After twenty-four hours of travel we have reached the other side of the planet (twelve time zones from our home in rural North Carolina). We feel lucky to have made it here on schedule since our plane was among the last to make it out of the Charlotte Airport before the coming hurricane shut it down. Then we had a mechanical problem that delayed our Chicago to Tokyo flight and it was only with an all-out sprint that we made our connection in Japan. Our guide, Su Li met us at the airport. She is incredibly energetic with a classic Asian beauty. Su Li speaks English extremely well , though she’s never been out of China. It’s wonderful to leave the hectic airports behind!

Our hotel is modern and plush – definitely a first for us! We even have cable in English and we watch CNN to see the progress of the hurricane that nearly canceled our flight from Charlotte. It hardly feels like we’re in another country yet.

Just returned from our first days tour. We saw Tiennaman Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer and Winter Palace. The sun is a hazy circle in the sky – a mixture of smog and fog veiling the city. The heat and thick humidity are slightly oppressive and I can’t imagine what it must be like here in the summer! Bicyclists, pedestrians, and cars mix together in a chaotic soup: incredibly avoiding disaster by inches and fractions of seconds so often that everyone takes it all in stride.

On our way back to the hotel we stooped at the National Gallery of China and bought some stamps with our names carved in Chinese characters as well as some calligraphy brushes I want to use for doing watercolors. The regular exhibition space was closed so we were limited to the Museum store. The funniest thing was that hanging amid dozens of "original" paintings for sale was a copy of one of Richard’s nudes from his book. They wouldn’t let me take pictures or I’d have e-mailed Richard a photo of it hanging there.

Our guide and driver are waiting to take us to a famous restaurant for a Peking Duck diner, Susan’s favorite meal. Susan is sleeping right now, exhausted. I’m strangely energized as usual at the start of a trip (if not for a sleeping pill I never would have gotten to sleep last night). I keep thinking of the history of this civilization. One feels small amidst the vastness of humanity here. Can’t wait to paint.

September 2 – 1999

The Peking Duck last night was an interesting experience, though not a very appetizing meal. The rooms looked more like a badly decorated communist meeting center out of the 50’s, with a nearly indescribable gold foil wallpaper everywhere. We quickly realized that the American version of Peking Duck is vastly different than the authentic version, which consists basically of fat-laden skin (all kinds of fat are highly prized delicacies here, probably because so few people ever get to eat it). The only thing more unappetizing than the meal itself (we only tried a bite or two before giving up) was hearing our guide describe the process of force-feeding the duck during its 27 day life and then the equally gruesome process of its 3-day long preparation. I left the restaurant feeling starving and guilty.

Susan and I are sitting in a parking lot resting after lunch. This morning we saw the Great Wall and it was absolutely spectacular. Susan is exhausted from the climbing, heat, and intense humidity. She says her heart actually hurts. Sun Yan dressed up in a traditional costume and I took a couple of photos of her that I hope to paint. I’m a little worried about Susan and hope she isn’t getting sick.

The majority of tourists we see are Chinese with almost no Americans and very few Europeans, which intensifies the sense of being in another country.

Scott Burdick
"The Great Wall"  charcoal  13" by 17"

Scott Burdcik
"Smiling"  oil  24" by 18"
I loved this old man's face! He worked at the Great Wall collecting plastic bottles for recycling. This man is a descendent of the workers who built this section of the wall. When they'd completed their work, they settled right next to the wall in a newly constructed villiage they built as well.

Scott Burdick
"Misty Afternoon at the Great Wall"    Oil    6" by 8"

Scott Burdick
"Entrance to the Great Wall"   Oil   14" by 11"

The Ming tombs were large and regal, making one feel truly in the presence of a great country with a magnificent history. Few of the European sites we’ve visited over the years took such good care of their historical monuments. I was also impressed with the patience and foresight of the Chinese people and government given the fact that they’ve left several of the largest tombs unopened until a time when technology advances to the point where less damage will occur to the artifacts inside when opened. In contrast to our instant culture, so much of China reveals a different way of looking at the world. Things like the Great Wall are examples of projects spanning centuries – making something like the Trans-continental Railroad in the US seem like child’s play by comparison.

