The Terracotta Warriors

For our trip to the Terracotta Warriors, I decided to do something different: we would hire a car for the day and see how that worked. The hotel concierge had a couple of different day tours listed on a signboard; however, the tour to the Terracotta Warriors also stopped at some hot springs and a tomb, neither of which interested me. I asked the concierge how much it would cost to hire a car.

“Four hundred and fifty yuan,” he said. It was cheaper than both of us taking the tour, and the Terracotta Warrriors are outside of Xi’an, maybe 45 minutes to an hour. Not wanting to waste the one day we had in Xi’an, I agreed to a driver, hoping we could squeeze in some other sites.

“How long do I get the driver?” I asked.

“Mm, maybe until four? Five?” the concierge replied. We set the time for 9:30 am.

In the morning, after our free buffet breakfast at the hotel coffee shop, we arrived at the concierge’s desk to meet our driver. He spoke no English, but it seemed like he had a pushy brother who had some minimal English communication skills.

“Do you want just the Terracotta Warriors?” he asked.

“No, we want to go some other places.”

The pushy brother translated. “Pay him when he brings you back to the hotel,” he told me.

We got into the car and started off. The drive to the Warriors was long, compounded by heavy traffic. As soon as we arrived, I could tell we were going to be in trouble. The Chinese government had built a huge complex around the Terracotta Warriors site, creating a huge destination for tourists. The main buildings were hidden in the back of a vast, sprawling market area, newly built, so that all of the shops were in layered strip malls that looked architecturally identical. The driver apparently did not know exactly where to drop us off or park (he had to call to ask his pushy brother for help), so he found a spot near some shops and parked. In an instant, I knew that I would have a hard time finding the car again--I wasn’t even sure where to find the entrance to the Terracotta Warriors.

The driver leapt out of the car and looked up and down the street, then flagged over a woman in a uniform, who was carrying an open teddy-bear patterned umbrella to shade her from the sun. He talked to her briefly and then motioned us over. She spoke English, although she spoke very, very quickly, so much so, that it was often hard to catch what she said. She explained that she was a guide and could take us through the site for a fee. This part got garbled and I thought she told me it would be 200 yuan for three hours. The trip to the Warriors was quickly ratcheting up in price, but the fear of not being able to find the car, and the novelty of actually having a guide seemed interesting, so I agreed.

The driver watched on and was similarly satisfied when we went off with the guide, probably figuring that his fare would not be lost in this catastrophe.

The guide, however, speed walked like she was in an Olympic event. Kinsey and I struggled to catch up, not least of all, because there was a huge throng of Chinese tourists here for National Week. A few times I lost sight of her, but we managed to keep in contact largely because of her umbrella. She hustled us through the ticket line, and then stopped us outside of a gift shop.

“Let’s go in,” she said, “and see the farmer.”

“I don’t really care about seeing the farmer,” I said.

She didn’t process that at all. “The farmer is very famous. There were five farmers who found the Terracotta Warriors. This one is the youngest one.” She guided us into the gift shop where we saw a man sitting behind some books.

“You can buy a book and he will sign it,” the guide said.

“Um. I don’t really want to buy a book,” I said.

She seemed puzzled. “All the Chinese people come to meet the farmer and get a book.”

We turned and left. When we came to the courtyard for all the main buildings, the guide pointed out the different buildings. “That one is Pit 1, Pit 2, and Pit 3. Over there is the museum.”

I had read about the different sites, and one of the guidebooks suggested seeing them in backward order: Pit 3, Pit 2, and then Pit 1, because Pit 1 is the largest and most famous--the one with the rows and rows of soldiers, so that you kind of leave the best for last.

“Can we see Pit 3, then Pit 2, then Pit 1?” I asked.

She seemed disappointed. “Yes, we can do that,” she said, “but if we go to one, two, and three in order, it will be in order of their discoveries.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I still want to go three, two, and one.”

She seemed a bit frustrated, mostly, I believe, because I later learned that the sites are set up to flow from one to two to three. She tried to communicate to me how that order would be inconvenient, so I relented a little.

“Okay, we can go to two and three, but I still want to see Pit 1 last.”

She perked up at the compromise, and we headed off to Pit 2. As we headed off to the site, the guide explained to us that the main importance of this area, was that the archaeologists had recovered and assembled four different characters: a general, an officer, a standing archer, and a kneeling archer. Most of the warriors were in pieces--perhaps as many as 70 to 80, so reconstruction was pretty slow, and many of the warriors could not be reconstituted at all.

Standing Archer

Officer

General

Kneeling Archer

Originally, the warriors were all painted in bright colors, and when they were discovered, some still had paint remnants left. Once uncovered, the paint had deteriorated and only one figure still bore some original color--the kneeling archer.

The only remaining color is on this figure.

Each of the figures was in a glass case along one side of the pit. We struggled through the crowds to see each figure. The guide gave me some quick tips on how they identified the rank of each piece. The general had a double knot of hair and shoes that were larger and had a distinctive upturned toe. The officer had clothing with different characteristics and hair with only one knot. The archers were posed as if carrying bows, and although the wooden bows had long disintegrated away, I think they found the arrow tips nearby. The statues were charming and I was struck by their friendly, happy faces. Whatever their purpose, they did not seem aggressive.

The pit itself did not have any activity inside. The guide seemed to explain to me that most of the archaeologists were working at some new sites that had been found near Emperor Qin’s tomb.

