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Monday 2004-07-05 - Dunhuang, China
World Heritage site
Today we have just time for a visit to the Mogao Caves, an enormous complex of 735 Buddhist caves, 492 of them with sculptures and murals (the remainder were bare, on purpose, and were intended for prayer and meditation), located in the Sanwei mountain. It’s only half an hour’s ride from Dunhuang. Entrance is (at the moment) 100¥ (Yuan), plus another 20¥ per person for an English-speaking guide; the site is well worth it.
Our guide, a nice young lady with a cheerful straw hat against the sun and armed with a parasol, speaks English quite well, but with a very heavy accent that takes some getting used to. The whole complex, comprising one face of the mountain, she tells us, originally had murals all along the outside but only a few fragments of this remain: the rest is weathered away. Also many of the (man-made) caves originally consisted of an entrance portal, with a short corridor leading into the inner chamber housing an altar with sculptures of Buddha, disciples and other attendants. Most of these entrance portals, guarded by huge sculptures of armed figures, have disappeared through natural causes as well — the stone of this mountain is quite soft. But otherwise the caves — protected from the elements unlike the murals outside — are in remarkably pristine condition, probably the finest example of such caves in China, and named a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987.
Construction of the caves began in 366 AD during the Qin dynasty and lasted some 100 years. One reason for their excellent preservation is that the region was taken by the Tibetans in 781 AD so it escaped the persecution of Buddhists in China in the 9th century; another reason is probably that the complex was never completely deserted so later archaeologist treasure hunters could not so easily ‘save’ what they found here.
The style of the sculptures and paintings, even the oldest ones, is remarkably refined. Clearly the best artists that could be found were working here. It’s also interesting to see how many paintings have Persian or Indian stylistic elements: with Dunhuang an important location on the Silk Road, artists must have exchanged their skills along the road or even traveled along with caravans to see art work elsewhere.
There are a few quite strikingly large Buddha sculptures. The largest one, at more than 30 m high is not in the original condition: the original clothing was later adapted into a intricately decorated “emperor’s mantle”. Another one is 26 m high and yet completely contained inside a cave; as with the other large figures, the body was first hewn out of the rock, then covered with clothes made from straw-reinforced clay and painted. This one is in original condition. Most remarkable is that the head, itself 9 m high, is very large in proportion to the body: it’s actually designed so that when the sculpture is seen from below the head actually appears to be in the right proportion - a very early example of perspective correction!
Tuesday 2005-09-20 - Beijing, China
Morning Activities
Many Chinese get up early in the morning and go outside for some gentle exercise. One favorite place in Beijing is the Tiantan Park with the Temple of Heaven, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1998. Although the main temple is closed at the moment and in scaffolding for restoration, we get up early to go to the park for some people-watching. It proves to be quite an experience, well worth getting up early for.
The huge park itself is an oasis in the big city, with many trees and a chorus of chirping cicadas almost masking the music of the singing birds. Although the park itself, laid out in a formal geometrical style, and the buildings within it are quite interesting, it’s the people that really take our interest. People do all kinds of exercises such as Tai Chi (often with a teacher) but also other types of exercise, all gentle, such as a kind of dance with fans, or marching in figures with pompoms and fans as if it’ a band of cheerleaders — except most in the group are actually middle aged… We also see a group being taught western style dancing. Most of these activities are accompanied by music coming from loudspeakers placed at regular intervals but some (such as the cheerleader group) have live music.
Then there are all kinds of ball games, like badminton, or kicking around a kind of feather ball (people kick it at each other and it should stay in the air as long as possible, apparently). There’s also a ball game with a soft ball ans a round racket with which the ball is caught and thrown back (not hit) all in one fluid movement. Other people do stretching exercises, or walk backwards a long way, using a marble strip in the pavement as a guide.
Harmony is important for the Chinese, and one way or another all this is about harmony; exercise can become a kind of meditation, but we see other forms as well: some people are practicing calligraphy writing with big brushes and water on the pavement; I also note a man flying a kite, accompanied by soft music. His mind is clearly far away, too, and he doesn’t notice us watching. Even a choir is using the park for their practice sessions, accompanied by an accordionist.
