Reflections on Trip to Xi’an and Dunhuang   (September 18-25, 2013)

When my husband and I signed on for this trip to Dunhuang, it was on the strength of recommendations from friends that we must not miss a tour conducted by Lee Mei-yin. It would be our loss, they said, if we bypassed this exceptional opportunity to see the UNESCO World Heritage Dunhuang caves with an expert as Lee laoshi.

We left with the promise that we would be guided to a higher-level appreciation of the Buddhist art treasures of Mogao, and see caves not open to the public. Little did we know that art was only one dimension of the rich experience of travelling with Lee laoshi.

At first sight, the Dunhuang murals are dense and, without guidance, my husband and I found it hard to tease meaning out of them. But by the power of Lee laoshi’s explanation, we could distinguish from the paintings tales and parables, which were a veritable pictorial of Buddhist scripture and tradition on the walls. Unfamiliar with Buddhism, I got to know the various semi-divine “saints” and celestial beings in the Buddhist pantheon. Moving from content, we were directed to admire the elements that contributed to the exquisite artistry: the composition, colors, the impossibly fine strokes, the expressiveness of the figures, and the fluidity of the brushwork. We saw details submerged in the painting that would have escaped the innocent eye. We learned how to distinguish evolving styles according to the dynasty the painting was made in. Throughout, Lee laoshi interspersed her explanation with relevant history, and enlivened it with descriptions of life on the Silk Road. Thanks to her passion and tireless sharing of her encyclopedic knowledge, the Silk Road came alive for me, and what I saw in two dimensions took on three-dimensional meaning.

For example, I discovered that a confluence of cultures flowed through Dunhuang during the Tang dynasty. Depicted in the murals among ethnic Han Chinese were Sogdians, people from Central Asia who dominated the Silk Road trade, Indian deities, Buddhas with Persian and Greek features, and even black slaves. Decorative motifs around the ceilings of caves clearly evoked Islamic and Arabic art. I came to appreciate that the Silk Road not only enabled the exchange of goods between China and the Mediterranean, it was also a conduit for the transmission of civilization and cultures of the different peoples in between. Indeed, in the exhibition of religious scrolls from the Library Cave, I saw Zoroastrian and Christian texts, and texts written in Hebrew, Sanskrit, ancient Uighur and Sodgian. In my mind’s eye, I could picture Dunhuang as a hub of international trade characterized by openness, its inhabitants cosmopolitan and the religious atmosphere ecumenical.

Apart from visiting the famous caves, we were guided to appreciate the disappearing asset these treasures are, as nature, climate and man-made wear and tear conspired to destroy the paintings before our eyes. To deepen our understanding, we went to see the banks of computers engaged in the real-time management of the caves, witnessed on-site repair work, and toured the Dunhuang labs where scientific research were being conducted on the threats to the caves. To check the encroaching desert, we even pitched in to plant resistant grass above the cliff on the face of which the caves were constructed. As the present would not be but for the past, we visited the graves of the pioneers of Dunhuang whose life long sacrifices to document and preserve Dunhuang resulted in its recognition as a world heritage.

Looking forward to a “cultural” tour, I came away with an intellectual abundance that was beyond my expectation. It was a joy to be on a tour as in-depth, extensive and well-designed as this one. The common conclusion of those who came was how lucky we were. For Cantonese speakers with weak Putonghua facility, this tour is a must. If Lee laoshi considers another tour of this sort, I would be telling others as my friends first told me, “It would be your loss if you pass it up.”