And then, just for contrast…

After the Ming Tomb, our guide, Yan, offered to take us to a traditional Chinese "medical center", which was on the road back to the city. We shrugged and said, sure, why not.

As we walked through the doors to the "hospital", my first impression was of the incredible dimness of the green florescent lights that stretched off down an extremely long corridor. At the end of the hallway we passed the bathrooms and, even from the outside, the smell was intense. "Do sick people stay in this hospital?" Susan asked Yan. "Oh, no," Yan said, "this is for research and for people to get traditional herbs and medicine."

We passed a shelved wall with dozens of jars filled with some of the ingredients of the medicines – pickled snakes were the only ones I cared to look at long enough to identify. Then we were taken into a bare classroom-type room with half a dozen tables and chairs and a single, dim florescent bulb. On the wall to the left were three posters illustrating the important acupuncture points of the body. On the front wall an antique air-conditioner labored noisily, with a stained bucket catching the constant stream of water leaking out of it.

A vacuous woman with a white doctors coat came in and began her lecture on traditional Chinese medicine in a sharp, commanding voice more reminiscent of a drill Sargent than a doctor. The way she stood, the firm tone of her voice, and the examples she gave of the superiority of herbs over Western medicine made one quite uneasy. I looked back and noted that the door was definitely closed. After twenty minutes, Susan’s eyes had that glazed expression I’d seen so often before (mostly when I was teaching her how to use the computer).

Finally our lecturer reached the end of her well memorized talk. "Now we will have a demonstration by two of our Yoshi masters." She began clapping and we obligingly followed suit as two young men in their twenties entered, both also wearing doctors’ smocks. As the first took center stage and stood in a tense, yogi-like pose of meditation, the other plugged in a double cord with two metal wires on the other end.

Like a circus ringmaster, the woman told us in a grand tone the wires were filled with 220 volts of electricity. The Yoshi master took hold of the two ends of the wire with his bare hands and then touched them to the bottom of a bare light bulb, which promptly lit up.

Next, everyone in the room was instructed to hold hands (Susan declined) so we could feel the vibrations of electricity going through our body. I remember doing both these things in high school chemistry and began feeling like I’d gone back in time 100 years when "electrotherapy" was the fad therapy for every ailment conceivable. The Yoshi masters exited and we were instructed to applaud once again for several traditional doctors who sat down across from each of us.

"You may wonder how doctors can tell what is happening in heart, liver, kidney, stomach, and blood just from feeling your pulse, but no need to ask, doctor will show you for free!"

The doctor asked my age, which is 32, felt my right wrist, then my left, and then looked at my tongue.

"You have pain in your shoulder?" he asked.

"No," I answered.

"Hmm, you have pain in your lower back?"

"None"

He felt both my wrists again. "Your blood has too much heat and thickness," he diagnosed. "Do you know your cholesterol level?" I didn’t. He seemed pleased and told me authoritatively that though I was in good health now I was in danger of high cholesterol in the future and that the third of a long list of herbs would help me. Would I like to buy some now? I said I’d have to think about it.

After the same pulse and tongue examination, Susan was told she was low on energy and blood flow. The doctor asked if she was tired – Susan replied that, yes, she was (not much of a surprise after a 24 hour flight and a day climbing the stairs at the Great Wall). He prescribed a herb on his list to boost her energy. Susan asked if the herb worked for her, where she might get some in the US. The doctor said that this particular herb could only be gotten through them, but they could ship to the US every month – cost $60 per month, not including shipping charges, but hey, who can put a price on good health, after all!

Susan, said not now, but she’d think about it. The doctor didn’t look happy.

We were the first of the roomful of tourists to leave. I noticed the rest seemed deep in conversation with their doctors – the way they held the hands of their patients was very reminiscent of palm readers.

"That was surreal," Susan summed up as we gratefully emerged into the outside light once again.

I learned from Yan that the hospital was about five years old, no doubt built by the government specifically for tourists. All the guides are employed by the government tourist bureau and are no doubt under orders to take all their charges to such places not listed on the tour's itinerary. Tourist traps are ubiquitous the world over, but I’ve never seen any quite like this one before.

