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Lost treasures of Middle China
Captivated by the beauty of Kucha’s murals, the ancient Buddhist kingdom north of the vast Taklamakan Desert of Xinjiang, I veered eastwards to Urumchi, moving slowly towards the end of a long journey that commenced at the borders of Afghanistan. Today, this is the modern heart of Xinjiang, a province of 1.6 million square kilometres ringed with mountains and consumed by the Taklamakan. With some skyscrapers and motorways, a stark contrast to the crumbling desert ruins I was more familiar with throughout, Urumchi is a hotchpotch of a city, established in the 8C AD but with little significance for the Silk Road. My interest in it was passing; I hoped to locate the “Mummies of Urumchi”, in fact mummies of Loulan farther south-east.

From my ramshackle hotel room next to the central rail station, I travelled to a rather hopefully termed museum which seemed to be a museum to itself. Renovation works, I was told, “were going on” for some years, though with what result it was not evident. Eventually, and with anxiety, I located some gloomy rooms at its rear.

The Cherchen mummies and the “Beauty of Loulan”
My fascination lay with an extraordinary series of ancient Caucasian (“European”) mummies which were largely (re-)discovered between 1985-96, entombed in the dry Loulan region of middle China (earlier archaeologists Aurel Stein and Sven Hedin made similar discoveries in the 1920s). Remarkably preserved, these nearly 4000 year-old mummies are astonishingly not of Mongoloid origin as one might expect in China. Instead they are of Indo-Aryan, Caucasian origin, of a lineage from the Caucasus in Europe.

The exhibits were astounding. A 6 foot 6 inch fair skinned 3000-year-old mummy, known as “Cherchen Man” (after the locality of discovery) and aged 55 years, was gracefully asleep, knees drawn up and wrapped in a claret coloured long gown finely woven by hand and edged with an intertwined coloured beading. Multi-coloured woollen stockings were bound tightly around his shins and he wore deerskin boots. His face was decorated with orange-yellow sun insignia, indicative of early rituals, while his hair, beard and skin were in excellent condition thanks to an exceedingly dry environment. Three sacrificial women, including a 45-year-old six footer, were buried with him. A three-month baby wrapped in an orange-red dyed woollen cloth bound with striking red and blue cords and wearing a dyed blue cap was also a haunting scene, with carefully placed flat blue stones over each eye. Several other striking female mummies were present.

Perhaps the most startling was “The Beauty of Loulan” discovered in 1980: a petite, 5 foot, Caucasian auburn-haired woman with a serene face bound in a wool and fur woven shroud, with bearskin boots adorning her feet. Her head was enclosed in a finely woven felt cap, to which her beloved family had pinned a solitary goose feather one day 3900 years ago. The sense of emotion it evoked was almost as palpable as perhaps those that it must have aroused around her family at her death, the care with which she was laid to rest so touching. A range of implements and burial items provide a glimpse into an extraordinary wandering society crossing this elemental Xinjiang landscape nearly 1500 years before the Buddha was born.

Of a pre-Mao “Long March”?
What were these Caucasians doing in this region? Where had they come from? What drove them here? What skills had they developed? What did they believe in? The questions are many, as extraordinary as their presence in China. One of the most revealing aspects was in the very sophistication of their clothes. Their weaving techniques were analyzed in 1999 by a leading textile archaeologist, Elizabeth Wayland Barber, who has drawn surprising parallels with methods known by the Celts. Indeed, similar beautiful checked cloths (circa 1200-700BC) found with burials near Hami, Xinjiang (see map) bear astonishing resemblance to traditional modern Scottish ‘tartan’ checks. Pieces of twill woven in light brown with light blue and white cross-hatched stripes are not unlike those discovered discarded by Celtic miners in the Austrian salt mines at Hallstatt (circa 1300-400BC). As I peered inches away from the face of these long departed souls, preserved in glass sarcophagi, the remarkable body details still present and overall brilliance of their clothes made me feel, in a way, that values of life had perhaps not really changed all that much (sacrifices excepting). We who pride ourselves on the sometimes bizarre revelations of this season’s summer-wear on the catwalk should perhaps spare a passing thought for the intricate elegance of BC 1900!

