Chinalbeit

Ah Xi’an – the cradle of Chinese civilization, home of the first emperor, site of the historic Terracotta Warriors, seated at the base of majestic Hua Mountain.  Yeah…I can’t stand it.

For the most part I’ve been pretty lucky in China…well, except for getting deported, requiring 25 stitches in my face thanks to Chinese hospitality, nearly getting my juggular cut by a crazed Chinese female.  OK, actually, I haven’t really been that lucky at all.  I’d still take it over my life back in the States, which though it was quite a bit safer and saner bored me into addictions with online video games and all-night raiding parties.  Never again, I say.  My wonderful trip to the center of Chinese civilization in September of 2008 certainly takes the cake for run bad, however, which is saying something considering its competition.

I wasn’t even supposed to go to Xi’an in the first place.  I had my trip already booked and planned for Guilin / Yangshuo.  I got a dirt cheap flight from Beijing into Guilin: the only problem was that the departure time was 7AM.  No problem, I thought, I can get up early.  I had just bought a brand new phone with alarm function (yeah I’m a little behind the technical curve here, I realize this), so the night before the flight I set it to wake me up at a very early 4:30AM and off I drifted into slumberland.

I woke up to a strange sight.  There was light outside the window.  There shouldn’t be light outside at 4:30 in the morning, I thought.  I looked at my phone.  The time was 5:30.  What the fuck?  Why didn’t the alarm go off?  Then I realized that I had forgotten to set the “Day” setting – thanks a lot Windows Mobile.  Why couldn’t you just default to “everyday” rather than “only go off on Mondays.”  Luckily, I had my bags packed already, so I rushed outside and hailed the first cab I could.  I told him there was an extra 50 RMB in it if he got me to the airport in 30 minutes, so off we set down the Airport Expressway at a (more) blistering pace than usual.

I arrived there at exactly 6:07.  Right at the 30 minute mark.  I gladly tipped the cabby the extra 50 kuai.  I was going to make it.  The door was only a few steps away.  I ran inside but…what was going on?  There was a big line to get into the terminal.  “Random security check” said the sign.  I wished Jacques Rogge was standing in line in front of me so I could barrel down on his achilles heel at full might.  But it still might be ok, I thought.  The line was moving quickly.  Actually, it only took me three minutes to get through.  6:11.  No problem.  Hey look!  The check-in line was right next to the entrance, and there was only one person, but…oh God no.  An old Chinese woman.  At that moment I knew I was fucked.  If you don’t know anything about old Chinese women, all you need to do is they will argue anything.  If you tell her something costs 10RMB, she will argue for 3 hours to get it to 5RMB.  If you give her something for free, she’ll still argue for three hours that it should be 5RMB.  At last, she was done.  I popped my luggage on the belt and gave the lady my passport.  “I’m sorry sir, check-in time has passed.”  I looked at my watch: 6:16.  I was one minute late.  Just one minute?  There is nothing you can do about it?  Nothing.  I was up shit creek without a paddle.  I dejectedly went and boarded the train back to the city and slept until noon.

I had an entire week off of work, but what was I going to do?  I certainly didn’t want to stay around Beijing doing nothing for the entire time.  Then it hit me: Xi’an!  I’ve never been there.  It’s not peak travel season either, so I bet I can get a ticket.  I immediately high-tailed it for the neighborhood ticket booking agency and inquired into tickets to Xi’an.  I was in luck!  There was one overnight sleeper available for the following evening.  It seemed my luck was starting to turn around.  Sure, it wasn’t Guilin or Yangshuo, but Xi’an woud certainly have its charm too.  Besides, it would be a shame to spend so much time in China and never see the Terracotta Warriors, right?  It was decided.  I booked the ticket, and the next night I was on a sleeper train bound for Xi’an.

