scribbler at large

Here we are on the other side of the (U.S.) presidential election, and Beijing looks pretty much the same as it did a week ago. China Daily (our English language Chinese newspaper) has pushed most of the U.S. election news off its front page all week, but our other news sources, as you’re well aware, have been exploding non-stop since last Tuesday. In light of that, the weekend trip we just took to Xi’an was well-timed—not a lot of good wifi came our way, and we focused on cool historic stuff instead of the news.

Xi'an (shee-ahn)

Xi’an is the capital of Shaanxi province and lies about 700 miles southwest of Beijing. It’s one of the oldest major cities in China, and sits at the end of the Silk Road. Its name means “western peace.” Today the city's biggest claim to fame is Emperor Qin’s tomb and the Terra-cotta Army (Bing-ma-yong). If you’re not familiar, here’s a quick overview: In the 200s BC, the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huangdi, employed roughly 700,000 people (about 1/4 of China’s entire population at the time) to build him a tomb—a project that spanned many years. This gigantic piece of history was essentially swallowed by time, until 1974, when Chinese farmers found pieces of terra-cotta figures while trying to dig a well. Since then, archeologists have uncovered an entire terra-cotta army that was buried with Emperor Qin as part of his tomb—intended to protect him in the afterlife.

To give you an idea of size, the whole tomb covers about 35 square miles and there are believed to be about 8,000 terra-cotta figures in total. These soldiers, along with horse drawn chariots, are lined up in fighting formation and were complete with weapons, uniforms, and indicators of rank. On top of the actual terra-cotta fighting force, entertainers, concubines, and administrators were all included in the tomb—essentially everything Emperor Qin could possibly need in the afterlife. After Qin’s death, the tomb was attacked by armies intent on destroying Qin’s “protection.” Many of the terra-cotta figures were smashed in these attacks, and archaeologists are in the process of putting pieces back together.

The actual place where Qin’s body lies has yet to be excavated, in part because it’s believed (and soil tests indicate) that his body is surrounded by a poisonous river of mercury. Technology hasn’t yet been developed that can safely excavate the area. For now, there are three archeological “pits” open to the public.

Our trip

We left Beijing on Thursday night, hopping an overnight train to Xi’an. This was my first trip through Beijing West train station, which is normally a seething mass of humanity. But this Thursday night the crowds were manageable, and we had a good time browsing the train snacks which were all Chinese and available in huge quantities.

Since coffee isn’t the morning drink of choice here, we bought two cans of Chinese-branded Nescafe espresso drinks to avoid caffeine withdrawal in the morning. The people waiting for our train were from all walks of life—peasants who stared at us to well-dressed young people looking like they just came from work. We also saw a few other, non-American foreigners.

The train was all sleeping berths, most intended for 4-6 passengers. Since we’re super classy foreigners obsessed with our own personal space, we sprung for a two person berth.

Inside our berth. Beer: purchased in the United States and brought along for the ride.

These smaller rooms are rare and expensive enough that Chinese folks we talked to didn’t even know they exist. Pinkies: raised. All that said, the berth was pretty cozy and well-used, complete with stained comforters and pillowcases, and a shabby carpet.

We cracked a couple of beers, turned off the lights, and sat by the window to watch the night-scape roll by. Even in the dark we could see the air quality getting worse, which made for hazy, semi-creepy scenery. Eventually we each picked a bunk (equipped with a personal TV screen) and fell asleep to the sounds and motion of the train. Twelve hours later we arrived in Xi'an.

We’d arranged a Chinese guide ahead of time who met us at the train station in the morning. He was eager to discuss the election, and seemed to have a better grasp of U.S. politics than your average American. He was young and well-spoken, having learned most of his English in college (in China), where he got a sociology degree. The terra-cotta army site is about 45 minutes to an hour outside the city and we talked politics and history and Chinese traditions the whole way.

We visited the three archeological pits that are open to the public. The first holds the biggest, most reconstructed display of soldiers, the second holds the higher ranking army officials, and the third holds more soldiers—many of which have yet to be fully excavated while scientists work to find ways to preserve the colors painted on each soldier.

Outside the building sheltering the first pit, there were pictures of dignitaries from all over the world who have visited the terra-cotta warriors—including Bill, Hillary, and Chelsea Clinton. Fun fact: Bill Clinton was the first person not affiliated with the project to be allowed access to the archeological dig. Apparently he asked to meet the farmer who discovered the warriors, and China went to great pains to prepare the farmer for the meeting—hiring a professor to teach the farmer a few key English phrases that he could use to address the President. As the story goes, the farmer was so nervous about the meeting that he accidentally asked Bill Clinton, “Who are you?” instead of “How are you?” Clinton was apparently very good-natured about it, and explained that he was the President of the United States.

Photo of a photo: The Clintons visiting the Terra-cotta Army in 1998.

Without further ado, here are some photos of the warriors, along with some facts we learned. Photo creds mostly go to my husband.

Each warrior is unique, down to their facial hair, uniforms, and hair styles.
The soldiers’ bellies are slightly swollen (by standards of their time, it should be noted—these guys are pretty svelte) because they drank alcohol to give them courage before battle.

High ranking warrior that's been reconstructed.

Every warrior and brick in the entire tomb is inscribed with the craftsman’s name. This was to ensure that any craftsman who screwed up could be identified and “dealt with."
The bricks that the warriors are standing on are original.
Every warrior was painted in detail with color, but exposure to oxygen and sunlight ruined the colors almost immediately. Scientists are currently working on methods to preserve the color on yet-to-be-excavated figures.

Warriors in the process of being reconstructed in pit #1

Closeup on warriors in pit  #1 — Closeup on warriors in pit #1

Originally, every warrior had a weapon, but armies later destroyed many of the warriors and disarmed them so as to remove the Emperor’s protection in the afterlife.
Some of the weapons have been preserved, showing evidence of sophisticated technology like a repeating crossbow and chromium plating. Remember, this is the 200s BC, over two thousand years before these technologies were claimed to be invented.

Pit #3, where the high ranking military officials are represented, some without heads.

Soldiers in the process of reconstruction.

Archeologists have reconstructed most of the existing warriors—some taking six years to complete.
The soldiers at the front of the formation do not have armor—armor was earned through good performance and surviving (of course).
Before Emperor Qin, human sacrifices often accompanied the burial of important figures. The burial of the terra-cotta army marked a shift away from the tradition of human sacrifices.

Replica of one of two bronze chariots found near pit #1

Reconstructed high-ranking official. The curved shoes, the ties on his uniform, and his hairstyle are all indicative of his rank.

Sideview of a reconstructed war horse. The hole in its side is intentional, left there to prevent the horse from exploding in the kiln.

We visited the terra-cotta warriors on a Friday morning in the “off season” and were super lucky to have plenty of space to take pictures and get a closer look. Usually, the site is mobbed with people, which no doubt dulls the awesomeness of it all.

Given the election turmoil at home, spending a couple of hours with these figures that have survived more than two thousand years was, to me, a refreshing dose of perspective.

I have another post coming in which I’ll tell you about Xi’an’s Muslim Quarter, Grand Mosque, and the city’s wall. For now, this: