With villages turning the power out at 9:00pm, these days make for early nights. I usually wake up before 7:00am, and this day was no different. I put on some Moby, did some stretches, and then went down to sort out my day. To get to the Water Curtain
Cave you needed a taxi. The manager of my hotel insisted that walking was unreasonable and renting a bike was out of the question. So I went to the market and spent .50 cents on 3 cucumbers, 2 oranges, and 1 thing I had never seen before. They called it a quackqua.
The driver was waiting for me when I got back.
The drive was beautiful; fresh, crisp morning air mixed with a peach sunrise. When the driver turned off the road and onto a river bed I understood what my hotel manager was talking about. Two years ago they built a road along the river bed.
What were they thinking?
The next year, like every year, the water swelled between the narrow canyon and wiped it out. Now slabs lay all over the river bed. Some of the road had been completely washed away, another part still lay dormant. The further we drove up the river the more the scenery mutilated. The hills once patchy and terraced were now what appeared to be brown, stubby, cactus shaped mountains.
There's a few times in my life where I've arrived at a place and my jaw has dropped. This was one of them
Above me was a 50 meter high mural carved into the rock. The picture was 1400 years old. One huge Buddha man sat solemnly while two women fanned him with flowers. (I swear Buddhas must have been the most attractive guys in their days. I always see pictures of them surrounded by women who look like they are dying to please such big, holy men).
I wanted to get a closer look. Rickety stair cases had been built up along the paintings, but as I approached shouts echoed through the mountains. Before I knew it a magic little man with a beard appeared and told me to get down. He warned that the stair case could break at any moment. I was already 20 meters high, 3 km up a river bed, and who knows how far away from the nearest hygienic hospital.
I got down.
Later the magic man explained it was their job to "protect the Buddha". I guess they still haven't forgotten about the 'evil' European imperialists who came to China in the late 1800s and stole precious artifacts and left thousands of Buddha statues decapitated.
Understandable.
On the mountain I found an amazing little temple that dated back to the same period. The paintings on the walls were so impressive. Who would think they were so artistic in the 600's. The temple air was thick with aromatic white smoke. An old women kowtowed before the temple chanting a very rhythmic song. The birds chirped and the crickets sang, around me their was nothing to prove I was in the 21st century. That was until the music started.
As I was leaving the magic man turned into a dj and started blasting Buddhist tunes out the speakers. The notes bounced off all the mountains and added to the atmosphere of area. While studying the surrounding hills carefully you could see remnants of other paintings and small objects carved into the mountains.
What were they thinking?
What drove these zealous people to express their enthusiasm for Buddhism this way? Actually, the whole province is dotted with holy places like this one. Some paintings are in caves and others are in tombs. The more I explore this ancient province the more I uncover the works of the Silk Road Buddhists.
I left the temple on foot. I decided a walk through the gorge would be peaceful. About halfway through the sun began to beat unbearable heat on my bald head. I searched for my suncream in vain. Then I remembered I left it in the hotel.
Cave you needed a taxi. The manager of my hotel insisted that walking was unreasonable and renting a bike was out of the question. So I went to the market and spent .50 cents on 3 cucumbers, 2 oranges, and 1 thing I had never seen before. They called it a quackqua.The driver was waiting for me when I got back.
The drive was beautiful; fresh, crisp morning air mixed with a peach sunrise. When the driver turned off the road and onto a river bed I understood what my hotel manager was talking about. Two years ago they built a road along the river bed.
What were they thinking?
The next year, like every year, the water swelled between the narrow canyon and wiped it out. Now slabs lay all over the river bed. Some of the road had been completely washed away, another part still lay dormant. The further we drove up the river the more the scenery mutilated. The hills once patchy and terraced were now what appeared to be brown, stubby, cactus shaped mountains.
There's a few times in my life where I've arrived at a place and my jaw has dropped. This was one of them
Above me was a 50 meter high mural carved into the rock. The picture was 1400 years old. One huge Buddha man sat solemnly while two women fanned him with flowers. (I swear Buddhas must have been the most attractive guys in their days. I always see pictures of them surrounded by women who look like they are dying to please such big, holy men).
I wanted to get a closer look. Rickety stair cases had been built up along the paintings, but as I approached shouts echoed through the mountains. Before I knew it a magic little man with a beard appeared and told me to get down. He warned that the stair case could break at any moment. I was already 20 meters high, 3 km up a river bed, and who knows how far away from the nearest hygienic hospital.
I got down.
Later the magic man explained it was their job to "protect the Buddha". I guess they still haven't forgotten about the 'evil' European imperialists who came to China in the late 1800s and stole precious artifacts and left thousands of Buddha statues decapitated.
Understandable.On the mountain I found an amazing little temple that dated back to the same period. The paintings on the walls were so impressive. Who would think they were so artistic in the 600's. The temple air was thick with aromatic white smoke. An old women kowtowed before the temple chanting a very rhythmic song. The birds chirped and the crickets sang, around me their was nothing to prove I was in the 21st century. That was until the music started.
As I was leaving the magic man turned into a dj and started blasting Buddhist tunes out the speakers. The notes bounced off all the mountains and added to the atmosphere of area. While studying the surrounding hills carefully you could see remnants of other paintings and small objects carved into the mountains.
What were they thinking?
What drove these zealous people to express their enthusiasm for Buddhism this way? Actually, the whole province is dotted with holy places like this one. Some paintings are in caves and others are in tombs. The more I explore this ancient province the more I uncover the works of the Silk Road Buddhists.
I left the temple on foot. I decided a walk through the gorge would be peaceful. About halfway through the sun began to beat unbearable heat on my bald head. I searched for my suncream in vain. Then I remembered I left it in the hotel.
What was I thinking?
More pics
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=1212562&l=199d2&id=506336427
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