In December 2005, I had travelled to Bolzano, Italy to see the much acclaimed “Ice Man, the First European” (5800 years old), discovered in 1991 in Austria’s Oetzal mountain region in Tirol (but just 90 metres inside today’s Italy, causing some consternation). It was interesting for me to draw the similarities with the (better preserved) Cherchen mummies, and surprising that none of the museum literature mentioned such Caucasian mummies found in distant China. While perhaps not wishing to accent on its nominal “European” heritage, China has on her hands “world heritage” human finds that are centre stage in any advanced museum across the world.

A grape heaven in the Turpan Depression
From Urumchi, relieved at finally witnessing this extraordinary human migration, I explored the Turpan Depression, the second lowest on earth at 154m b.s.l. after the Dead Sea and nearly 13,000 square kilometres in extent. The town of Turpan is not one renowned for having a pleasant climate. Soaring temperatures of upto 49C are common and historical references speak much of the dreadful insects, including scorpions, spiders and so-called “giant” cockroaches, that plagued Silk Road travellers in their beds. It was not my wish to sample these and having endured some questionable abodes, I hoped that my luck would hold. Instead, what I encountered was very much more agreeable.

Turpan today is a lush oasis, a real grape heaven. Travelling here by bus and train, I encountered an orderly large town, with unexpectedly cool marble-floored pavements, trellised by overhanging grape vines. Succulent grapes were trailing down, still immature in June, shading me as I walked down lengthy walkways in the summer heat. Hidden overhead were loudspeakers hailing radio announcements in Chinese, keeping its public informed as they strolled; many elderly citizens were walking backwards.

The life-giving Karez
Turpan’s lushness is entirely due to the resourcefulness of its ancestors, not nature. In an otherwise rocky, wind-swept desert landscape caught in between the Taklamakan (west) and Gobi Desert (east), a striking ring of greenery encapsulates the town. Nearly 2000 years ago, influenced by an Iranian civilization, the Uighur people here excavated a famous “karez” well system, a simple idea but a rather difficult undertaking. This was an underground series of some 1000+ hand dug tunnels with a total run length of 5000 km, starting with a head well in the snowy Bogda mountains. Vertical hand cut bore holes extending at 20 metre intervals then ran across the steppe desert to the settlement where emerging waters were distributed through irrigated channels to farmers.

The tunnels were regularly maintained by hand, a well structured community undertaking, and provided water by gravity flow for over 2000 years, turning an impossible terrain into a velvet green garden! It is difficult to believe that a project on such a subterranean scale to circumvent nature could be conceived so far back and executed flawlessly by hand without any mechanical assistance. When I think of the wasted lands and deformed human misery of Karalpakstan, Aral Sea in distant Uzbekistan (through which the Silk Road also runs), rendered toxic through the consequences of misguided efforts by modern engineers to subvert water flows, the achievements of the Uighurs are all the more remarkable. Moreover, in the extreme heat of this region, the underground system minimizes evaporation, conserving precious water and yielding a cool refreshing flow in Turpan!

Winding my way around this oasis, I sampled Turpan’s rich harvest. I sat in a rural farmhouse courtyard under grape vines, seeking a cool refuge from a burning sun – reminiscing far-off Grinzing vineyards of Vienna which I knew intimately. Two Uighur girls in colourful costumes twirled to distinctly Turkic sounding music. The farm family proudly displayed their numerous types of raisins and were happy at my purchase of mulberry and pomegranate wine.

Beziklik and Goachang
The Turpan Depression is home to several Silk Road settlements. In times gone by, Lop Nor, an intriguing residual lake which geologists believe is the remnants of a vast sea that covered the Taklamakan, was a centre of mystery, and around it human habitation had thrived until the rivers that fed it dried up. I took a local taxi to visit Beziklik (in Turkic “the place where there are paintings and ornaments”), another Buddhist cave complex akin to Kucha, located 55kms northeast of Turpan. The landscape is dominated by the high-ridged Flaming Mountains, bathed in red dust. Beziklik was home to a series of about 80 caves along the cliff faces of the Murtuk River gorge.

