Shanghai China is a good business. This is my fifth trip in three years. I have five companies to meet within four days. Familiarity with this region of the world will never come. Despite my grin where Outer Ring Road meets Long Dong Avenue, recognizing my Eastpo Trade Showgrounds, or staying at the Riverview Hotel 
near the Pearl Tower, I am a total stranger. My use of chopsticks receives compliments, but their language remains insurmountable. I have heard that during Mao’s reign, teaching their language to foreigners was punishable by imprisonment – “rots o’ ruck”… So what if we can’t learn it?
I needed to leave the business behind me and renew my longstanding effort to find my way to Xi’an. Terra Cotta Warriors were waiting for me. What seemed to be a simple three-hour flight; turned out to be twelve hours in transit. The details are better left behind. One saving grace was a book to get me through, River Town, Two Years on the Yangtze. This story of two Peace Corps workers in the nineties made my plight very trivial.
A sound sleep, a new place, by now, life is good. There were better hotels in town, and the Xi’an Hotel had seen grander days. A four-star hotel rating today in China puts it far below the new modern international five stars that I left behind. My expenses could use a little cooling off. They list 538 guest rooms, but I understand there were but three for breakfast. English was not understood too much, but the three waitresses and I opted for the American breakfast and coffee. Their classic Nescafe took me back a decade or two. This instant coffee blend has survived in many remote regions of the earth where tea is the typical drink. The taste and consistency are as distinctive as the next beverage she brought. The orange juice was Tang. I thought our astronauts left that on the moon, but some must feel it is part of an American breakfast. The fried eggs, ham (bologna), sausage (tiny wieners), bacon, and toast (British style white square loaf slices) were pretty good when you accept their effort. The Dynasties of China were mostly rooted in Xi’an.
near the Pearl Tower, I am a total stranger. My use of chopsticks receives compliments, but their language remains insurmountable. I have heard that during Mao’s reign, teaching their language to foreigners was punishable by imprisonment – “rots o’ ruck”… So what if we can’t learn it?I needed to leave the business behind me and renew my longstanding effort to find my way to Xi’an. Terra Cotta Warriors were waiting for me. What seemed to be a simple three-hour flight; turned out to be twelve hours in transit. The details are better left behind. One saving grace was a book to get me through, River Town, Two Years on the Yangtze. This story of two Peace Corps workers in the nineties made my plight very trivial.
A sound sleep, a new place, by now, life is good. There were better hotels in town, and the Xi’an Hotel had seen grander days. A four-star hotel rating today in China puts it far below the new modern international five stars that I left behind. My expenses could use a little cooling off. They list 538 guest rooms, but I understand there were but three for breakfast. English was not understood too much, but the three waitresses and I opted for the American breakfast and coffee. Their classic Nescafe took me back a decade or two. This instant coffee blend has survived in many remote regions of the earth where tea is the typical drink. The taste and consistency are as distinctive as the next beverage she brought. The orange juice was Tang. I thought our astronauts left that on the moon, but some must feel it is part of an American breakfast. The fried eggs, ham (bologna), sausage (tiny wieners), bacon, and toast (British style white square loaf slices) were pretty good when you accept their effort. The Dynasties of China were mostly rooted in Xi’an.
The Terra Cotta Warriors are a significant relic of one. Major i
ndeed. A picture cannot express the impressive spectacle of which I had to be a witness. The reality was to credit the ego of some despotic emperor. As with most ancient splendors, the price was paid by slaves and subjugation. The later perpetuate modern Red China today. To cast a blind eye would justify their wealth as worthy. As the 2008 Beijing Olympic prominence plays in every background television, a struggling individual is looking beyond their place. Without the freedom we Americans know, all of what they are giving is for the State, after all, is done.
ndeed. A picture cannot express the impressive spectacle of which I had to be a witness. The reality was to credit the ego of some despotic emperor. As with most ancient splendors, the price was paid by slaves and subjugation. The later perpetuate modern Red China today. To cast a blind eye would justify their wealth as worthy. As the 2008 Beijing Olympic prominence plays in every background television, a struggling individual is looking beyond their place. Without the freedom we Americans know, all of what they are giving is for the State, after all, is done.
1 comment:
The number and expanse of the warriors are truly beyond what I have imagined. I also must admit, that with the opening ceremony of the Olympics, my heart softened for the Chinese. However, with watching the games, all that has been erased, and then some.
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