On TV I saw weathered face men in Muslim garbs trading sheep and goats out and about an open air bazaar.
“Aladdin” came to mind. And this
was in China? On TV I saw the Chinese
government hot on stopping anyone slightly suspicious, and face recognition
cameras captured everyone’s every move. The tour itinerary showed a drive
cutting across the Taklimakan, that massive desert smacked in the middle of
Xinjiang. Gotta go!
On the flight from
Shanghai to Urumqi, a Uyghur woman asked if I would exchange my aisle seat
for her window seat. “Yes,” I was more than eager. Down below were ever changing monochromatic
latte colored earth bodies with ridges, veins and vessels. Earth was
alive and organic, graphically similar to the innards of animals and
plants. Feast for the eyes!
Urumqi’s Hongfu Hotel on
Wuyi (May 1 ) Road was perfect for tourists to access food, stores,
and buses. It was a 30-minute walk to the “Starlight Night Market,” which
began at 8pm. Urumqi was 2 hours west of
Beijing, so technically 8pm was 6pm, but all of China adopted the same time
zone to more conveniently conduct business across the country. Asians
love night markets. There, cravings for
food and human interaction were met; Oktoberfest every night! The stalls sold many alluring treats, from
kebab to ice cream, noodles, even snail.
Entrance was checked, and as anywhere in Xinjiang, there was police presence.
As such, visitors should have no worries but eat drink and be merry. I
aimed my camera at a youthful party.
They asked and I answered I was from the U.S. A young fella came over to hug me, and then a
young girl too. I wanted to buy them more
beer, but I didn’t know how to pay by cell phone.
Kashgar is Xinjiang’s western-most
province neighboring Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Along with China’s
resurrection, I saw major public works done and in progress: tree-lined streets and stone paved walkways,
plenty of overhead bridge highways, landscaped parks, and stacks of generic
residential buildings and shopping complexes. I also saw newer
constructions already looked dated and vacant.
Money was poured in to prepare Kashgar’s future, and significantly
sponsored by City of Shenzhen, according to roadside posts. Perhaps Shenzhen’s own success have reached a
threshold and needed to expand labor and land; it would be win-win for
developing business and upgrading slower provinces. On the other hand, ethnic
Kashgarians (Uyghurs, Kazakhs) did not seem too enthusiastic. A people’s cultural identity is utmost
sacred; never mind folks prefer living in crumbling adobe huts and toileting in
fly infested holes. Across the street
from the recreated “Old Town Kashgar” of nice shops and homes was the historical
remnants of the old citadel. Forcing change is a thin line between
“invasion” and “improvement.” Xinjiang had been China’s sovereign land, other than
crushing any coup
d'état attempts, it seemed that the Chinese
government did not interfere with Xinjiang people’s traditions per se.
Kashgar’s Sunday animal trading bazaar was like that of a hundred years
ago. Women, men, and children donning
Xinjiang Muslim clothing were seen proud and beautiful everywhere. Naan
bread making was prolific in all neighborhoods.
So, the biggest contention was the destruction of mosques. Let us remember that communism is not big on any
religion. The Chinese government also tore down churches everywhere.
To feed, house, and keep 1,419,888,555
citizens safe into the future while battling ankle-biting forces in this internationally politically charged time may explain China’s tough government.
On way to China’s
Karakul Lake on top of the Pamir Mountains, the tour bus took China Pakistan’s
Friendship Highway 314 aka Karakoram Highway. At destination, the lake was
certainly beautiful, but I marveled more at the landscape en route.
Our
191km drive from Kashgar to Hoten supposedly takes 7-8 hours ended up more than
10. Our 600km drive from Minfeng to Kuqa crossing the Taklimakan Desert
was scheduled 10 hours took 17. Our driver explained that bus speed
allowance changed recently, from 80km/hour to 60km/hour. His driving was automatically monitored, whenever he over-sped, a “beep” alerted, and violations were tallied at traffic
authorities and at his bus company. On that Taklimakan stretch, another
issue was the 2 a.m. bus curfew that challenged our driver at 60km/hour
(37miles/hour). He couldn’t risk leaving
us parked overnight; we didn’t know how he did it, but we made it to the
hotel. Every vehicle was also at the
mercy of the wills and whims of each police checkpoint operation; there was a
check-point passing each town big or small, which took minutes to an hour or
longer. Our Kazakh tour guide knew ahead to show his and the driver’s
IDs, a list of our names, and the stack of our passports. A few times officers got on board to
photograph each of our faces and/or write down our U.S. phone numbers. A couple of times we got off the bus to walk
through the station’s scanner. One time our group of 12 was invited to get
processed inside the station’s office, apart from other passersby. The station was well staffed, but they were
either extra careful with us or they weren’t familiar with passports and visas;
we were there for an hour. A female officer served us water and
allowed us to use the station’s WC.