Susan painting in the Forbidden City

Susan and I just returned from painting our first sketch in the forbidden city. Many people and children were fascinated with what we were doing and a group of younger boys in their late teens wanted my signature and to have their picture taken with us. Susan really did a nice painting – mine was average. The pollution was especially thick in the air today and both of our lungs feel heavy. The sun is never very bright in the sky because of this, giving everything a slightly gloomy feel. I can hardly imagine living here all year round.

Susan Lyon
"Tea House in the Forbidden City"  oil  8 1/2" by 13"

We are going to have lunch at the hotel and then go out walking. I would love to do another painting, but I don’t think Susan is up to it.

Went to Liulichahang Culture Street and bought about forty pounds of Art books. There are so many incredible artists out there! I also bought a watercolor from a Chinese woman artist selling her paintings out of a corner gallery. Both of us are emotionally drained from all the spending and visual overload!

Almost forgot lunch! Very ritzy restaurant – some menu samples: dog fifty different ways. Ox penis a couple ways. Brains, intestines… I think you get the idea. That said, we had a great lunch!

Went to Taoranting Park and both Susan and I did two paintings each with a nice lunch in between. We’re still amazed at how cheap everything is. Taoranting Park was really beautiful – extremely clean and well kept up. It isn’t on any of the tourist maps and was the most relaxing day we’ve had. It was fun watching all the parents with their children (actually child, since they’re only allowed one per family). You rarely hear a child crying since the parents lavish love and attention on them. We didn’t see one westerner the whole day and everyone was quite interested in what we were doing – once again some teenage boys wanted to have their picture taken with me.

A little boy ran up to Susan and gave her a flower, which she wore on her backpack.

Scott Burdick
"Taoranting Park"  Beijing, China - oil - 8" by 6"

Scott Burdick
"Taoranting Park #2"  Beijing, China - oil - 8" by 6"

September 5 – 1999

Beijing airport to Xi’an. Crowds – chaos – loudspeaker painfully loud – seats red, cheap plastic – many sitting on floors – group of teen Chinese backpackers playing cards with middle aged German couple – smell of body odor – beautiful Asian woman sitting with obvious thug/criminal figure (porcelain skin contrast to bearded, pockmarked and scarred skin) – four plush recliner chairs-for-hire with a girl standing by whose job is to collect fee from anyone willing to rent them (I can think of no more boring job than this and she is a tragic figure. In the time we are there I see none rent a chair.) – No order in any of the ticket lines, cutting in front of others is the norm.

A stewardess opens the door and shouts something in Chinese. Instantly everyone rushes the gate, shoving and struggling to gain some advantage on those around them. When we finally make it to our seats, which smell horrible, the ancient Russian jet begins taking off even before everyone is seated. We practically hold our noses for the entire, mercifully brief, flight.

On the drive from the airport we pass a man bringing a cart of produce to market with the help of a horse drawn cart. Behind him is a huge field where farmers are working the crops entirely by hand using methods Marco Polo would have recognized. Behind this, two smoking towers of a nuclear power plant rise up in the hazy distance. As I snap a photo I wonder where else I could see the transition from man-power, to horse power, to nuclear power all in the same scene.

Xi’an is a strange dichotomy. We’re staying in a five star hotel that boasts half a dozen visits by US Presidents including Clinton, Bush, etc. The street in front of the hotel is like Chicago’s Michigan Avenue, although the pollution and car fumes is enough to make you pass out. But turn down the first side street and you’ve entered another world – another time, in fact. How to describe? Can’t – photos much better, though trying to take photos on a crowded market street (the side streets are really more like mazelike alleyways) where every single occupant stops what they’re doing to stare in amazement at you is a definite challenge. Susan and I are definitely the major attraction on these streets.

The only people I successfully photographed naturally are the hordes of card players – so engrossed in their gambling that I would take three or four photos before someone noticed, which then caused them to hide the money and angrily wave me off. It’s as if they’re afraid I’ll show the photos to the police or something (this despite the fact that thy play cards in groups of fifty or so right out on the street in plain view of the busy streets).

The only English word we hear is "hello" – usually shouted by children who smile and laugh jubilantly when we say "hello" back.

The sensory overload on these streets is intense and I’m utterly exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The worst and best thing is the incredible faces of the very old people, all of whom refuse when asked if I might take their picture. I would give anything to spend a month here with someone to hire me a steady stream of models I could paint and photograph!