Explored first by the archaeologist Albert von Le Coq in 1905 and later by Aurel Stein, the site’s treasured paintings of the Buddha (mostly from 9-10 C AD), reflecting largely Indo-Persian and Chinese styles in the period of Uighur Empires, are in a particularly sorry condition. In many caves, the richly depicted figures, including Uighur royalty’s offerings to the Buddha, are badly defaced by both erratic Islamic and other vandalism, and a motley fragment of the originals remain. In addition, many of the finer paintings have been chiselled away by von Le Coq and taken to Berlin, a common fate in many sites I visited.

Turning 45 km east off Turpan, I crossed through the Astana graveyard (housing Han Chinese corpses from 3-5 C AD) to visit the ancient city of Goachang. Goachang is today another rambling desert ruin with snow-capped mountains forming a picturesque backdrop in middle China. In the 9th C AD, it was the vibrant capital of the Uighur region until 1283 when the Mongols arrived from nearby Mongolian plains. Caught between the nomadic lands and China proper (Imperial China then ended here), Goachang’s rulers survived for generations by ingratiating themselves between the northern nomads and paying tribute to the Chinese court.

The existence of the Great Wall from the Han dynasty (206 BC-220 AD) here is a reminder of this historic frontier. Wall fortifications 40 feet thick and 6 km in perimeter enclosed this central Silk Road city which enclosed city ramparts including government and palace compounds. In one corner of this sun baked plain, a distinct three tiered Buddhist stupa and alcoves which once housed statutes are still visible. Yet, a Nestorian Christian temple (7 C AD) was also discovered by von le Coq in 1904, signifying the extraordinary religious melting pot that Goachang (and Turpan region) once was; Zoroastrian, Manichaeism, Buddhism, Christianity and Islam jostled with each other as centuries passed. The sandy expanse of Goachang combined with the midday heat makes it impossible to walk; it is best savoured on a shaded donkey cart ride.

Mogao’s “Caves of a Thousand Buddhas”
My destination on this last leg of the Silk Route was the fabled caves of Mogao, near the town of Dunhuang (“blazing beacon”), originally a garrison settlement in 111 BC. To reach here, I took a long train journey across the deserted landscape from Urumchi and arrived at 2 a.m. at a small railway station at Liuyuan. After negotiating a shared fare, I was bundled into a packed car with at least 6 locals and driven off into the night. The road journey to Dunhuang was endless and 130 km of winding desert road to the town itself was beyond my expectations of a “town” railway station! Rising early with high hopes, I set off by taxi through a sandstorm to the caves. As one approaches, a high desert ridge running across the land reveals indentations of caves and, suddenly, a modern tourist complex beckons.

A world heritage site since 1987, the 735+ Mogao Caves (or Caves of a Thousand Buddhas) are a splendid example of high Buddhist art, spanning many Chinese dynasties, though mainly from 3C AD onwards. It is said that in 366 AD, a passing monk Luo Zun witnessed a vision of a thousand Buddhas floating above near by Mount Sanwei; another version relates that on his way to India, the monk’s disciple, Zhi Qin, went to fetch water from a nearby river.

As Zhi Qin rested, admiring a sunset, he visioned a mountain scene with iridescent light out of which a giant, radiant Maitreya emerged, accompanied by thousands of laughing Buddhas and fairy maidens floating with musical instruments. The disciple was so moved that he painted the first mural on a cave wall to record his vision, and his master, Luo Zun, cancelled his intended journey to India to establish a Buddhist monastery here. A stele erected as early as 698 AD is dedicated to Luo Zun’s story.

Whichever the version, that Zhi Qin’s solitary mural has today blossomed into over 45,000 square metres of stunning murals and over 2400 sculptures is a humbling testimony to human achievements in another era.

