Santa Ana, California
by Debra Young
Sometimes you don’t have to go far to find yourself in another time, almost in another world. Last July, I viewed the Secrets of the Silk Road Exhibition at the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana, California and stepped 3800 years into the past to the days of life along the Silk Road. Yak, horse and camel caravans carried silk, salt, silver, gold, jade, lapis lazuli, brass, copper, medicines, wool, and more to the caravanserai, the market towns and trade cities with fabulously exotic names — Lanzhou, Koko-Nor, Charklick, Khotan, Yarkana, Yangi-hissar, Kashgar, Aksu, Kucha, Lop Nor. I was reminded that our world exists through many incarnations, the rise and fall of cultures and civilizations and people.
The Silk Road was not a single route, but many, a web of roads running from the Caspian Sea in the west to Chang’an, the Tang capital of eighth-century China, in the east, traversing the vast regions of Central Asia, looping over mountains and skirting deserts. On these routes journeyed merchants, monks, mercenaries, armies, and later, when the Silk Road had become an historical legend, explorers and archaeologists, drawn by stories of ruins and lost kingdoms buried in the sands. Among those lost places along the Silk Road are the cities and towns of the Tarim Basin, a region of the arid and inhospitable Taklamakan Desert in northwestern China, where once abided a Bronze Age people of European origin whose mummified bodies and the beautifully crafted objects of their daily lives have been nearly perfectly preserved by the arid conditions of the desert environment.
The Secrets of the Silk Road exhibit presented a hundred and fifty objects excavated from tombs of the Tarim Basin mummies along with two remarkable mummies–“The Beauty of Xiaohe” and that of a baby. A third mummy, too fragile for the rigors of travel, known as Yingpan Man, believed to be a rich Sogdian trader, was represented by a layout of his funeral mask, white with a golden diadem, and his sumptuous clothing, an elaborately patterned red and gold wool caftan, dark brown pants in an ornately embroidered diamond pattern, and gold-ornamented boots. Considering his sumptuous burial clothing, Yingpan Man was held in high regard and was no doubt a man who loved and could well afford the finest things in life.
The gem of the exhibit was “The Beauty of Xiaohe,” a well-preserved mummy of a Caucasian woman, serenely at rest through the centuries in her boat-shaped coffin, wrapped in a wool coat, fur boots on her feet, her brown hair showing from beneath the rounded brim of her fur hat, lashes fringing her sunken eyes, every inch of her a marvel preserved by the desert sands.
As I contemplated each artifact of the ancient past, those colorful silk brocades and damasks imprinted with elegant floral designs, a pair of shoes made for a girl, cream yellow with tiny writing woven in a delicate arabesque bestowing blessings on the wearer, horse blankets of ornately worked wool, meticulously decorated game boxes, gold jewelry embedded with rubies, agates, and lapis lazuli, I imagined the hands that might have held these things at one time, the voices that might have spoken of them in the extinct Tocharian language of the Tarim Basin people, and I considered the importance we now give to these artifacts, the ordinary objects of daily life long ago because they connect us in an unbroken thread of lives lived through time.
Among the treasures on display was a suit made as a gift for a Sogdian merchant’s young grandson, described by Susan Whitfield in “Life Along the Silk Road,” as being “a traditional Sogdian suit…a short jacket with narrow sleeves, a mandarin collar and front, central fastenings, flared slightly from the waist. The outer silk woven in blue, yellow, green, red and white with a pattern of paired facing ducks inside roundels, a typical Sogdian pattern, and a brown Chinese damask with a large-scale floral pattern for the jacket lining and trousers.” The merchant also ordered a pair of matching boots. Imagine his grandson’s delight when Grandfather returned home from his long journey bearing such finery.
I was touched by the mummy of the baby, gauged to be less than ten months old, swaddled in wool tied with red and blue cords, small flat blue stones over his eyes, and buried with a baby bottle made of a goat’s bladder. There was a fabulous gold mask of a man’s face rimmed with rubies, and excavated from the tomb of a noble couple was a figurine of a lovely dancer made of wood, silk, and clay. Her arms were made from cancelled pawn tickets. Old papers were often recycled as material for burial objects. One item that I found quite intriguing was a pair of delicately pierced eye covers, similar to sunglasses, used to shield the eyes of the dead.
There was food. Yes there was, preserved as if freeze-dried. The harsh cold of the Taklamakan Desert in winter and the heat and aridity of its summers had perfectly dehydrated pale pastries, tiny purse-sized dumplings and braided fried dough twists.
