Le!”, meaning "Happy Thanksgiving". Wishing a happy holiday to most passersby, I received many thanks, big smiles, and even return well wishes as Stephanie and I climbed up the South Gate of the city wall.
At the top of the ancient City Wall, we rented bicycles and biked along the entire length of the wall. It took just over an hour, and was a wonderful experience. The air was crisp and chilly, the wall covered in smog and nearly deserted. We did run into a tourist trio we had met earlier at the Mosque; it’s a small world, after all!
The afternoon was devoted to cramming every last thing we wanted to see into the remaining daylight hours. The Small Goose Pagoda, located in a beautiful park dedicated to the empress of the Tang Dynasty, was a pleasant sight, but nothing compared to the Big Goose Pagoda. The Provincial Museum housed many interesting exhibits, including bits on the ancient human skulls found in the area. Last, but not least, we did something I had been really looking forward to; we dressed up in traditional Chinese costumes and posed in the park of the Big Goose Pagoda. For 15 Yuan, the photographer snapped photo after photo of Stephanie and I, both of whom hammed it up exceedingly for the camera. Our modeling expertise did not go unnoticed; by the time Stephanie had finished our short photo shoot, a small crowd of around 30 Chinese people had gathered around us, taking pictures of us at a rather alarming rate. The photos turned out great, and the experience was unforgettable!
To celebrate Thanksgiving night, our hostel offered a themed meal for us Americans, an any others who might have felt inclined to celebrate as well. Stephanie and I tucked into a small pizza topped with miniscule amounts of turkey and yam, a tiny complimentary plate of dry turkey, yam, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, and a refreshingly cold beer. Though nothing compared to the American feast I was sure to be missing, there was comfort in sharing somewhat in the tradition that I have celebrated all my life.
To top it off a great day, we attended a traditional Chinese musical performance. It was beautiful, and I felt deeply thankful for being able to have this awesome experience.
Friday morning was a sad one. We said goodbye to the reception staff, who had been so helpful and so friendly to us this week. We were hard pressed getting to work on time, as our flight was delayed. However, it worked out all right in the end. This was definitely a vacation to remember, and I hope to go back to Xi’an again someday!
1 comment:
What an adventure! And I do believe your are smiling head on in each of your gorgeous photo shots! YOur smile radiates your love for this trip - so glad to hear of this outstanding journey!
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