September 6 – 1999

Our guide, Lee, told us that ten years ago he was assigned to be a guide for tourists because he’d studied English in college. At that time you had no choice of your career but your job was secure. Now students can choose what they want to do, but are not guaranteed job security. Lee says that the "iron rice bowl has turned to glass".

We went first to the picturesque hot springs. It has a long history, including being the residence of Ho Chi Min (who was once kidnapped from there).

Next was the Terra Cotta warriors, which was both awe inspiring and utterly mind boggling due to the massive scale.

In the tiny bookstore at the Museum I noticed an older man sitting at a table. His face was weathered and filled with character, seeming out-of-place here. The museum was nearly empty and the old man’s head nodded sleepily as I came up to him and asked to take his photo for 5 Yuan. He accepted gratefully and I snapped a photo. When I returned to our guide I learned that this man was one of the farmers who discovered the terra-cotta warriors while digging a well in 1974. Since he got nothing from the government for this, he now spends his time signing books in the bookstore for about 25 cents each.

We also were taken to several other government owned tourist traps which I’ve decided we’ll have to forcefully turn down in the future since time is simply too valuable to waste on such things.

The pollution was once again terrible though it cleared up some in the evening when we went shopping in the upscale stores along the modern main streets. Susan bought some clothes and continued to attract a crowd. In one store, when she was buying a skirt for the astronomical price of $50, I counted all ten of the sales girls gathered around her. I attract far less attention, though still quite a bit by normal standards.

For dinner I had pizza and Susan Dim Sung (with drinks) for a total of $2.50!

Crossing streets in Xi’an is a definite adrenaline rush – there’s never a clear break so you go ahead bit by bit, very reminiscent of the old video game "Frogger".

The one right that Chinese drivers seem to hold dear is the right to blow their horn. The skill and variety with which our driver uses it make it seem almost a musical instrument. Practice, practice, practice!

As in Europe, platform shoes of all kinds are the thing for the young.

September 7 – 1999

Exhausted this morning on our flight to Kunming. Our guide in Kunming is Tao Li Sha (Sarah is her English name, which all guides choose themselves). She is a bubbly and happy 22 year old who’s only been working as a guide for two months. Next September she will be working in Disney World’s "World Village" – apparently they came here to recruit people recently. She tells us that Disney will pay her $5 an hour and she must pay $95 a month for a dorm room she’ll share with two other girls. This compares with $5 a day she makes as a guide here (though she also gets tips).

We went to the Gates of Heaven first. Susan was very scarred by the ski-lift ride up to the top of the mountain , though it was incredible to breath clean air again! We descended the mountain via stone stairs along the side and through tunnels cut into the rock itself. Far below, the lake is a jade-like green that added to the magical aura of the place. Li Sha said that this was the least crowded she’d ever seen the place, which was good because it was still difficult passing people on the narrow and slippery stairs.

The most striking thing about Kunming is its ethnic minorities and their wondrously colorful costumes. I’ve taken lots of pictures and we also bought an elaborate, hand-made costume. Some of the other highlights of the day was a Buddhist temple with amazingly elaborate stone and wood carvings. We also met an artist who did an ink demo of some reeds and gave it to us as a gift. I reciprocated by using his brush to do an ink painting of a bearded face and gave it to him.

As I’m writing this we’re on our way to the Stone Forest, though we’re currently stuck in a massive traffic jam on a detour road (the main road was closed by a house-sized boulder that fell onto it). I watch as the car’s gas gauge drifts closer and closer to empty – this could be a very long "two hour" drive.

The road winds among rivers, gorges, and very steep hills – what one might imagine Burma would look like. When I mention this, Li Sha tells us that we are actually on the very road that the American’s had bombed in World War II to stop the Japanese invasion. Shocked at this, I tell her that I have a Great Uncle who came over as a ground crew mechanic with the Flying Tigers and that I’ve heard and read all about that event. Excitedly, I look around at the scenery with a new sense of awe, trying to picture those long-ago events in my mind’s-eye. But my enthusiasm is nothing compared to Li-Sha’s. She tells me that her parent’s village was the very next one in the path of the halted Japanese and that I must thank my uncle for her.

