Back from the X-Men Planet

Returned this morning from Xi'an, which was lovely - ever so much nicer than I had expected it to be. "Going to Xi'an?" Yi Weida asked before we left. "Zao gao." Which means, roughly "what a disaster" - it's one of those expressions ACC students in general and Yi Weida in particular use all the time.
"I know, zao gao," I agreed. But it wasn't zao gao at all. We left on Tuesday evening - we had hard sleepers, which I love: they are actually very comfortable. I was on the top bunk, where I read Anna Karenina and chatted with the Chinese businessman in the adjacent bunk until it was time for bed. When I woke up we were almost there - night trains are like magic that way, although I for one wouldn't have minded a bit more looking-out-the-window time. I really do love trains - I'm thinking of spending my six week vacation between semesters just riding the train all the way south and then riding back north again.

At the train station a very eager-to-help man showed us to the ticket booth to buy our return tickets (you can't buy round-trip train tickets in China, nor can you purchase tickets more than a couple of days in advance) and then to the taxi area to get a taxi. He made me nervous - I expected him to charge us hundreds of yuan in fees or something, but he didn't. The five of us and our luggage in the cab was a pretty tight fit but we managed. Our driver was extremely garrolous and told us all about Xi'an - how our hotel was no good, how Xi'an people love Clinton but hate Bush - much to the chagrin of the two Republicans present. He told us that the terra-cotta warriors were half price that day, so after a quick stop at the hotel to drop off our things and shower, he came back to the hotel to take us there.

The terra cotta soldiers, which you've no doubt seen pictures of, are very old, and very broken, and very terra cotta. And that was that. (This is my new methodology for describing my visits to wonders of the world, and I'm not apologizing for it.) Then, on the suggestion of the man who sold us some ice cream bars (chocolate coating, a layer of vanilla ice cream, and a chocolate center containing crispy bits, and I've just spent as much effort describing an ice cream bar as the aforementioned eighth wonder of the world - what is wrong with me? And why so meta today?) we went to an ancient bathhouse. It was very pretty and parklike, but for some reason that now seems stupid, I chose not to bathe with my friends. It wasn't even a naked thing - I have no huge naked issues - it was a money thing. I'm having this problem lately: I see, for instance, a shirt for 40 kuai, and I don't think "$5! That is not expensive at all!"; I think "Y40? That's a week of food! A sad week with a lot of baozi in it, but you know, it could be done!" So I never buy anything. I'm really going to regret not loading up on the 40 kuai shirts when I had the chance.

So I waited outside and enjoyed the lovely weather and the smell of flowers while my traveling companions did the bathhouse thing, and it was actually very pleasant although I should have had a bath.

Then we returned to the hotel, which was situated near the famous Muslim area of town. Did you know China has Muslims? It does. According to our cab driver ("our Xi'an daddy" as my companions called him) the Chinese government frequently executes them, which is why they have no terrorism here. The two Republicans said, "That makes a lot of sense. You can't do that in America unfortunately. Americans are too polite - too many human rights." I was disturbed by this. Politeness and human rights seem rather tenuously related, if that, and "too many human rights" is not something I generally hear complaints about. But anyway. Xi'an's Muslim quarter was a bit touristy (as in, we weren't the only Westerners visible), but fun. We had dinner in a very noisy chuanr restaurant (chuanr = stuff on sticks). Lili and I, the vegetarians, had a soup with rice noodles, vegetables, and tofu, and the meat-eaters had chuanr. We also had a warmish local beer. Afterwards we strolled the busy streets, looking at the vendors' wares and eating corn ice cream bars and hot spinach pancakes.

The next day, Lili, Miaolan and I had lunch on a little street with no other Westerners to be seen - generally a sign of authenticity. After lunch we met up with the Young Republicans and all went to a big park which featured a tall pagoda, which we climbed. The park had a huge number of vendors selling trinkets and snacks. We had crab chuanr, fruit, scorpions, and hard pretzel-like things. I say "scorpions," but actually I only had half of a scorpion, not wanting to buy my own. It was crisp and salty, not much different from the crab. I am going to say that when it comes to scorpions, the fact that I have eaten one at all trumps the fact that I didn't have very much. The Y.R.s spotted some portrait-painters, and after some coaxing we all had our portraits done - a very narcissistic exercise, I know, but I've kind of wanted to ever since I was a kid. No one but me was very satisfied with their portrait, but I was pleased. I'm pretty easy to draw though.