Pleasure boat
Our bus picks us up at the North entrance of the park to take us to the Imperial Summer Palace on the outskirts of Beijing. After lunch in one of the restaurants near the entrance we go in (30Ұ). We (that’s Carla, Gwendoline and I) walk in the direction of the huge man-made lake that takes up some there-quarters of the the huge grounds where the emperors and their families came to escape the summer heat of Beijing. Although the weather is still gray and hazy today the air certainly is fresher here than in the city: it must have been pleasant here for the Imperial family as well, although the water in the lake is a murky green.
The huge complex is a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1998, especially because it is a unique and intact example of the Chinese art of gardening and landscaping, so different from European or Japanese gardens. Walking along the lake front, we notice along, elegant bridge leading to an island and decide to go there. The bridge, with seventeen arches, is quite beautiful, and we walk across it to the island. On the island is the Temple of the Dragon King, where the imperial family used to pray for rain. Across the lake I see other interesting bridges (I’m a bridge nut!), but they’re too far away for now, certainly too far to walk. Instead, we catch a “Pleasure Boat” (6Ұ), nicely decorated and with a pagoda-like roof, which takes us slowly across the lake to a landing near the palace, where another interesting sight awaits us: a beautifully carved marble boat lies at the landing, as if ready to cast off.
There’s no time to view buildings today, and we’re happy to walk outside in the fresh air anyway. After a drink at a small cafe near the landing, we walk along the waterfront back to the entrance. We’ve only scratched the surface here: we agree we’d need to come back for a whole day to really experience it, rent a boat to row or paddle around the lake, and visit the buildings; in spite of that we’ve had an interesting and pleasant afternoon.
Wednesday 2005-09-21 - Beijing, China
Great effort on the Great Wall
Today is the big day. Last year when I was in Beijing I wasn’t able to do the hike along the Great Wall because my foot hurt too much (I only later found out it was broken). Now, with an ankle sprained not a week before we left and a heavy cold still bothering me, I’m not exactly in optimal condition for this undertaking, but I’m not to be deterred: I promise myself to do this and I’m going to: you really haven’t been to China unless you’ve visited the Great Wall, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987.
The alarm goes off at 5:15 in the morning: we have to leave at six! The stretch of the Wall we’re going to walk, from Simatai to Jinshanling is about a three-hour ride from the city, and we’re soon in the middle of the rush hour. It’s amazing just how big this city is: it takes very long before we leave it behind us and see fields from the bus windows. Not so much afterwards, though, a little after eight, the engine suddenly starts to make a funny noise and the driver stops the bus along the road near what amounts to a truckers cafe: some plastic tables and stools outside where simple meals are served. The driver starts checking the engine, borrows a bucket of water at the cafe, brings it back, and declares it’s good to go, so we all get in again. He turns the key and … nothing. All out again. It seems the starter engine is broken. Are we really going to walk on the Great Wall today?
The driver arranges alternative transportation for us (mobile phones are ubiquitous now in China) and not too long afterwards a car and three micro buses arrive, and on we go — with just over an hour’s delay. After we turn off the main road, at 10 km from Simatai, the landscape gets more beautiful; we’re riding through a river valley now. At the entrance we buy our first ticket (30Ұ; every stretch that’s accessible requires a separate ticket, we’ll have to buy a few more). Our hike starts at 10:30.
I’m actually rather worried, my cold makes me feel rather weak, and my sprained ankle is still painful and I worry about making it worse. But Marie Josee promises she’ll stay at the back of the group, and that’s reassuring. Across a little bridge over the river and then up we go along a bit of “fake wall” to one of the towers. I take out my GPS to record where we start: N 40.66188, E 117.27609; elevation 306m.
