GRAVEYARDS evoke very different feelings in Chinese and Western minds.

Except during the annual Qingming Festival - when one sweeps the tombs of the deceased - cemeteries are to be feared and avoided.

At a Chinese funeral, one expects extreme manifestations of grief on the part of the mourners, especially the bereft family.

Westerners appear to exercise much more restraint on such occasions.

A Christian vision of the afterlife and resurrection tends to cast death in a less tragic and absolute light.

Thus, when I saw a cemetery next to the Trinity Church in lower Manhattan, with tourists around - some even taking gravestone rubbings - I was struck by some cultural differences.

Given the awe and respect we feel for our ancestors, some Westerners believe that the Chinese have a religion-like worship of their ancestors.

We are quickly growing out of our dread of the dead.

As three decades of hectic growth have already eradicated most physical traces that might suggest our distant past in this world, a breed of more enterprising Chinese are directing their attention to the nether world.

They are evincing surging interests in the remains of their ancestors, or more accurately, the valuable artifacts that might be found in their ancient tombs.

Some of them have rested in peace for thousands of years, and it is time they be resurrected and pressed into service of our GDP.

Such underworld resources particularly favor such economically backwater areas in Shaanxi and Henan provinces, where the Chinese civilization originated.

Archeologists usually dig tombs to salvage them from construction projects, or grave robbers, in an effort dignified as "protective excavation."

Some digs are conducted simply in the name of science ("to know").

In the 1950s this curiosity to know had a revolutionary flavor.

At the instigation of some revolutionary scholars, notable among them poet and archeologist Guo Moruo, approval was given in the 1950s to the excavation of Dingling, the mausoleum of Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) Emperor Wan Li and his two wives.

Their remains were placed in replicated coffins, while the original coffins were dumped in a valley.

During the "cultural revolution" (1966-1976) these royal remains were first exhibited in a square where they were harshly condemned, then stoned, and then burned by the Red Guards.

A Western journalist wrote after visiting Dingling in the late 1970s that it "rivals a pharaoh's tomb in ostentation," with urns of "everlasting lamps," lavish burial chamber, sealed by massive stone slabs that were, alas, no match for bulldozers and modern earth moving equipment of destruction.

In the 1960s Guo lobbied for the excavation of another royal mausoleum, without success. But Guo has no lack of contemporary followers.

On June 12, CCTV conducted a three hour live television broadcast of the excavation of a site in Henan Province - wild speculation suggests it's the mausoleum of Cao Cao, one of the best known politicians and generals in the Three Kingdoms period (AD 220-280).

The enterprise was undertaken by the Chinese Academy of Cultural Heritage.

To archeologists' disappointment, grave robbers patronizing the site long ago had effectively cleared the tomb of nearly all its valuables.

While some archeologists strongly object to identifying the tomb as Cao Cao's, a plan is already afoot to make the site into a tourist attraction. There's also a big national DNA project going on.

Conspiracy

Archeological findings, astronomical prices at auction houses, numerous TV programs on connoisseurship of curiosities, and easy money conspire to rapidly expand an "art" market.

A couple years ago some suspected this passion for relics to be a bubble, but many people now believe it is real. Perhaps so many of the crass acquisitions of the new rich bear the unmistakable odor of poor taste that they need to be perfumed by ancient relics sanctified by thousand of years of culture.

About 15 years ago when I was told that archeology graduates were living in style by monetizing their expertise, I took it with a grain of salt.

But as I was preparing this article, I was informed of a forum "heralding the arrival of the '100 million yuan (US$15 million) era' in art collection," to be held tomorrow in our office building.

As a matter of fact, we Chinese are tired of being constantly informed that we are at the start of something big.

This May at Beijing-based Poly International Auction's spring sale, a guqin, (an ancient zither-like instrument, or in this case a piece of wood) believed to be from the Jin Dynasty (265-420 AD) fetched a price of 19 million yuan.

Last year a Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) lacquered guqin was sold for 21.84 million yuan at Guardian auctions.

These prices first tested the limits of human imagination, and are now testing the physical stamina and resourcefulness of archeologists, and those shady excavators who prefer to ply their trade at night.

Grave lessons

Grave robbery is an ancient trade, or art, and modern archeologists do not conceal that they learned their art of digging from grave plunderers.

For instance, the "Luoyang spade," an essential instrument for archeologists to detect and locate underground tombs, was first invented by grave robbers.

Such implements are now openly marketed on the streets of Luoyang, Henan Province.

Around nine in every 10 tombs around this ancient area of Luoyang - capital of nine dynasties - has already been looted.

The first waves of robberies occurred in the 1920s and 1930s when chaos reigned in the absence of functioning government.

The second wave started in 1980s and lasts to this day.

Grave robbers today are so efficient that they can come up with virtually any desired artifacts on short orders.

Another driver behind this surging interest in art is China's own new rich who are seeking more tasteful, but no less spectacular ways to express their wealth.

Chinese mainland's billionaires are on a spending spree to buy art.

Each purchase fuels the demand for more excavations, whether conducted in broad daylight or darkness.

Death is a very sad occasion evoking the deepest sadness for Chinese, informed by our understanding of life in all its tragic aspects and our connections to our ancestors.

Thus nearly all dynasties prohibited excavating of the mausoleums of previous dynasties that have been overthrown - plunder was sometimes punishable by death.

How can we discourage the greedy (sometimes pretending to be just curious) from laying their hands on the remains of our ancestors?