The trip started off as smoothly as possible.  I found the hostel without a hitch.  It was cheap and had a great location – the entrance was literally right next to the City Wall, with lots of old traditional-style streets and food stalls within a close distance.  The hostel was located in an old courtyard, and all of the rooms opened up directly onto the outside.  This would be alright, I thought.  I went to my room and took a short nap, since it was still only 7AM or so and nothing would be open yet anyway.  I awoke at 10, packed my camera into my bag, and off I went to explore the city.  I started at the drum and bell tower to get a good view of the city.  I took out my camera and started to take some pictures.  First picture facing South, second picture facing East, third picture…wait, what was that sound coming from my camera?  It sounded like a loud whirring mixed with a bit of nougatty crunchiness.  And then it just turned off.  It shouldn’t do that.  I had made sure to fully charge the battery before I left for trip.  I hit the power button again.  Nothing.  Well, no big deal I thought.  I already had a million pictures of China anyway, and to be perfectly honest every Chinese city kind of looks the same anyway.  Who needs a camera?

The rest of the day passed relatively without incident.  I explored the city, the Muslim Quarter, ate some damn good lamb kebabs and went back to the hostel to rest my weary legs and toss the broken camera in my locker.  I wouldn’t be needing it anymore anyway.  I signed up for a trip to the Terracotta Warriors, and someone recommended to me that I must go and see the nighttime fountain show at 大雁塔　(Wild Goose Pavillion) – a very famous water and light show in front of one of Xi’an’s most famous monuments.  Well, that sounded like a good idea, so I hopped on the bus and headed down to the area to watch the show.  While waiting for the show, I decided I had to go the bathroom: if I didn’t go first, the endless streams of water flying everywhere would pretty much make it impossible to hold out.  This is where I made my mistake.  On my way to the bathroom, I whipped out my brand new smart phone and started texting my girlfriend.  I’d grown to feel too safe in China: in the three years I’d lived there, I’d never experienced any kind of mugging or pickpocketing, nor had anyone else I knew experienced it.  But then, I’d spend most of my time in the capital.  Western China was a different story, and I hadn’t realized it.  Suddenly, a figure stepped in front of me.  Was it some kind of chef or something?  Why was he holding a knife?  “Phone” he said, and pointed to it.  Well, I experienced at the moment what evolutionists call a “fight or flight” reaction.  I think you can guess which one I chose.  I tossed the phone on the ground behind him and ran off in the opposite direction.

Shit, was I just mugged?  I’d never been mugged before.  I lived on the South Side of Chicago for four years and was never mugged.  Why didn’t I wait until after my vacation to buy a brand new 3,000RMB phone?  Could anything possible go right on this trip?  I didn’t stick around to see the actual show.  I found the nearest cab and gave him the address to my hostel.  I just wanted to go back and get drunk over my rapid loss of technology.  The cab driver started talking to me.  He asked if I spoke Chinese.  I did, I said.  “How do you like Xi’an?” he asked.  I should have just told him it was fine, but I was in one of those moods, so I started telling him about my trip so far, and how I’d just been mugged.  Never share too much information with a Chinese stranger.  I knew this, but again I’d forgotten it and let my guard down.  After telling him my story, he didn’t say much else, so I relaxed back into the seat.  About 10 or 15 minutes into th ride, it seemed to be taking longer than it should, since the pavillion was not that far from the hostel.  Also, I realized that we were driving on the highway, but I certainly don’t remember any highways on the way over to the pavillion.  “Where are we going?” I asked him.  He didn’t give any response.  “I think you are going the wrong way,” I told him.  He didn’t say anything at first, then he said to me “Give me 200 RMB and I will take you to the hostel.”  What the hell did he just say?  Then it hit me: I had just told him my phone was stolen.  He knew I had no way to call for help.  My boat in shit creek had just toppled over and I was up to my neck.

I didn’t have a choice.  I gave him the money and just told him to pull over, I would get out here.  At this point I was seething with rage.  I wanted to hit him as hard as I could, be he had one of those taxi cabin glass window protectors.  So I did the next best thing.  I got out of the car, took out my key, and rammed the key as hard as I could along the side of the car, then booked it in the opposite direction as quickly as I could and turned down a side street.  I found another cab a minute later, got in, and I kept my stupid mouth shut the whole ride back to the hostel.