The first stretch of the wall here is fully restored but it’s quite steep down to a (metal) bridge across the river where we have to buy our next ticket to be able to cross (5Ұ), and from there up a steep incline again. This is especially hard because there are very high steps on the steepest stretches, almost too high for my short legs: I have to literally push myself up and tire quickly. I’m soon the last of the group. But after the restored stretch ends it gets even harder: it’s still just as steep here but now on the broken stones and rubble it gets hard to keep my left foot horizontal to spare my sprained ankle. A good thing I took my monopod which doubles as a walking stick: I really need it here.
All around me is my reward: a landscape of endless rolling steep hills and low mountains, mostly untouched, over which the Great Wall snakes from hilltop to mountaintop with a tower on top of each. And all that in glorious sunshine with a blue sky. With still a long way to go, I can’t stop every moment to take pictures but I still take quite a few. Still, the enormous scale of this defense wall in the landscape is hard to capture in pictures. Tourists are coming by the bus full to look at the wall, and a few of them even walk to a tower and back, but it only really sinks in when you actually feel it with your feet, going from hilltop to hilltop, up and down and up and down. Hikers on the wall are from all over the world, but the only Chinese are their guides. At what I think is the highest point I take another measurement with my GPS: we’re now at N 40.67046, E 117.26532; and 502 m high (later I see the next tower is just a little higher still, but not by much).
Marie Josee worries about my slow pace and asks if I want to go back — but we just left the hardest part behind us: no way am I going back to walk those steep stretches again. So on we go and luckily we hear of an easy shortcut below the wall that will save us a several towers. We decide to take it. All over the wall are Mongolians selling books, postcards, T-shirts and other souvenirs: the Mongolian border is nearby. They can be quite bothersome though: if you don’t say “no” firmly enough they’ll come after you and keep following. When we want to take the shortcut, a Mongolian woman comes with us, and shows the way (obviously hoping to sell us something) — a good thing though since it’s only a narrow trail, at places hard to see, and not at all as “easy” as the people telling us about it suggested. Just when I think we’ve had the hardest part, already close to where the path joins the wall again, I suddenly find myself stretched out along the path flat on my belly! There was a tree root in the shadow that I missed completely… Marie Josee comes running back, and the Mongolian woman wants to pull me up and starts dusting me off. “No, wait,” I gesture, and just sit up first, putting out feelers in my body to see how it feels: no alarm signals come back. Then I allow the two women to pull me up and slowly I stand: I can still walk, but my legs are quite shaky.
The woman offers to take my backpack and camera bag, and Marie Josee starts bargaining with her — she asks 50Ұ: far too much, 15 would be OK. At first she refuses, so Marie Josee takes my bags but later she agrees after all. She helps me over all the difficult spots, too, giving me a hand for support or to pull me up: of course she’s earning some money but she is genuinely caring. After the shortcut, the wall seems easier; I stop every now and then to take pictures again. The Wall and the landscape are still breathtakingly beautiful and impressive.
We have to buy another ticket for the last stretch of the wall and Marie Josee nearly starts a fight with the woman selling the tickets: last year she was in the same spot selling fake tickets but after some to and fro it turns out this time the tickets are for real — and needed.
A little before the point where we have to leave the wall the woman says she has to go back now: the border closes at a certain time and it’s a long walk back. But the last stretch is restored wall again and easier to walk on although I find the inclines harder to walk down than the steps. But Marie Josee is now carrying my bags and I can manage on my own. We find Henk, Carla and Gwendoline have been waiting for us (the ladies are quite tired as well) and with our little group we walk down to the parking place to meet the rest of the group.
We find our driver with a new bus — and just two of the group: the rest has not appeared yet! First we all sit down to have a drink (Marie Josee treats me to a beer) and wait. But soon we get restless: where can they be? If they walked on, they’ll find they can’t go further at one point but will have to walk a long way back: we may be in for a long wait… When they finally appear we hear their story: they did indeed miss the road down to the parking place and walked on to the next tower, spotting us through their field glasses and deciding to wait for us there; when they could no longer see us and we didn’t appear it dawned on them they were too far and went back. Lucky for them (and us) they didn’t walk any further!
