The contrast of Dunhuang and Xian is stunning.  The caves at Dunhuang were beyond what I had imagined.  The paintings and sculpture, some about 1700 years old, were preserved in marvelous brightness and detail.  Walking through the caves was sublime, a living testament to the devotion of thousands upon thousands of Buddhist monks and believers who painstakingly created works of transcendent beauty.

    And then there is Xian, with it main attraction of Emperor Qin’s terra-cotta soldiers.  They are certainly remarkable in their own way, and the scale of the project is mind-boggling.  But it is, ultimately, deeply unsatisfying.  It is, after all, an expression of megalomania, one man’s belief in his own power and prestige.  Qin paid a price, of sorts: his dynasty hardly outlived him because of his extraordinary brutality.  Yes, he left an impressive archaeological legacy, but it is a constant reminder of his self-centeredness.  By comparison, Dunhuang is clearly the more beautiful and valuable relic.  If you have ever to make the choice between the two, go to Dunhuang.

     We are now in Guilin, having just finished the ride down the Li River.  The marvelous karst mountains are astonishing at points.  It was a relaxing trip, with many pictures taken.

    What I noticed on the ride home, however, was how many of the poorer farmer houses have not been renovated.  When I lived in Nanjing, seventeen years ago, farmers in the Yangzi river delta seemed to build new houses as soon as they had the means to do so.  I took the shabbiness of the Guilin houses as a sign that incomes have not kept pace in the countryside here.  It was the first noticeable sign of the greater inequality that plagues this country, but which has been shielded from the itinerary of the foreign guests.

    We’re off to Shanghai tomorrow.  Let’s see if I can post from there…