While in the office, I saw there were monitors instantly capturing and
identifying every occupant including children in every vehicle at the
checkpoint. Apparently checkpoints
didn’t share data, even though the same was processed at previous towns on the
same highway. Each station’s liability
was at stake, not a fly could go through unchecked (LOL).
Xinjiang
has spectacular canyons, deserts, grasslands, mountains, and lakes, but with
Tibet below, Mongolia above, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan left, and Mainland China
right, Xinjiang is nowhere near an ocean. Based on geography, I’m
surmising that Xinjiang people’s connection with the world is still through the
old silk roads and from China’s media.
In front of her family’s hut at the foothill of Hemu’s grassland, school
was out for May 1st Labor Day celebration, a teenage girl grilled lamb kebab
for 10RMB a stick. She asked me what America is like. Perhaps older folks prefer or has succumbed to
this grassland's simple and unhurried life, but unrest could fester in younger minds that may be vulnerable to extremist ideologies if they are not expose to other lives over the encompassing hills. A little boy rode his horse over and offered a ride for 50RMB. Human beings could get bored even in a utopia; that’s
why we must travel. I hope this young girl
and the little boy get to do so too. I
answered America is like Shanghai.
On the flight from
Shanghai to Urumqi, a Uyghur woman asked if I would exchange my aisle seat
for her window seat. “Yes,” I was more than eager. Down below were ever changing monochromatic
latte colored earth bodies with ridges, veins and vessels. Earth was
alive and organic, graphically similar to the innards of animals and
plants. Feast for the eyes!
Urumqi’s Hongfu Hotel on
Wuyi (May 1 ) Road was perfect for tourists to access food, stores,
and buses. It was a 30-minute walk to the “Starlight Night Market,” which
began at 8pm. Urumqi was 2 hours west of
Beijing, so technically 8pm was 6pm, but all of China adopted the same time
zone to more conveniently conduct business across the country. Asians
love night markets. There, cravings for
food and human interaction were met; Oktoberfest every night! The stalls sold many alluring treats, from
kebab to ice cream, noodles, even snail.
Entrance was checked, and as anywhere in Xinjiang, there was police presence.
As such, visitors should have no worries but eat drink and be merry. I
aimed my camera at a youthful party.
They asked and I answered I was from the U.S. A young fella came over to hug me, and then a
young girl too. I wanted to buy them more
beer, but I didn’t know how to pay by cell phone. 
Kashgar is Xinjiang’s western-most
province neighboring Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Along with China’s
resurrection, I saw major public works done and in progress: tree-lined streets and stone paved walkways,
plenty of overhead bridge highways, landscaped parks, and stacks of generic
residential buildings and shopping complexes. I also saw newer
constructions already looked dated and vacant.
Money was poured in to prepare Kashgar’s future, and significantly
sponsored by City of Shenzhen, according to roadside posts. Perhaps Shenzhen’s own success have reached a
threshold and needed to expand labor and land; it would be win-win for
developing business and upgrading slower provinces. On the other hand, ethnic
Kashgarians (Uyghurs, Kazakhs) did not seem too enthusiastic. A people’s cultural identity is utmost
sacred; never mind folks prefer living in crumbling adobe huts and toileting in
fly infested holes. Across the street
from the recreated “Old Town Kashgar” of nice shops and homes was the historical
remnants of the old citadel. Forcing change is a thin line between
“invasion” and “improvement.” Xinjiang had been China’s sovereign land, other than
crushing any coup
d'état attempts, it seemed that the Chinese
government did not interfere with Xinjiang people’s traditions per se.
Kashgar’s Sunday animal trading bazaar was like that of a hundred years
ago. Women, men, and children donning
Xinjiang Muslim clothing were seen proud and beautiful everywhere. Naan
bread making was prolific in all neighborhoods.
So, the biggest contention was the destruction of mosques. Let us remember that communism is not big on any
religion. The Chinese government also tore down churches everywhere.
To feed, house, and keep 1,419,888,555
citizens safe into the future while battling ankle-biting forces in this internationally politically charged time may explain China’s tough government. 
Xinjiang
has spectacular canyons, deserts, grasslands, mountains, and lakes, but with
Tibet below, Mongolia above, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan left, and Mainland China
right, Xinjiang is nowhere near an ocean. Based on geography, I’m
surmising that Xinjiang people’s connection with the world is still through the
old silk roads and from China’s media.
In front of her family’s hut at the foothill of Hemu’s grassland, school
was out for May 1st Labor Day celebration, a teenage girl grilled lamb kebab
for 10RMB a stick. She asked me what America is like. Perhaps older folks prefer or has succumbed to
this grassland's simple and unhurried life, but unrest could fester in younger minds that may be vulnerable to extremist ideologies if they are not expose to other lives over the encompassing hills. A little boy rode his horse over and offered a ride for 50RMB. Human beings could get bored even in a utopia; that’s
why we must travel. I hope this young girl
and the little boy get to do so too. I
answered America is like Shanghai. 