Scott Burdick -- "Tobacco Harvest"  Charcoal  20" by 30"
The people in this villiage near the Stone Forest were using the same methoods of hand-harvesting that the farmers in our area of North Carolina told me their fathers and grandfathers had used a hundred years ago.

The Stone Forest was interesting but the minority groups living nearby, some with spectacularly colorful costumes, was the highlight of the day for Susan and I. We also saw a "bullfight" (actually between two bulls) which was somewhat campy but fun nevertheless. The bulls basically go head to head and neck to neck, pushing and heaving and snorting for about ten minutes until one gives in and retreats. I liked this much more than the Spanish-style bullfights where the bull is slaughtered.

Scott Burdick
"Afternoon at the Stone Forest"  oil  18" by 24"

Susan Lyon
"Seamstresses Daughter"  oil  20" by 16"

As I’m writing this, we are, of course, once again stuck in a huge traffic jam on our way back from the stone forest. We’ve been driving for three hours so far and aren’t even half way yet. The trip back is normally only two hours!

Sometimes when things come to a complete stop and everyone turns off their engines, I walk ahead a couple of miles until the car catches up with me. This is far nicer than sitting in the car, but you have to be really careful of some treacherous holes dug along the side of the road. Every once and a while people will call our and wave to me excitedly. Strangely, even though the Stone Forest is a major tourist site, we haven’t seen a single other Westerner all day.

By the time we reached the main road, Susan was crashing from low blood sugar so we stopped and got her a coke, cookies, and an ice cream bar. Also bought her some clothes and cool dolls. In town, our search for a working ATM continued, money being desperately short. The first banks ATM was out-of-order due to the Y2-K bug but the next one worked! I took out my maximum daily allowance now that I knew how scarce such machines are in China.

Exhausted, we reached our hotel and collapsed in front of TV – which was actually showing the US Open live! Thank goodness we have a free day tomorrow – I don’t think I could handle a plane ride!

September 9 – 1999

Woke up exhausted at 2:00 am but couldn’t get back to sleep. Felt horrible all day – not much appetite and sore all over. Will have to take a sleeping pill tonight.

Susan and I both did a small sketch in Green Lake Park in the morning but the rest of the day I just stayed in bed to rest.

Susan Lyon
Green Lake Park  4 1/4 by 9 oil

Flew to Dali today. The airports are an interesting experience every time. Now that we are acquiring more luggage, we hover near the boarding doors so that when the boarding surge occurs we are swept along at the front of the wave toward the plane – I’ve never surfed before, but I imagine it must be similar. On the plane, the stewardesses rush down the aisle handing everyone a drink randomly. I got a coke, Susan a mango fruit drink, and the woman next to me a water – if you don’t like what you get you can try and trade with someone else. Near the end of the flight they went back down the aisle tossing white, polo-style shirts with the airline’s logo on it into everyone’s lap.

Dali is very old-fashioned and most of the people in the surrounding villages still dress in their traditional, colorful clothes. I got some incredible photos of woman sewing at the Butterfly Museum, though our guide seemed very puzzled why Susan and I preferred staying outside the museum where all the vendors and seamstresses were rather than going into the museum itself.

Scott Burdick
"Sewing at Butterfly Spring"  oil  20" by 16"

Our guide, Shui, is very nice, but his English isn’t very good and it can be mentally taxing holding a conversation with him.

Our lunch is a traditional gourmet meal that comes with the day’s tour and is truly inedible except for the rice. Just like the Peking Duck, it seems that the main ingredient of more expensive meals is fat (wrapping morsels in raw bacon fat seems a particular favorite). Because of the language barrier we have been unable to order the simple fried rice or noodles that you can get on the street for about 25 cents a bowl.

We haven’t seen any Westerners even at the hotel and it seems that Dali is far off the usual tourist track. The surrounding area is incredibly beautiful – the mist and cloud shrouded mountains a mysterious backdrop to the geometric and vividly green rice fields that lay on the flat Plaines between the mountains and lake.

September 11 – 1999

Susan and I took one look at the "breakfast buffet" and laughed. There were a couple of people from France who looked equally horrified at the indecipherable food. Following their lead, we loaded up on the couple of pastries off to the side.

We took a boat to a couple of fishing villages this morning. The air was cool and fresh and surrounding mountains made the entire scene absolutely idyllic. Someday I’m sure that the modest houses of the fishermen will be completely replaced by wealthy vacation homes and hotels.

