Xian city wall

I am sitting atop the 700 year old wall built to protect the city of Xi'an, which, at the time, was called Chang An and was the capitol of China during the T'ang dynasty, which, our Xi'an guide assures us, was the golden age of China, during which the country was at the height of its cultural richness and creativity.

Well, who am I to contradict the woman who translated for Bill Clinton when he visited Xi'an in the 1990s?

Today Xi'an, several hundred miles west of Beijing, is a gritty industrial city with air laden by effluent from coal-burning factories and dust brought in by prevailing westerlies from the Gobi Desert. Our good weather karma has come through again somewhat, and I'm sitting in T-shirt and jeans enjoying the sun on my back and able to believe that the sky above me could in some sense be described as blue.

We came here mostly because the terra cotta warriors were found a few miles outside town. We went to see them yesterday. It really seems like I should have more to say than that, but, at the moment, at least, I don't.

Walking along the city wall is apparently considered a pleasant thing to do on a Saturday afternoon -- lots of citizens up here enjoying the sunshine. Restful music is being broadcast over the PA. It was very Chinese sounding when I started writing this, but now it's more like Kenny G. I guess it really is a global culture. God help us.

You can rent bicycles or golf carts up here if you want to travel the whole 13.5 kilometers of wall. The top of the wall is about as wide as a two-lane highway, has yard-high walls along both sides, and is fairly smoothly "paved" with big bricks. A teenaged boy and his girlfriend just rode by on a bicycle built for two. And the music has gone to a twangy Chinese stringed instrument backed by easy-listening violins.

In a courtyard below where I'm sitting is the bronze sculpture of an oversized group of five musicians in court robes playing instruments from a long time ago. I would guess T'ang dynasty, but that's just because folks around here seem really into T'ang dynasty. Occasionally passersby on the street stop to look at the statues, and then move on. For civic statuary in a gritty inland municipality, I think that's doing pretty good.