In Zhongwei

n Zhongwei now after 3 nights in Xi’an. I was expecting Zhongwei to be smaller, more village/rural like, but what I’ve seen is more similar to a moderate city.I didn’t write much in Xi’an because I was busy enjoying it. By this time next week I will have returned home. Xi’an grew on me after an ugly first impression, the hectic train ride and mob scene at the station, and hazardous walk through a construction site to reach the hotel. But I spent some time alone, walking the streets of the Muslim quarter and the shopping streets, and then rode around the city wall on a bike and saw the new city existing beyond and in harmony with the old, and it struck me as a giant place, built on purpose, carefully, over thousands of years.In Xi’an I tried to think of Americans from the perspective of the Chinese, to them we inhabit “the new world,” maybe like frontiersmen, perhaps like astronauts. It is nice to think they regard us well, but I’m not sure of the general opinion. I met some Americans at the Hostel bar one night, who had been in Korea for the Jehovahs witnesses conference and traveled to China for a few days. Not five minutes into the conversation they launched into the “truth” and Jesus and life’s purpose, meanwhile gulping Guiness and nibbling bar snacks. While it was nice to hear an American accent, and they were fairly polite, not overly intoxicated, sloppy, or debauched, the religion talk felt intrusive. One nice thing about them was two were a married couple, and despite their unfortunate peachiness, they seemed happy and were planning on moving to Ecuador together for six months, the kind of thing I have considered doing.I decided to opt-out of the sheepskin rafting this afternoon because it’s a grey-rainy day, it requires 3 hours of transit (after the overnight train last night) costs 200 yuan, and I have my own quiet peaceful room to relax in, something I’ve been missing for weeks.Instead of the rafting, I walked around Zhongwei, passing by some very poor homes. Next to them were newly constructed apartment blocks, so its nice to think they may have a chance to move out. Children in blue and white jumpsuits are all out walking the streets and they stop and giggle at seeing a Westerner (very few around here), and a few siad “Hullo!” with a big smile. I stopped by the Buddhist temple which was like a painted wooden jungle gym, chips of the artwork flaking away and giant golden Buddha statues seated before burning logs of incense. Underneath the complex was the Buddhist “hell,” a series of stone tunnels with speakers playing sounds of maniacal laughter, and enclaves filled with icons of torture, painted day-glo statues of Buddha overseeing executions.I walked only with my point & shoot camera today, maybe to see if I would have a different experience, or as an exercise in memory for written work. Perhaps walking with a camera gives you expectations of what should be seen, and what you want to see, and degrades your vision from seeing the unexpected.Just realized the first entry in this notebook is now over one year old. Unbelievable, I remember it clearly, which direction I was facing when I wrote it, what time of day it was, etc. Years are screaming by, much faster than they used to. But the further I get from them, the longer they seem to have lasted. From last September to this one, what a time. My imagination couldn’t have conceived the things I would do, a year earlier.