Back in the hotel at 9:30 after a long drive through the falling evening, I go out with Carla and Gwendoline to ‘our’ neighborhood restaurant where for a change I have a good appetite: the chicken with cashew nuts is delicious!
Only then, back in my room, I finally take my shoes off and inspect my toes which started to hurt after my fall and are hurting even worse now. There’s nothing to see though: no swelling, no bruise: it can’t be too bad. Hopefully it will be better before Nepal!
Friday 2006-09-08 - P’yŏngyang, Democratic People’s Republic of Korea
King Tongmyong
Our first stop on the way from P’yŏngyang to Wŏnsan today is the (reconstructed) tomb of King Tongmyong who founded the Koguryo kingdom (lasting from 277 BC to 668 AD) and the Tongmyong dynasty. King Tongmyong was the most powerful and most worshiped king of Korea. In this area, only some 22km south of P’yŏngyang, there are actually 15 tombs in all, made for the burial of kings, members of the royal family and the aristocracy, but this tomb is is the largest, and obviously most important one. The site has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2004; the listing includes more similar tombs near Namp’o.
We visit a small museum on the grounds where a series of beautifully done murals depict the life story of King Tongmyong and Korean life and culture at the time showing games and contests at celebrations but also scenes of village life. Our (inevitable) local guide tells us these paintings are based on murals found in the tombs — that seems a bit of a stretch to us, the style looking too modern, but we reason it is of course possible that the actual themes of the paintings were indeed depicted in the original murals. However, the UNESCO justification for listing the site specifically mentions the “beautiful wall paintings” and the description states:
“These paintings offer a unique testimony to daily life of this period.”
One rather moving story depicted in one of the paintings is that of the reunification of the king with his son: the king had been married, but divorced; many years later, a young man came to visit the king and presented him with the tip of his broken sword, thus proving he was the king’s son. When the king died at the early age of 40, his son, just 19 then, succeeded him.
Sunday 2007-04-08 - Shibam, Yemen
Manhattan of the desert
This afternoon we go with the whole group for a visit to old Shibam, which we passed yesterday on the way to Sey’un — I find it unbelievable that a visit to this city, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1982, was not part of the original planning.
Unlike most cities in Wadi Hadramawt which are built nestling at the foot of a mountain or little way up, the walled city of Shibam is built on a free-standing hill in the valley. Just one square kilometer within the walls, it’s not surprising that the large family houses here are narrow and with even more floors than usual, built closely together. The buildings are even higher than the mosque’s minaret. Indeed, the skyline reminds one somewhat of a city with skyscrapers, earning it its epithet - but there the comparison with Manhattan stops.
Through the single whitewashed city gate one comes onto a square, and from there on it’s a labyrinth of winding narrow streets and alleys and an occasional courtyard, between the high-rising houses. The predominant color is that of the clay tiles the houses are built from and plastered with, but sometimes the upper part of a house is whitewashed, and there are surprising splashes of color: here dark-red window frames, there window niches painted bright blue; bright red or blue curtains (often on the outside of the window frames) flapping in the breeze, the lower part of a wall facing a courtyard painted a very bright green. In between all this troops of goats roam around, women go their own way in there elegant flowing black robes (often covering them completely, including a face veil, and often even black gloves), children are cheerful, and sometimes eager to be photographed (but not all). One can roam around here for hours and never be bored: it’s feast for the eyes.
Suddenly we hear music and follow our ears — we’d spread out as usual, but now we all arrive where the music is. There’s a growing crowd in the street, a little procession with musicians in front walks up and down — what’s happening? After a while it becomes clear: another wedding is taking place, the first day of it here. I don’t manage to catch a glimpse of the groom (or bride) but after walking up and down several times the musicians sit down at the edge of a big carpet spread out for them in the middle of the street. This becomes the dancing floor where the men dance, in small parties, taking turns. Unlike in Sana’a though, we’re not treated as special guests, and have to find our own (polite) ways of catching some glimpses. Still, most of us hang around for quite a while until it’s nearly time to go. The music and dancing made our visit to Shibam extra-memorable.