The Bowers Museum organized and debuted the Secrets of the Silk Road Exhibition, the historic, landmark tour of the artifacts from the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region encompassing the Tarim Basin in the vast northwestern reaches of China. From the Bowers Museum the exhibition traveled to the Houston Museum of Natural History and then to Philadelphia’s Penn Museum where the tour ended, and the exhibition’s artifacts returned home to China.
Some people see museums as boring places, warehouses for the collection of things from the past, things that might’ve been junk in its own time, dead things, dust catchers, mildly interesting perhaps but having no relevancy to our times. Museums preserve the living past, exhibits like the Secrets of the Silk Road Exhibition show us that life is eternal in its way, the artifacts of the past resonate with life and symbolize that old saying “Life goes on.” Indeed it does. Past and future meld in the present. Museums are not simply warehouses of things from the past, preserving the dead and what used to be, they are gateways through time, bringing the past to the present. To visit the Secrets of the Silk Road Exhibition was a spiritual journey into the vast country of past lives.
If You Go:
Bowers Museum, 2002 North Main Street
Santa Ana, CA 92706
Tel: (714) 567-3600
About the author:
Debra Young lives and writes in Long Beach, California, grew up traveling in Europe and the US, and has obsessive interests in ancient history, art, and literature. She’s published fiction and non-fiction, and invites you to visit her at her blog Pendrifter at dayya.wordpress.com.
Image credits:
Desert camel caravan: by pixelRaw from Pixabay
Zhang Qian: Unknown author / Public domain
Tang dynasty city film and television base: Sherbet / CC BY
The Columbian Star is number one on the trail and is the most impressive place on the tour, the Rhea County Courthouse at 1475 Market Street. The Courthouse was built in 1891 and designated as a National Historic Landmark in 1977. Still operated as a courthouse, it also houses the Scopes Trial and Rhea Heritage Museums with exhibits, photos, and news clippings of the famous trial. Dayton won its place in history when William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow argued the question of evolution and creation in the Scopes Evolution Trial which took place at the courthouse in July 1925. We’ve all heard about the trial and may have seen the movie, “Inherit the Wind,” that was made about it, therefore, it is interesting to tour the museum and think about that hot summer many years ago and the debate about the origin of man which continues even today.
The second star on the tour is at 1435 Market Street. It was the second location of Robinson Drugstore. Built in the early 1900’s, it is currently home to The Gathering Place, appropriately named, as Robinson’s being a favorite gathering place for local citizens in the 1920’s seems to have been key to the whole Scopes trial. The Gathering Place is now an antique and gift store.
The strawberry is far from Rhea County’s top crop, but the Dayton festival has preserved its heritage as the place for strawberries. Most of the berries for the event are furnished by Tidwell’s Berry Farm, the only large scale berry farm in the county. According to a Herald-News story, Ray Tidwell started his tiny farm near Spring City in 1983 growing corn and soybeans, but the farm flopped. An agriculture extension agent suggested he grow strawberries. At the time, there were only three acres of berries growing in the county. Doubting it would work, Tidwell gambled on the berries and it paid off. He now harvests 16 acres, each yielding about 20,000 pounds of strawberries. Tidwell doesn’t ship his berries across the country, but has turned his name into a popular regional brand. About 80 percent of his crop is sold from a shed at the farm on Hwy. 27, about 14 miles north of Dayton. If you can’t make it to the festival, you can still drive to Dayton during strawberry season to follow the town’s history with the Appalachian Quilt Block Stars and stop at Tidwell’s to buy fresh strawberries on your way home.
Before my flight and subsequent drive to Door County, I admittedly didn’t know much about the area. Upon arrival, I quickly learn that a dozen tiny, charming towns populate the county, that’s located just 45 miles northeast of Green Bay. The area received its name from the French, when it was dubbed Porte de Mortes (or “Door to Death”), because of the treacherous strait between the peninsula and the islands off its northern end, which today is the resting place of countless sunken ships. More recently acclaimed as the Cape Cod of the Midwest, in warmer months it’s a go-to destination for golfers the world over as there are 11 gorgeous courses to choose from. Door County also boasts multiple white sand beaches that line Lake Michigan for tourists to laze about on, while in the winter, ski hills, cross-country trails, hiking paths and ice-fishing huts make it the perfect getaway with nary a billboard or chain store in sight. And let’s not forget the cherries.