At this point, I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Xi’an as I possibly could.  I’d only been there one day and already my camera was broken, my brand new phone was stolen, and I was robbed for 200RMB by a taxi driver.  I didn’t even want to know what would happen on day 2.  I nearly bought an airplane ticket back to Beijing that very night, but at the last minute I decided not to.  The trip couldn’t possibly get any worse right?  Anyway, I was already there and I’d already paid for the hotel and the trip to the Terracotta Warriors the next.  I should at least go seem them first.  That was the right thing to do.  Unfortunately, life had other plans in store for me.

I awoke early the next morning and got on the mini-bus to go to the Terracotta Warriors.  The bus was filled with other tourists such as myself, and though I wasn’t in much of a mood to talk, it did help to lighten the mood a bit to converse with other people for a while.  We stopped first at the “Terracotta Warriors Factory”, which is basically just a giant ploy to get you to buy a bunch of overpriced Terracotta Warrior garbage at ridiculously inflated prices.  I don’t think anyone on the trip bought a single thing, except maybe for a girl who bought a bottle of Coke.  I’d recommend to any of you that if you go on a tour of the Terracotta Warriors, you should arrange it yourself.  If you go through your hotel or an agency, they will probably bring you to this dumpy place first.  The factory was only about 20 minutes from the actual site of the warriors, so we would be there in no time at all, my tour guide informed me.  Oh, how I wish it was true.  Only a couple minutes after getting into the bus, I felt a shock and heart a loud crunching sound.  Some idiot had just smacked his car into the back of the bus at a red light.  We all looked around, but nobody was hurt.  It was a pretty small car that hit us, and we were in a large van.

If youv’e never been in a traffic accident in China, it’s nothing like anywhere else in the world.  Anywhere else, you would both pull off to the side of the road, exchange insurance information, perhaps get the police involved if someone is injured, and then you’ll each be on your way.  Not in China.  Here, wherever the accident happens, that’s where everyone stays until the issue is worked out.  Crowds, one might even say hordes, of passers by will come crowd around to see what happened as well, usually resulting in the complete blockage of traffic on the road.  Despite the fact that it was clearly the fault of the car that hit us from behind, arguing and bargaining will take place at extremely high volumes, sometimes for hours on end.  Eventually, someone called the police, but the police don’t really do anything except to become a 3rd party to the arguing and bargaining process.  We must have sat there for at least 3 hours (I don’t know exactly how long, because I didn’t have my phone, so I had no idea what time it was).  Finally, the issue was resolved.  We all got back into the car.  We’re finally going to make it I thought.  I didn’t care if I only had 10 minutes to look at it, at least I would make it there.  “The car must get back to the hostel to take another tour group on the evening trip, so we won’t be able to make it.”  Well, that was that.  At least they refunded our money.

I didn’t end up booking the flight back.  At that point, I was so determined to actually do something fun that I would have sawed my own leg off before giving up.  I had two more days in Xi’an, and something was going to go right damnit.  Amazingly enough, the rest of the trip went off relatively well.  The third day I went Hua Mountain, and though it rained the entire time, I amazingly had the foresight to bring my raincoat with me.  I encourage you all to take the long way up: don’t take the cable car.  It’s a good 3 or 4 hour climb, but it is worth it.  I did end up catching a cold when I got back, undoubtedly from being out in the rain all day, but considering the potential alternatives (crushed in a rockslide, eaten by vultures, sucked into another dimension, etc.) it wasn’t so bad.  On the way back from the mountain, I witnessed an atrocious accident outside my window.  Two cars had literally been flattened: the dead bodies laid on the side of the road without being covered.  Things could always be worse I thought.

To conclude this post: I bought some miniature Terracotta Warriors at the train station before leaving the city.  That way maybe I could trick my memory into thinking I’d actually accomplished all I wanted in this trip, and I’d never have to go back to fucking Xi’an ever again.