On Liability

Giant, easy-to-fall-into pits along the sidewalk; single lane roads through the mountains; low, knee-high walls several stories up. A far cry from the plexiglas and beware signs, indicative of a market economy that permits-money making by litigious means.

From the AP (Updated 2007-02-12): 80 vehicles collide in south China; 10 people die.

From our trip to Xi'an: Rick la-la-la-ing tunelessly but loudly, to keep our hotel driver awake on the nearly empty afternoon Airport Expressway.

A Whole Lotta Terra Cotta

We spent the weekend in Xi’an, a 90 minute flight southwest from Beijing.

A (very) brief history, courtesy of our tour guide Michael and Discovery Channel: 2200 years ago, Emperor Qin was the first to unite the eight provinces of China. Unlike his father and grandfather, he also realized that if he wanted his dynasty to continue, it wouldn’t help to bury his closest lieutentants and advisors with him when he died, as was the tradition. But, like the Egyptians, he still believed he would need all the same support in the afterlife, so he built an entire army – 8100 soldiers and horses – to protect him when he got there.

The terra cotta soldiers were discovered in 1974 by some farmers digging a well. The original well site is marked in the excavation pit – at the very edge. Had they been just a few feet off they would have missed the site entirely. Including the Army pits, which are located some distance from Emperor’s necropolis, the entire tomb covers about 22 square miles. It took 38 years and, if ancient historians are to be believed, 700,000 workers and artists to construct. (More at Wikipedia.)

There are a few artifacts from the tomb that are housed in traditional museum-style glass cases. But because the dig sites are so huge, and archaeological work is still incomplete, the Chinese government has built the exhibits on top of the pits. From the outside, they look like regular museum buildings – high-walled and high-windowed with fancy facades. On the inside, they look like warehouses built on top of exposed earth.

Five years after the Emperor died, there was a rebellion. The rebel leader found out about the army and unearthed it in order to steal the (battle-ready) weapons the terra cotta soldiers held. Then he set fire to the wooden beams that served as the “roof” for the underground army. Later, the pits were re-buried, but the weakened roof collapsed, crushing the soldiers. Every one of the soldiers you see in these pictures have been pieced together from fragments in what our tour guided called the “terra cotta hospital” here at one end of Pit #1.

Sometimes a cigar is just . . . really terrible.

7:30 this morning found us down at the end of Guanghua Lu for the Super Bowl party at Tim’s Texas Barbecue. The place has an interesting history: it only recently changed its name and its concept from John Bull’s pub, Beijing’s first non-hotel bar, which opened 16 years ago (if my sources are reliable). The rough framed walls are covered in Texas tokens: license plates, beer bottles, long horns, and sports gear from A&M, U. Texas, and the Dallas Cowboys. (Verdict on the bbq: not bad. The baked beans need some work.)

A free breakfast buffet was laid out upstairs (scrambled eggs, greasy bacon, potatoes, fruit and sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes); so it should not have been surprising to find that’s where most of the people were too. We headed back downstairs, with a decidedly shabbier crowd, where it turned out our friends J. and C. had saved us a table.

C. and I were surrounded by white men, including of course J. and R. (and the odd Chinese-American, also male.) At the table next to us sat younger man with dark hair and blue eyes and pale skin, wearing a green Rugby t-shirt. Likely no one was surprised when he turned out to have an Irish accent. In the corner opposite of us sat two trendy guys, one with short cropped dark hair and the other with longer blond hair tucked under a baseball cap, drinking margaritas. Later in the game, after half-time, they would both bring out their laptops (a tiny Vaio and giant Mac). I thought at first they were just not all that into the game, but now that I’ve finally been able to identify the logo on blondie's hat (1914 Chicago Cubs – I love Google!), I now understand that actually they may just have been bummed out by the progress of the game.

They might also have been trying to get away from a Nasty Little Man who came and sat down with the Unfortunate Irish Kid, since he was sitting alone with the last two available chairs in the joint. Nasty Little Man was short, wearing a black velour jump suit and a really bad wig. He had a voice that pierced the room like Joe Pesci’s, but without the sense of humor.

During the commercial breaks ESPN International showed Amazing Games, which their website describes as “the world’s most exotic sporting events”. While we watched a clip of two Asian men of unidentified nationality, stripped to the waist, their ribs showing, fighting each other with canes and flimsy looking shields, Nasty Little Man said, without a trace of irony, “Hey, did you know Prince is doing the half-time show?” This was followed by several barks of laughter and an uncomfortable silence. “What?” N.L.M. said. “What did I say?”

A few minutes into the second quarter N.L.M started trying pass around his cigars, which, he said, would be on the shelves in Beijing next month. Several people took them, including the Unfortunate Irish Kid. The Chicago Fan took one too, but refused to light it, giving as an excuse when pressured, over and over, by N.L.M.: "I'm working up to it." And finally: "It's against my religion."

It turned out Nasty Little Man was the factory owner. He described his cigars enthusiastically as “Cuban-seeded Dominican tobacco, wrapped in Sumatra, flavored with vanilla. You’ll never smoke a better tasting cigar!”

Judging by the sickening sweet smell, I tend to doubt it.