Life, seasoned with perspective
A whirlwind final adventure through Xi’an blends ancient wonders, modern surprises and unforgettable cultural moments—from the breathtaking Terracotta Army to the lively streets and flavours of the city.
The original list of the seven wonders of the world includes marvels like the Great Wall of China, the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt and the Statue of Zeus at Olympia.
These were celebrated centuries ago as masterpieces of human creativity. Many new lists have emerged over time, but today I want to talk about what is widely considered one of the unofficial eighth wonders of the world, and what it felt like to stand right in front of it.
Before we get there, let me paint a picture of Xi’an. It is considered a second-tier city in China, but if this is second-tier, then the rest of the world needs to step up. Formerly known as Chang’an, Xi’an carries over three thousand years of history and is the capital of Shaanxi Province. It is stunning: clean streets, ancient architecture sitting next to futuristic skylines, polite crowds and a sense of calm that cities rarely have.
Thanks to TikTok, I even knew about the robot that delivers room service. On my last day, I walked out of my room and spotted it cruising by, looking like a tiny robot buddy doing its rounds. If I had not seen it online before, I would probably have screamed.
This was the morning after the intense Global South Media Conference, so we were all grateful for a change of pace. Despite the rain, delegates gathered in the hotel lobby, ready for our trip to the Terracotta Army Museum. Heavy jackets, scarves, umbrellas, everything was out. We quickly boarded the buses and rolled out of the Xi’an International Convention Centre Hotel.
The streets were calm. No traffic. Proper parking. Everyone obeyed traffic rules without drama. If it were not for the Chinese characters on the signboards, we could easily have been in a modern European city.
The hour-long drive was surprisingly peaceful. I kept wondering how a country with a population of more than one billion people could feel this orderly. Clean roads, organised pedestrian crossings and a blend of natural scenery and modern structures. Soon enough, downtown faded, and rural stretches appeared, signalling our arrival at the museum.
Nothing prepares you for the crowd at the Terracotta Army Museum. It is wild, waves of people in every direction. The most fascinating thing is that the majority of visitors are Chinese, domestic tourism at its finest. Luckily, everything had been arranged in advance, so we bypassed the long queues, picked up translation audio sets and joined our group. The only way to stay together was to follow the guide holding a flag above the crowd like a lighthouse.
Then came the moment that stops every visitor in their tracks.
In 1974, farmers digging a well in the area where the museum now stands stumbled upon life-size clay soldiers. Not a handful. Not a few dozen. Around eight thousand statues. Alongside them were chariots and horses. All of them crafted about two thousand two hundred years ago to guard Emperor Qin Shi Huang in the afterlife.
Think about that for a moment. Thousands of hand-carved soldiers, each with a unique facial expression. No two are alike. All arranged in military formation. All buried underground for more than two millennia.
Construction of the museum began in 1975. Rebuilding and restoring the site has involved around seven hundred thousand labourers over about forty years, and the work is still ongoing. The soldiers all face east, the direction from which the emperor believed his enemies would come.
Walking through the museum feels like stepping into a history book that suddenly came alive. The energy is electric. People gasp. Cameras click nonstop. The scale is overwhelming in the best possible way.
And the Chinese people are incredibly warm. I lost count of how many times someone asked to take a photo with me. What I appreciated most was their curiosity. They ask real questions, laugh easily and look for genuine connections.
Another surprise was the number of media interviews I had to squeeze in. I am usually on the interviewer’s side of the camera, so being the one answering questions felt a little unusual. But it was fun, a full day well spent at the museum.
Once the history and cameras were behind us, it was time to eat. And let me tell you, Chinese cuisine delivers. Instantly. I spent most meals with two people I had clicked with at the conference: Morris Mkwate from Zimpapers TV Network in Zimbabwe and Abbey Makoe, a media owner from South Africa.
The duck was unforgettable, with a soft, rich taste that helps you understand why it carries so much cultural symbolism around love and harmony. Then there is rice, prepared in ways that burst with flavour instead of the plain version we are used to at home. I know you are waiting for me to talk about snakes and other daring delicacies, but I did not get the chance. Knowing myself, I would have tried them without a second thought. After all, I have already conquered snails in South Africa.
Looking back, my journey through China was one of discovery, culture, friendship and deep appreciation for a country that balances modern power with ancient soul. It is an experience I carry with me and one I hope to repeat someday.
China has a way of surprising you even when you expect to be surprised. And that is the true wonder.
About the author
Kibisu Mulanda is a media executive and strategic communicator with over 20 years of experience in digital and television content, NGO storytelling and youth-focused programming. He is the Acting Head of Switch Media Ltd and teaches media at the Kenya Institute of Mass Communication (KIMC). A Certified SIYB Trainer, he blends storytelling with strategy to drive social impact.
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