The artistic styles, like at other ancient settlements, cover the gamut of Chinese, Indian, Greco-Roman and Iranian influences. I spent as much time as I could in Mogao, but with visitors being grouped (to protect the murals) and only a few alternating caves being unlocked at a time, it was a frustrating, well heeled tour. Exquisite depictions of the Jataka Tales, in a myriad of colours, with intricate and still unstudied tales mixing Buddhism with local lore and symbolisms, cover cave after cave.

Buddhas in all hues, deities, handmaidens, dancers, musicians, ogres, animal motifs, mythical figures, decorative patterns and even paintings of donors themselves fill almost every possible Buddhist oriented imagination. Giant (90-117 feet high) T’ang Buddha statues (circa 8 C AD) - a contrast to more elegant Gandharan styles, fill Caves 96 and 130, dwarfing any onlooker. It is impossible to have a cursory look at the complex; its richly detailed murals demand attention. The expansion of these caves, as with Kilzil, Kumtura, Beziklik and others, was due to the generosity of local patrons and the rich mix of ideas that traders and travellers brought to Mogao. The caves in turn offered protection to the faithful on their own dangerous journeys. The onset of Islam from 9 C AD gradually diminished Mogao’s importance and the complex passed into relative oblivion, but, extraordinarily, still guarded by self-appointed custodians.

The Diamond Sutra
It was British-Hungarian explorer Aurel Stein (1862-1943) who had uncovered much of Xinjiang’s Buddhist treasures and who fundamentally re-discovered the caves for the world. In brief, Stein had visited Dunhuang around 1907 and in the course of negotiations with a Daoist priest, Wang Yuanlu, a self-imposed custodian of Mogao who had been a key protector, he recognized Buddhist manuscripts of great value. While Stein was refused permission to excavate, it was their mutual interest in Xuanzang, the famous 7C AD monk-traveller, that serendipitously unlocked Stein’s way. Subsequently Stein acquired, mostly through petty enticements, over 10,000 priceless manuscripts in a variety of languages which he sent to Europe. Many were found by Wang Yuanlu in a secret sealed chamber off the entrance to Cave 17 (the “Library Cave”), hurriedly or ritually stashed away by monks around 1038 AD seemingly in the face of some oncoming threat. The information that these manuscripts are still providing today is monumental, and scroll by scroll, fascinating details are unfolding about life along the Silk Road.

Besides the richness of its murals and sculptures, Mogao (Cave 17) revealed to Stein an extraordinary secret: the Diamond Sutra (868 AD), todate the world’s oldest block-printed scroll/book of any language.

This scroll contains a Chinese translation by the great Kuchaen monk-translator, Kumarajiva (see Sunday Times, February 19, 2006 “The Light of Kucha”), informing us of the Buddha’s message on the illusory nature of all phenomena. Interestingly, at the end of the scroll, the text reads “reverently made for universal free distribution by Wang Jie on behalf of his two parents on the thirteenth day of the fourth moon of the ninth year of Xiantong [May 11th, 868]”, and over 1100 years later, similar attributions grace many temple works in Sri Lanka.

Some afterthoughts
Mogao was a fitting temporary halt to my long physical journey, one filled with many emotions and reflections, past and present. It is a road that is different for each person, as much a reflection of what you see as who you are and what your life has conditioned you to appreciate and sense at any moment in time. One also wonders at what rich discoveries this fascinating Xinjiang/Gansu regions have for us in the years to come.

Despite the overwhelming emptiness of feeling akin to a nuclear survivor amidst numerous silent desolate ruins where once noisy caravanserais with people, animals, music, war…thrived, and rivers gushed in the Taklamakan, impermanence is everywhere, just as the murals depict. However, due to the painstaking dedication especially of custodians, explorers, historians and archaeologists, we have, at least, reclaimed some knowledge of the rich fabric of societies that lived on the Silk Road. And in some ironic senses, we have gained a human benchmark – in terms of art, religion, philosophy, bloodlines… for another uncertain future, now obsessed with technology.

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