The Terracotta Warriors were commissioned by Qin Shi Huang (pronounced Chin), the first great leader of China (221-226 BC)--which now bears his name. Qin was the first to unify power over the warring regions, and institute a common currency and writing system. Although those accomplishments were impressive, he was also a tyrant and was the leader who began building the Great Wall, enslaving and killing many Chinese in the process. Qin also had the Terracotta Warriors built as a monument to him, and they were located geographically near his tomb, which has been located but not opened. The guide explained that the tomb was loaded with poisonous mercury, and scientists have not yet determined how to excavate it. It sounded a little apocryphal, but another guide we had told us the same thing.

The new excavations were much closer to Qin’s tomb and contained figures of acrobats, musicians, and other members of the court. She said the new figures are being reconstructed and will be unveiled in a few years.

After Pit 2, our guide took us into a gift shop filled with miniature terracotta warriors.

“These are special,” she said. “You see the clay that is excavated at this site. This is used to make these terracotta warriors. The government controls this. No other terracotta warriors are made from these materials.”

She gave us 15 minutes to look around. I had heard that terracotta warriors could be cheaply made, and some are made of such poor materials that you can make impressions on them with your hand, so I allowed that we might look here even though we’d be paying through the nose. Kinsey was interested in buying a terracotta warrior. I thought it would be fun to buy a large one and carry it around like a Travelocity gnome, taking pictures of it in various scenic spots around southeast Asia; however, in my heart, I knew there was absolutely no way we could pack or carry it. Kinsey had far less grandiose notions and chose an officer, about six inches tall. After we bought drinks, the guide rounded us up again.

“See! Over there!” she enthused. “There’s the farmer. The most famous one. He is the oldest, and the one who discovered the warriors first!” She pointed over to a table mobbed by Chinese. I was not inclined to view the farmer, but Kinsey wanted a quick peek, so she angled herself until she got a glimpse of a balding, elderly, Chinese man.

“In China, the government owns the land,” our guide continued. “So when the farmers found the warriors, they gave them lifetime jobs to come here and sign books.”

“Are they very rich?” I asked.


“Yes,” she said, quite matter-of-factly. Then she added, “This farmer is 78. He does not come here much anymore, but he is here for National Week only. The Chinese people know that he will be here, that is why it is so crowded this week…the people come to see him.”

Later, when I was looking at some other Chinese tourist websites, I came across a blog that said this farmer only knows how to write three Chinese characters--the three for his name.

From the gift shop, we went into Pit 3, an excavation with only two major parts. The first dig had bodies of reconstructed soldiers that were arranged standing and facing each other, as if they were in a room being inspected. Most of the soldiers did not have heads, and the guide explained that these had been so damaged they could not be repaired.

The dig also had four horses that had been reconstructed, along with a jumble of terracotta pieces, so that you could see what the archaeologists had found. There were also some human bones, which the guide told us was from the burial of some local Chinese, who had happened to bury someone at the site, but they had not dug in quite the right place in order to discover the warriors.

She then herded us off at great speed to Pit 1. By this point, I was getting a little upset. Even though, she had imparted a lot of interesting knowledge to us, she was getting us through the site at warp speed. There was little lingering or subtle exploration. I kept telling her to slow down, but to little avail.

Pit 1 is the most famous of all the sites, the one most people think of when they picture the Terracotta Warriors. It was justly impressive, but I was surprised to see that the actual rows of reconstructed warriors did not extend back as far as I’d thought. In my mind, I had pictured long columns of soldiers, completely restored. Perhaps that idea was planted by movies that have used the iconography of the soldiers, coming back to life as a massive army. Instead, I was surprised to see that the actual number of completed soldiers was far fewer. I suppose it makes sense to me now…I probably had the incorrect idea that the warriors were mostly in unbroken form as they were discovered, which would have meant that uncovering them was a fairly simple dig. Reconstructing them from jumbles of pieces was a completely different story.

If you look carefully, you can see that the rows of soldiers only extend so far before they show only the jumbled pottery remains.

Here's a better closeup. You can see how many pieces the archaeologists discovered.

Our guide also pointed out the place where the farmer originally made his discovery…he had been digging a well when he came across a warrrior’s head. The well site is at the very outermost corner of the Terracotta Warrior’s site. If he had moved just a few feet, he would have missed the site entirely.

The sign shows the site of the well.

You can kind of see the size of the National Week crowd in this picture. Apparently, if you go at any normal time, there are very few people visiting.

Once she hustled us out of Pit 1, the guide quickly headed us toward the museum, breathlessly telling us that the museum contained two chariots discovered at Emperor Qin’s tomb. I thought this sounded fabulous, so I was a little disappointed to see that the chariots were only about ½ size--not the full-size of the warriors. The museum contained little else, except quotations from world leaders and pictures of artifacts.

The museum took us only about 10 minutes, and then our guide suddenly seemed to slow down.

“You should do some shopping,” she said, and took us out of the grounds into the marketplace.

Although Kinsey had already bought a terracotta figure, she wanted an even smaller set, figures about two inches tall, a full set of the general, the officer, the standing archer, and the kneeling archer. She commenced to bargaining with one of the merchants, who startled us by striking the figures to show us how strong they were. Eventually they came to an agreed upon price, with the merchant throwing in a two-inch emperor figure…sort of a throwaway, as there was no emperor figure discovered.

Back outside, the guide tried to lure us into buying jade, but I refused, thinking this was surely going to cost me a fortune. Eventually, we got back to the restaurant by the car, and I asked our guide again how much I should pay her.

“Umm. 100 yuan,” she said.

Our entire tour had taken only about 2 ½ hours. My head was spinning, and in some ways I felt like I’d hardly gotten a chance to see the Terracotta Army at all. Nevertheless, 100 yuan was better than I’d hoped. I paid her--even tipped her--and she hurried off in search of another tourist group.