To be clear, the versions found in Door County orchards aren’t the run-of-the-mill variety. Here the Montmorency red tart cherry reigns supreme, and in Country Ovens, a family-owned and operated business established in 1987, they’re utilized in every form imaginable – from cherry salsa, cherry fudge and cherry BBQ sauce to cherry wine, cherry jam and cherry ketchup. The area prides itself on its cherry orchards, and has since the early 19th century. Ideal growing conditions make it the perfect environment for the fruit to sprout, and with approximately 2,200 acres of cherry orchard fields, approximately 12 million pounds of them are produced each year.
With my sweet tooth satisfied, I make my way to the Harbor Fish Market and Grille in Bailey’s Harbor for dinner. Known as a hot spot for in-the-know vacationers, I quickly see why the restaurant has such acclaim after I inhale my spectacular five-course meal. I then waddle back to the car and head to The White Lace Inn in Sturgeon Bay, my not-so-humble abode for the next two days. The bed-and-breakfast Main House is a beautifully restored 1880s Victorian home that’s gorgeous inside and out, which becomes all the more apparent when the owner, who took ownership of the property in 1982, shows me to my room in Hadley House – one of the four homes that comprise the inn. There, an enormous room, laden with perfectly-preserved antiques, two roaring fireplaces, heated floors and a whirlpool big enough to sleep in awaits. I happily settle in and call it a night.
No trip to Door County would be complete without taking in a fish boil, so I visit the White Gull Inn in Fish Creek – built in 1896 by a German-born doctor who established it and many surrounding buildings with the style of European health spas in mind – for an experience only available here. When I arrive, people are already gathered around the boiling spot where they’re waiting for the boil master to weave a yarn about the 100-year-old tradition of boiling white fish and potatoes over an open fire, which began when lumberjacks and fishermen adopted it as an economical way to feed themselves and their families. After roughly 15 minutes of the historical run-through, the boil master douses the fire with kerosene, causing the water and oil from the fish to boil over. After the spectators make way for him to head indoors with dinner, we pile into the restaurant for our own plateful of white fish, potatoes, coleslaw and – what else? – Door County cherry pie for dessert.
Present day lodge amenities, from chalets to rooms to fine dining and soothing pools, did not disappoint. A serene wilderness surrounds this warm luxury like a single heavenly star. Heavens, free of city glare, as clear as nature created them.
A winding dirt track led sharply down to the dancing Lussier River where rustic boulder-framed pools were awash with bathers. German and French accents wafted upwards as people of all ages scrambled about and lounged in the gravel-bottomed pools. The hot pool stood around 105 degrees as we eased in. Personal sized nooks and crannies housed singular soakers. Friendly chatter warbled like a flock of song birds. Lussier is unlike its more developed kin, a little harder to get to, a lot closer to the wilderness and thus its unique attraction. A bit of adventure increased its allure.
Fairmont’s hot springs fame has seeped through time with singular acclaim as the Smoking Waters of First Nations legend. On a hill overlooking the pools at the lodge, natural hot waters seep and stream over a calcified knoll, its sulphurous aroma wafting close to the ground and housing a few warm, bathtub-size pools carved within for those inclined to experience a more natural setting. A series of stone rooms with bathtub pools recall the early years of commercial exploitation.
When I visited, I headed first to The Museum Center at Five Points, a regional history museum with exhibitions, a store, and programs related to the history of Cleveland, Bradley County, and the Ocoee Region of Tennessee. The museum is located at 200 Inman Street East. The core exhibition uses the theme, River of Time, to trace the history of the area. This theme signifies the importance of the Ocoee, Hiwassee and Tennessee Rivers to the region.
Glass etchings in the lobby depict visual images of living history characters that visitors may watch on videos while walking through the displays. These characters introduce seven time periods, from Coming to the Land (Prehistory-1804) thru Paths to the Future (1979-Present,) while artifacts represent the different times. A real wagon that came to Bradley County with settlers in 1839 can be seen as well as a kayak from the 1996 Olympic Canoe and Kayak Competition on the Ocoee River. There are also hands-on stations throughout for kids to enjoy.
The Cleveland Public Library is housed in a home built in 1883. Originally about two-thirds the size of the present residence, the house was bricked and remodeled in 1940. In 1987, it became the library. A 5000-square-foot expansion began in 2001. Next door is the Carmichael Library Addition, another historic home recently donated to the library.
