Day 8 - Xi'an - The City Redeemed, and the Terracotta Army

First thing's first: change hotels. I don't guess I really spent much time around my hotel today, but moving gave me a good peace of mind. I checked into the Bell Tower Youth Hostel, right in the center of town and away from the seediness of the North Gate. After checking in I found some more meats on sticks and pancake things and started walking back towards the bus station. Finding the right bus was another exercise in patience, but eventually I found myself in the right place and on my way to see the Terracotta Army.

Note: This site is an active archeological site, with excavations currently underway, but to keep the site safe and to be able to acomodate the swarm of tourists, modern museum-like buildings have been built around all of the excavation sites. One guy I met said he was really let down by this because it all seemed too much like a hospital and detracted from the power of the natural surroundings. I don't necessarily agree with him, but I see his point.

Arriving at the museum was a lot like arriving at an amusement park. We were greeted by a sea of asphalt and cars, followed by vendors and souvenier stands, followed by more walking, and punctuated by a hefty entrance fee ($10 is much more than I'm accustomed to paying these days). On the walk to the gate I met James and Nikki, with whom I would spend the next few hours looking at mud. I had been told the best course of action for viewing the site was to start at the end and work your way back to the first pit excavated. This was the best advice I'd been given all trip and ensured that this experience wouldn't be a letdown. Pits 2 and 3 were found later and have only been very partially excavated, with very few pieces intact or reconstructed. It's good to see those first becuase you can get a better idea of the process of excavating and reconstructing the army. Pit 1, by comparison, is amazing. It's much larger than the other two, and there are hundreds of soldiers rebulit and aligned as they would have originally been. It was quite an impressive site to behold. Somewhat regretfully we declined a private tour guide. I'm sure that would have filled in a lot of gaps, but left to speculate on our own and to eaves drop on other tour groups, we had a lot of fun.

Back in Xi'an James, Nikki, and I went down to the Muslim Quarter to take in the sights and get some dinner. We ordered way too much food (delicious food), finished about half of it, and then parted ways. They were off to catch a night train, and I was off to catch a massage.

After getting a recommendation for a masseuse from the hostel, being sure to specify that I wanted a REAL massage and not the pink neon and miniskirt kind, I found myself in the capable hands of Hans. I had heard about the traditional Chinese Guasha cupping massage and wanted to experience it while in China. When in Rome.... After beating me senseless for close to an hour, repeatedly telling me, "Oh no. Your back is very bad!", and TRYING to get all the knots out of my back (he only had an hour, after all), Hans started with the Guasha massage.

This technique involves using a flame to heat the air inside a glass jar and then putting the jar on the patient's back. As the air inside cools it creates a suction that's supposed to pull all the bad stuff out of your skin. The jars are left on for about 15 minutes and the skin in the bell bulges out because of the suction. The result was 15 minutes of feeling like my insides wanted to be outside, followed by 2 minutes of stinging and buring as the jars were removed, followed by 25 big purple circles on my back and shoulders that are going to stick around for a while. My back looks disgusting now, like I was trying to run away from someone pelting me with baseballs. It'll probably be like this for a while. Gross, but I feel better!

Hans was quite an interesting character and I'm so glad for the chance to talk with him and to get a brief glimpse into life here. He never went to college but taught himself several massage techniques. As his English is the best at the parlor, he gets all the western clients and has an impressive collection of photographs and warm wishes from his customers. He recently married (all of this was told to me, by the way, while he first tried to break my back and then suck the spine out of my skin) and his wife works at the parlor, too. They live at the parlor and room and board are provided by their boss, but they're not really paid. His monthly salary is about $100-$120. He said he was looking for opportunities to meet more clients and to maybe move into one of the hostels and work strictly on backpackers. He asked if I would help him write an introduction or sales pitch, and I happily obliged. We exchanged emails and well wishes, and I went back to my hostel a little more sore, but much less stiff.

Oh, and for one hour of pounding and the Guasha cupping massage, I paid $4.