The travel gods must have been smiling on me; none of the interesting aspects of my journey to China involved glitches in travel. Whether it was catching the 3am RTD bus to the airport, making connections in Beijing or navigating Xi’an on a local bus, I always made my connections and got where I was headed.
I smelled the smog of Beijing before the plane even got to the gate. I looked across the runway to a new terminal, still under construction, that seemed to have at least a hundred gates, presumably to handle the crush of visitors to the Olympics.
Although I had been in the Beijing airport once before, this time I didn't have my Chinese colleague, Tingjun, guiding me around. But I felt more clear-headed than before, having rested well on the plane. I got my bag, exited the arrivals, found the check-in counter for China Eastern Airways, checked my bag and then made my way back out to where the ticket counters were. I wanted to change my departure from the most polluted city on earth (Lanzhou, my first destination) from Saturday to Friday, after learning from the meeting agenda that the last day was devoted to an excursion, which, although probably interesting, did not hold nearly the appeal of getting to Xi'an and seeing the terracotta warriors. I succeeded in this task also. The last thing was to find a cash machine and this wasn't hard either, although it was only after the third try that I found a machine that took my CU ID card, which is coded as debit card.
As far as I could see, I was the only westerner on the flight to Lanzhou. When we landed at the airport, some 100 km from Lanzhou, it was late night. The bus I took into town seemed to struggle in the mountainous terrain and the driver would coast whenever he hit a downhill stretch. Gazing into the darkness I noticed that every slope in the rugged terrain was terraced, like the sides of a strip mine. Returning to the airport a week later I would see that these hillsides were dotted with hundreds of man-made caves, some even having wooden doors.
Given the hour, I worried that there might not be anyone at the desk of the “hotel,” which was in fact in the compound where the Communist Party officials used to meet. I had been given the phone number of a contact in Lanzhou and attempted to call him from the bus. I was unable to communicate with the person who answer the phone, but the woman in the seat in front of me heard me speaking English and promptly engaged me in conversation, a common phenomenon, as it seems most Chinese seek out opportunities to practice the language of the Imperialist Devils.
As it turned out, she was returning from the airport after seeing off her Canadian husband (coincidentally, I would later befriend an Australian in Xi’an, attending the same meeting that I was, who had a Chinese wife). This woman asked where I was trying to get to, and did me a great favor by writing the name of the hotel in Chinese on a piece of paper that I subsequently showed to a taxi driver, who, unlike many Chinese I would encounter, didn’t seem to speak a single word of English.
The bus deposited me somewhere near a large traffic circle. Everyone grabbed their own luggage from underneath the bus. The waypoint for the hotel, which I had pre-loaded into my GPS, guessed from the image in Google Earth, was a mere 1.5 km north, but I decided to take a taxi. The driver was friendly and took me straight there (Beijing taxi drivers are famous for taking very circuitous routes to run up the meter), but once in the “compound” he had no idea where to go. He stopped in front of a very deserted looking building with a large red banner over the doorway bearing Chinese characters, but I indicated he should continue driving. Next stop was the “VIP” building and I guessed this might be the spot. Sure enough, the two other American scientists at the meeting were standing there, having just returned from dinner with their Chinese host. The taxi meter said 7 RMB but other than the 100s dispensed by the ATM in the Beijing airport, I had only 6. The driver happily took 6.
I did a lot of walking in Lanzhou, beginning with the second night I was there when several Chinese scientists from the local World Data Center took the Americans out to dinner. At peak times of the day it is impossible to get a cab, so we walked. And walked. And walked. I hadn’t brought along my GPS that night, but I’m certain that for some reason, like the Beijing taxi drivers, we didn’t take a direct route.
Chinese dinner banquets are unique. I experienced three while I was in Lanzhou. If held at a restaurant they are always in a private room, never in the open. The servers stay by the table the whole time. The stream of food is continuous, and the toasting is endless. If there aren’t at least a dozen toasts, something is seriously wrong. Singing is usually involved and if it’s any sort of special event, there will be hired singers who stand by each guest in turn and perform a song, apparently different each time. Of course, with all the toasting folks get pretty lubricated and things can deteriorate badly as the evening wears on.
What I enjoyed most about my time in Lanzhou was getting to know scientists from all over Asia. With the Europeans and Americans a small minority (something like 6 out of 140), the feeling was very different from most international meetings I have been to, despite English still being the lingua franca. Noted scientists from places like Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Mongolia, and Nepal had a presence that wasn’t overshadowed by the dominant world powers.
I took only a few short outings outside the “compound,” until the last day when I took a cab into the central shopping district and toured a large department store. Western music - James Taylor and Willie Nelson - played, a little too loudly. The array of goods was vast, the prices not that great, and no one smiled. Having a bit of time I walked all the way back to the hotel, retrieved my bags and walked to where I thought the airport bus left from, the place where the bus had dropped me off when I arrived in Lanzhou. But when I got there I didn't see anyone else with suitcases. I walked up and down the block and finally asked a young couple standing at a local bus shelter if they knew where the airport bus left from. The knew only a few words of English but were eager to help. I tried to follow their directions, didn't find the hotel they told me to look for (there were nothing but Chinese signs along the block, except for the bank). I was inside a hotel, drawing a picture of an airplane and a bus when the young couple came in to rescue me. They said they would go with me to the airport. I thought they were headed to the airport also. We started walking. The guy was carrying a full sized desktop computer in his arms. We talked as we walked and I discovered they were both from the nearby university, and the girl (in her 20's) had a PhD in history. They had a very gentle and kind demeanor, so I had no qualms in following them through back streets of the city. We walked for maybe 5 blocks, and found the bus stop, but I had lost a lot of time and the bus had already left (okay, so maybe the travel gods had decided to play a joke on me). Fortunately, I had built in lots of extra time so the next bus an hour later was still fine. I bid goodbye to the couple, who, when they had said they were going home, didn’t mean via airplane, but to their nearby flat.
Sitting in the waiting area at the airport, with my computer plugged into one of the few power outlets I could find, I see a western pale face walk by and am struck by how few of them I had seen since arriving in Lanzhou. Even fewer than, it seems, I had seen in Lhasa 3 years ago. I presume it’s because few westerners come to Lanzhou as tourists.
The Xi’an airport appears much newer and more modern. I found the bus into town just outside the terminal and it left within minutes of my getting on. I could tell this was going to be a different experience from Lanzhou. The bus was clean and there were something like 5 uniformed people taking luggage (and giving claim tags) and selling tickets. Once on board, a woman came down the aisle with a map asking people where they were going and giving advice, in Chinese and English, on where to get off and how to get to their final destination.
The ride to outskirts of town was fast but things soon came to a near standstill - it was rush hour. We finally reached the last stop, where I was to get off. I decided to walk to the hotel, the GPS telling me it was 2 km away. The walk gave me a good feel for the town, but weaving through the crowds in the street was tiring. The waypoint I had coded into the GPS, again from Google Earth, led me right to the front door of the Hyatt Regency. At reception they said "Mr. Khalsa, we have you in the Regency Club, your personal assistant will escort you to the check-in on the 9th floor." I had forgotten! My travel agent had told me it was the best rate she'd seen anywhere for the Regency Club and I had gone for it.
In the afternoon I took a stroll to the nearby city wall, the only intact city wall in China. It is over 13 kilometers in circumference. I ascend at the East Gate and walk all the way to the South Gate. It is foggy, enhancing the feeling of being in an ancient place. (see
photos)
The following day I note the staff is particularly distracted. Turns out Sonia Gandhi, daughter of the former Prime Minister of India and leader of the majority Congress Party, will be staying at the hotel. All sorts of security people are running around. That night, after she and her party settle in for the night, I exit the Regency Club lounge and absentmindedly take the stairs up instead of down. At the top of the stairs a man in a suit, sitting in a chair, looks at me and then points to a pin on his lapel. I shrug and try to walk by. He jumps up and points again at his lapel, apparently the symbol of people in the Indian delegation. I’m tired and a little miffed at the inconveniences caused by Sonia’s visit and say, “just let me go to my room.” I start down the hall and another security guard comes running down the corridor to stop me. Things could have gotten ugly, but one of the Hyatt staff runs up and says “Mr. Khalsa! You are on the wrong floor!”
Walking into the hotel the first night a driver by the gate handed me his card and said “visit terracotta warriors, 7 hours, only 400 Yuan.” I check things out later and find this is the going rate, and much cheaper than what the hotel charges. So I call him and arrange to be picked up at 8am on Sunday. I was told that it would be his “brother” who would come.
The driver was waiting for me when I exited the hotel. He was very pleasant and patient, waiting for me in his car for the hours while I toured the various sites. The day was perfect. The rain of the previous day had passed, and the sky was blue for the first time since I arrived in China.
Driving east on the modern toll roads (the site is about 40 km away) I notice there are policemen at every intersection and bridge. Obviously, Sonia is headed to the same place as I am. Fortunately, they don’t close the site when dignitaries visit, just the buildings the party is in for the time they are there. It was easy working around them.
Experiencing the warriors, even amidst the throngs of people, was more profound that I could have imagined. Seeing pictures of the warriors cannot fully prepare one for being there in person. The presence of these personages from over 2,000 years ago is powerful, to say the least.
When we arrived at the site, there was a guide waiting for us. The driver said his charge was 100 ¥ ($13). I hadn't been told about this and was expecting to do a self-guided tour, but decided the charge was reasonable and would probably enhance the experience. It indeed turned out this way, with the guy showing the best view points, taking pictures of me with my camera, and, best of all, introducing me to the farmer who discovered the warriors while digging a well 30 years ago (he's now 79 and quite famous). After 2.5 hours with the warriors the driver took me to Emperor Qin’s mausoleum (which has yet to be excavated), and his former palace and bathing pools. I circled the burial mound on foot (about 1.5 km) and then climbed to the top, two steps at a time, to get a workout. The hot springs and palace were also filled with interesting sites and much history.
During the week of the meeting I got out twice more, once to walk the city wall, this time from the East Gate to the North Gate, returning through the Muslim quarter and another time to visit a Buddhist temple and the Shaanxi museum. The grounds surrounding the temple were large so I got in a lot of walking. There were lots of tour buses parked outside and westerners inside, but the temple was peaceful, beautiful and inspiring. After leaving I walked through an adjacent public garden. I didn't see a single western face. The tourists seem to stick to the highlights. In the park were many whimsical sculptures and I walked around taking pictures.
The museum was also very worthwhile. It traced the history of the region from neolithic to recent times through the most remarkable collection of artifacts I have ever seen, 5000 years of continuous history. It was amazing.
So now I’m over the Pacific, on the 11.5 hour flight from Beijing to San Francisco, made easier by the fact that the seat next to me is vacant, the only vacant seat I can see in the cabin. I guess the travel gods are still smiling on me after all.
