The Dunes, Donkeys, and Drizzle in Dunhuang

Without much fanfare, we boarded our overnight train to Dunhuang. Dunhuang is in Gansu Province, next to Xinjiang, so this also marked our official departure from China's version of the Wild West. Since Dunhuang is known for its dunes, we were surprised at the steady drizzle that fell upon us all day long; fortunately, though the famous caves there are officially closed when it rains (to protect the area from too much erosion), our guide kindly informed us that there weren't enough tourists there on that particular day to threaten the landscape, and we were able to make a good day of things.

Having addressed both the dunes and drizzle of Dunhuang, we now feel obligated to tell you about the donkeys. Specifically, about the donkey meat. Considered a significant part of the local cuisine (but not in the way that lamb is out in Xinjiang), donkey meat was more or less indistinguishable from Chinese beef (draw your own conclusions from that observation), though the gravy that accompanied the meat made it highly palatable.

Back to our story: our primary objective in Dunhuang was to check out the "Ten Thousand Buddhas" caves. Dunhuang is famous for this collection of nearly 500 caves (some of which are too small to even stick your head into, so take that number with a grain or two of salt). The caves are chock full o' buddhas, including a few of epic sculptural proportions. Sadly, photos were forbidden. Just in case you never get a chance to check out these caves yourselves, try this: imagine a fat man. A very fat man. Give him earlobes that stretch down to his shoulders and a scary-size lump on top of his skull (to reflect his enlightenment, of course, as this is from the expansion of his brain; to quote Arnold Schwartzenegger, "it is not a tumor!"). Have this fat man looking out through half-closed eyes - you know, that look con-artists get when they know they have you on the dangle. Finally (and this is the key part), make him tall. Yeah, we know; we already told you he's fat. Well, he also happens to tower over mere mortals. So imagine this positively enormous dude. No, bigger than you're thinking. Really. A tad larger....close.....yep. That big. Pretty amazing, huh? Here's the tricky part: stick this preposterous fat man (who is the size of a ten-story building) in a bathrobe and then squeeze him into a cave that is barely larger than he is. Use that shoehorn you stole from the hotel this morning if you have to, but make sure the entire statue gets into the cave. Got that image in your mind? Outstanding. Paint ten thousand buddhas on the walls and slap on a few magnificent murals that tell the incredible story of buddhism such that the inside of the cave looks a little something like the Sistene Chapel's interior would if Ghandi had decorated it instead of Michaelangelo.

You can now save yourself the trouble and expense of making a journey to Dunhuang. Please deposit a quarter on your way out the door. Given that it took roughly a thousand years to create all those caves and the shockingly vast fresco works in each of them, we just saved you a whopper of a lot of time visiting each one.

It turns out that this site also had a "secret library." Yeah, we know what you're thinking: how can our blog possibly report on a "secret" library? The point is that it was secret until the early part of the twentieth century. Then some art collectors/historians from Europe and the United States came and carted most of it off. You know, another case of the West rescuing archaeological treasures and then forgetting to repatriate it later. Not that the Chinese have a decent record for preserving their history (Cultural Revolution, anyone?), but it is a wee bit demoralizing for Chinese people researching Chinese ancient history to have to book a flight to London to see the key bits sitting in the British Museum.

Having successfully navigated the caves, we returned to Dunhuang proper and did a bit of walking through town. As sometimes happens, this walk presented us with yet another priceless photo op. We walked by a restaurant whose name alone guaranteed it a place on our blog: Fatso Hemp Hot Burn. Not quite sure how people manage to get fat on burning hemp, but the remarkable part about this restaurant is that - at least according to the sign over the door - it is part of a chain of restaurants. Scary. Sadly, we did not take the time to check the menu or to verify that there are really other locations. To be honest, we were more than a little intimidated.

At the end of our day in Dunhuang, we deposited Waifang in her hotel and the four of us who remained began the long train-ride back to Beijing. Whew! How is it that these blog entries keep getting so long?