Scott Burdick -- "Pastel Sky"    Oil    6" by 8"

The villages themselves were alive with activity and a thriving fish market. Susan and I had some fried potatoes on a stick which were excellent – especially at only 10 cents apiece! (Golden Shutter Village) We wanted to make sure and fill up before lunch after yesterday’s experience and it was good we did. The worst part of it was that after not daring to touch any of the dozen dishes placed in front of us, we walked by where the guides were eating fried rice and chicken (which isn’t considered good enough for the tourists)!

Finished the guided section of the tour around 2:00 and both of us were relieved to be on our own for a while. We rested an hour at the hotel then took our painting gear to foreigner street where we had a good diner of pizza and spaghetti! Then we set up by the north wall tower to paint. Susan did a nice painting but I couldn’t get my self excited about painting another Pagoda. I tried getting some old woman to pose for me, but don’t think they understood. I had our guide write down an offer to pay someone to pose for a painting for money and will try again tomorrow.

Susan Lyon
"Old Town- Dali"   Oil  8" by 6"

September 12 – 1999

Painted again today – not a good start for me, though. I first tried a market scene, but within five minutes I was hemmed in by about fifty people! They were so intent in watching that those in front were literally pressing against my back and both sides. I used to think that I could block out any number of people watching, but after only a couple of minutes of watching the crowd grow larger and larger, I had to give up.

I found Susan painting in a quieter spot just outside the north gate. 

Susan Lyon
"Market square in Dali"   Oil   8" by 6"

I set up as well and did a so-so painting of the gate and wall. I put a little smoke in that was coming up from some cooking pots and without fail everyone who came by pointed to this part of the painting with a delighted shout to those doing the cooking.

Scott Burdick
"Dali Wall" Dali, China - oil - 6" by 8"

I had a little adventure during this painting when an old man came up to me and made it clear that he wanted me to paint him. I had one of the watching crowd read him the note that explained I would pay him 50 Yuan if he would pose for two hours – he agreed and I set my street-scene aside and got out a new panel. As I reached for the panel I raised up slightly from portable stool. As I sat back down, I sprawled backward onto the gravely cement and scraped my forearm. As the watching group roared with laughter, I looked over and saw one of the little children curiously examining the stool.

When I finally had everything settled, the old man sat for only two minutes before becoming bored and walking off. Back to the street scene!

After painting we rested and just walked around the rest of the day. There was a brief rainstorm and I did a painting of the mountains out of our hotel window as the sun was going down.

Scott Burdcik
"Cloudy Afternoon"   Oil   6" by 8"

Sitting in our favorite restaurant on foreigner street, waiting for breakfast. There is a very interesting man who every day asks to shine my shoes, even though they are black cloth. He is a character and lays out dozens of business cards (among the hundreds he carries) of people who’s shoes he’s shined and who have written brief testimonials to his shoe-shining prowess. Some are so old and tattered that they’re barely readable and it looks as though nearly every major language of the world is represented. Since he cannot read the cards themselves, some of his customers have written rather humorous notes like; "This guy is a real character and bugged me all week to shine my shoes, so I finally let him."

Every time a group of young soldiers marched by the local peasants invariably broke into laughter -- I'm not sure if it was the youth of the soldiers or their marching in step to military chants.

An observation on photographing people:

The best places are either a completely touristy place you pay to get into or a place completely off the beaten trail. At the paid tourist attractions so many people are taking photos as well that people get used to them and don’t even seem to notice when you point your camera (some people will still occasionally ask you for money for the photo but when it’s somewhere you’ve paid to get in taking photos is generally considered part of the fee so you needn’t feel guilty about it). What I sometimes did to get a more natural shot of someone was to have Susan stand in front of me as if I was taking the standard tourist shot of her, while instead pointing the telephoto lens over her shoulder at the real subject.

Scott Burdick
"Apple Sellers"  30" by 16"  oil

At the other end of the spectrum in small villages and the like where people seem perfectly happy (if somewhat bemused) to let you photograph them. I always ask, though, and if they say no it’s they’re right and I respect that. The worst places are the ones in between the two extremes – markets and such near touristy places. Here people will try and extort large sums of money if they see your lens pointed anywhere near them.

