The Eighth Wonder of the World...I Say My Stand-Up Without Flubbing It

Being on this train brings back fond memories of being in South Korea and riding the rails on a bullet train at 200+ miles per hour.

We’re leaving Xi’an and heading to Henan province, which I found out, is not the same as Hunan province. I thought there might’ve been some overlap via Cantonese to Mandarin translation, but that’s not the case. I was looking forward to discovering the origin of the Hunan Beef recipe.

The next few days will be busy and we’ll be living out of suitcases, staying at different hotels each night and cramming in as much of our itinerary as possible. One night in Beijing. Wish we could’ve stopped off in Shanghai. Uncle Chuck and Aunt Rosemary will be disappointed. Whenever I tell people their names, they always say, “Shouldn’t they be called, ‘Ling’ or ‘Ming?’”

Yesterday, we visited a hot spring where an emperor bathed with his favourite concubine. China is full of heartbreaking love stories similar to the style of Pinkerton and Cho-Cho San. In this case, the top concubine was asked to kill herself by the emperor after she poised a threat to China – the rebellion army saw her as a weak point to the ruler. She ended up offing herself. I suppose that’s a bit patriotic.

Lots of farmland outside my window.

The Terracotta Warriors were interesting to see, though I probably didn’t need to see three whole pits of them. The main pit has the majority – about 6,000 of the 8,000. It’s said that there are a total of 12,000, so about 4,000 more need to be uncovered. The emperor at the time wanted his spirit to live on through these figures. It was also a sign of his legacy to humans long after he died.



Doing stand-ups while shooting video is always nerve-wracking, but more so when I was under the gun in front of the army. People would walk by and I began to feel a bit embarrassed of speaking English because I felt they were looking at me weird. It took about a dozen takes but I managed to get a good one in.

A bit more history of the army: The clay figurines were discovered by a farmer in Xi’an in 1974 by accident.

The same farmer now sits there in the Terracotta Army Museum and signs books. You can see he’s lost all passion (if there was any in the beginning) for the archeology discover of “the eighth wonder of the world” and briefly mugs for the camera when someone pays him 50 yuan to take a picture with him. I just find it funny the farmer is an A-list celebrity of sorts there. Lindsay Lohan, the cast of Jersey Shore…and that guy, you know, that guy.

Welcome to Huashan North Station!

Exclamation mark!

I’m on a mission to find a box of chocolate Pocky. I want to see whether that is just a North American-made up product or if they exist in China.

I checked at the train station at a convenience store. No sign of the thin sticks of chocolate goodness in sight but I did manage to find a 5 yuan bottle of questionable booze that contains 52% alcohol content. I think 5 yuan is equal to roughly 70 cents Canadian. Buying that sounds like something a responsible person would do.

I’ve been bringing toilet paper and Wet Naps (good call, Ernest) everywhere. Been trying to get used to Oriental Toilets where you just squat. My biggest concern is pissing all over myself and my jeans, but luckily, that hasn’t been the case. If I ace that, I might start trying to pee standing up. I’ve always wanted to write my name in the snow.

Not related to bathroom etiquette, but this will be the next topic: the food.

We had one of the worst Chinese meals I’ve had in my life today. It was supposed to be a goodbye banquet for us in Xi’an but they took us to a very Western place. Chicken balls would’ve made it better. Our guide, Brick, said he’s “suspicious” when he sees the ratio of Caucasians outnumber Asians in a food establishment.

I’ve been to different places around the globe, but the best Chinese food I’ve had still is in Toronto, hands down. I feel lucky we have eateries like King’s Noodle to satiate us, MSG or not.

I tried my hand at calligraphy and found out, as I am on my feet, I am with black ink on rice paper – clumsy. I did get the museum of an art museum to translate “Yuen” into a Mandarin equivalent and write out the character.




Half of the trip is finished. Still enjoying learning about the roots of my culture, but starting to feel not really homesick, but a yearning to sleep in my own bed. I miss Dave and have been thinking about him lots.

National Jennygraphic continues…