Went back to Butterfly Spring in the morning so I could take some more photos of the woman sewing. It was really crowded this time – some tourists from Beijing asked to have their photo taken with Susan because they said she was so beautiful. It was funny seeing them line up and one after another stand next to her for their photo as if she were some sort of monument.

Scott Burdick
"In the Park with Grandchild" oil - 14" by 11"

Then we continued on the bumpy bus to a huge market on the side of a mountain. We only saw a tiny slice of it, but I got some great photos. Everyone was dressed in traditional costumes, selling everything from chickens, to jewelry, to old engines. The crush of people gets to one very quickly, however, so we stayed only about a half hour or so.

Scott Burdick
"Prized Possession" oil - 34" by 30"

Scott Burdick
 "Weighing Apples" oil - 30" by 12"

Next we took a ski-lift up the mountain and had a spectacular view of Dali, the lake, the distant mountains, and the wondrous cloud formations.

September 14 – 1999

This morning we’re on the road from Dali to Lijiang by car. The road is smooth and incredibly beautiful as it winds through a mountain range that appears very ancient due to the smoothness of the peaks. We must be very high as I can feel the thinness of the air in my.

Most of the way is unsettled and wild but here and there we run across a patchwork of isolated fields. The Chinese army singles out our car for a check and has our driver get out and show several documents. I don’t know what was said, but there was a lot of laughing and looking at us. It’s quite an eye-opening experience being so isolated in such large groups of Asians – makes one more understanding of what it’s like to be a minority somewhere.

The only slow down is a place where a rockslide has obliterated a large section of the road. It has been cleared enough for us to creep past and then we start back down the pass toward Lijiang.

Lijiang proved to be utterly beautiful. The old section is unique; manicured and almost European in feel with cobbled streets and a river that runs through the center of town. Lots of tourists, internet cafes, and even good pizza with imported mozzarella cheese!

Susan Lyon
Newspaper Stand  10 by 8  oil

The altitude here is 8,000 feet and we must have built up our tolerance in Montana at NWR and in the last week because it doesn’t seem to be affecting us much.

September 15 – 1999

Headed out at 8:00 am for Jade Mountain. It was raining and our guide didn’t mention how cold it would be up on the mountain and that we’d be taking open ski lift chairs to the top in the rain (or we would have brought our warmer clothes and coats). Because of this we had to rent coats and were still cold in the freezing rain. At the top I got some nice photos of girls in fur caps, but the surrounding mountains were mostly obscured by clouds.

Scott Burdick
"Fur Hats"   Oil   20" by 16"

At the bottom I took some more pictures of Yaks and herdsmen who were doing a brisk business having Chinese tourists dress up and get their pictures taken on Yaks. I paid a woman to take a picture of her son with their Yak – which confused and greatly amused them (they kept trying to get Susan to put on a costume and get on the Yak instead – they just couldn’t understand why I would want a photograph of them).

Scott Burdick
"A Boy and his Yak"   Oil    14" by 18"

Scott Burdick
"Companions"  charcoal  30" by 40"

Our guide is a native Naxi girl of 21. Her English is very basic however and I don’t think she has the right personality to be a guide. She goes through the motions and is nice, but really should be doing something else. Problem is, around here it’s either farming or being a guide and I’m sure her job pays far more than anything else she could do.

Saw another temple and got back to the hotel around 2:00. Susan and I just rested until the evening music recital which was great. The older men in their costumes were especially interesting. Saw lots of Chinese artists painting on the street. One of them told us that they were from an Art school near here.

Scott Burdick
"Ancient Archway"   oil   16" by 20"

September 16 – 1999

Went to Dragon Lake Park and both of us did paintings of a pavilion with mountains in the background. Spent most of the rest of the day exploring Old Town and looking for a couple more costumes.

Susan Lyon
Reflections-Lijiang  8 by 6 oil

Scott Burdick
"Mountain Reflections"  oil - 8" by 6"  Lijiang, China

September 17 – 1999

Painted again in Dragon Lake Park -- I started one of a lion statue, washed it off, did another of some red lanterns, started another, had to quit when rain started. Tired and a bit depressed today.

Susan Lyon
Knitting a Red Shawl   10 by 8 oil