5: Dial M for Mutton
KASHGAR, CHINA – 13 June, 2002
One of the ladies in my cabin on the train to Kashgar was a Chinese local living in Kashgar. As we prepared to get off the train, I enquired about the taxi fare to town, so that I would not be ripped off. This, somehow, spurred her to perform her duty of a local extending her hospitality to a foreign tourist. She said we could go to her nursery (she imported and exported plants and in fact, had had four plants with her on this train-ride) together and then, she would buy me lunch and get me settled down in my hotel. “OK, thank you, Liang Dan.” I accepted graciously.
Indeed all the above was done with a lot of attention and extreme generosity and I was really touched by her actions. Very sweet girl.
After I got settled down and did some laundry, I decided to head out for a quick walk around Kashgar. As I descended down the steps, a Chinese man was shouting to the room attendants nearby, “I want to find a guest in this hotel. She is from Singapore.” He paused to examine me. “Are you the one?!?!”
Hang on, what’s going on? Well, it turned out Liang Dan had mentioned me to her brother and now, her brother, who apparently had heard ‘what a wonderful country Singapore was’, wanted to extend his hospitality to me too. So, Liang Dan and her brother returned to my hotel to try and track me down.
They set me down at the lobby and her brother proceeded to criticise the hotel’s condition and boasted he could get me to stay at his friend’s hotel (which normally cost Y100+) for free.
The hotel I was staying in seemed to be Uyghur-run as many of the staff were Uyghurs. And in a way, it was an affront to them to have an Uyghur hotel criticised so openly by a Han Chinese man, within their ear-shot. I felt very embarrassed. Although I tried my best to thank him for his kindness and that it was unnecessary for me to stay in a fancy hotel, he refused to listen to a word from me and stated I would check out tomorrow and stay at his friend’s hotel. He proceeded to inform that his friend was buying them dinner and I was to join them as I was now their guest.
So, that was how I found myself in a Chinese hotel on the outskirts of town, staring at a set Western dinner (beef steak, soup, bread and everything) plus heaps of food ordered from the Chinese menu.
I was still having a little diarrhoea problem but they would not listen to my feeble protests against eating any of the oily food and insisted I eat them to give them ‘face’. Later, I was also made to drink a shot of the local Chinese whiskey even though I did not know how to drink and did not think it wise to drink with my weak stomach condition. Nope, Liang Dan’s brother would have none of it.
He then informed the Hotel Guy to get a room ready for me and my Irish friend tomorrow. The Hotel Guy paused for a long time before nodding his head in agreement. Oh no, the Hotel Guy was unwilling to do this. Now, I felt even worse.
I was finally released back to my hotel by midnight, after making me promise to call Liang Dan’s brother on Saturday so that he could take me out on a tour.
I felt terrible. They were trying to make me comfortable and happy with my stay here in Kashgar. They did not want money or anything. They were just being generous and thoughtful in their ways. But this was not what we wanted. We did not want to be in the outlying area of Kashgar in a fancy Chinese hotel with a Western Cafe and the Imperial Restaurant.
But, there was the problem of the ‘not giving them face’ if I rejected all their generous offers.
KASHGAR, CHINA – 14 June, 2002
I gave a call to Liang Dan and explained that my Irish friend Jane and I travelled so far out into the Kashgar area to be in the middle of, we hope, the Uyghur culture – eating shish kebabs, smelling the mutton body odour, seeing the wonderful variety of exotic faces, head-gears and dresses and wandering in the bazaars. She understood it and I thanked her profusely again. I was once again reminded to call her brother on Saturday for the ‘tour’. Ooook, I guess I couldn’t reject that.
Throw all your romantic notions away! Kashgar was no longer the exotic remote oasis, which had been a major trading post of the Silk Road for thousands of years. It is 2002 now, after all. One would be SILLY to expect the same rustic charm as 2000 years ago. We learnt our lessons in Turpan by setting high expectations for it and then, feeling a tad disappointed about it. So, before we came, we aimed really low.
True enough, there were spiffy roads, a Mao statue, new shopping malls and Oriental-looking bridges in front of the Ren Min (People’s) Park. But once in the Uyghur areas, the whole place was a labyrinth of twisting alleys and mud huts, interspersed by bazaars and mosques.
Jane and I simply wandered round the main Id Kah Mosque and the bazaars by the two sides of the mosque and across the road. It was a wonderful experience. The faces we saw here were as diverse as those in Turpan and the bazaars here were busier and more interesting.
Shish kebabs were huge, chunky affairs and delicious! The way to stomach it without feeling too queasy or gross about the fat was to accompany the kebabs with the local Uyghur tea. I love them.
I had three sticks of kebabs and a bowl of noodle. The locals were gobbling them up like 10 sticks each. A bevy of ‘babushkas’ – Uyghur middle-aged ladies and grannies came and sat next to me. Some sat with one of their legs up on the seat, exposing their underpants. Soon, they were served a mountain-load of shish-kebabs and gnawing away at them in no time.
With the mutton intake came the ‘aromatic’ body odour among the locals. Sometimes, I could still smell an Uyghur lady three minutes after she left the toilet, for example. Well, what you eat is what you smell. In the Tibetan part of China, I smelled yak butter among the monks. And here, I smelled barbecued mutton. Why not?
KASHGAR, CHINA – 15 June, 2002
I knew it was Saturday and that I ought to call Liang Dan or her brother but I decided to procrastinate as late as possible.
Spent the day wandering among the alleyways in the Uyghur area, getting lost in the labyrinthine area. I enjoyed it very much. The children were all delightful and seemed more precocious than the Tibetan children and definitely more so than the Han Chinese children. In the Tibetan part of China, when the children asked for photos, all the boys would pose excitedly but the girls would stand away. The girls needed more persuasion before they shyly agreed. But here, the girls, many dressed in frou-frou lacy dresses and looked like wedding cakes, had had their hair shaved (maybe due to head lice?) and were fighting with boys and for more pictures. Also, strangely, these girls had a kick about tiaras too. They would wear tiaras on their heads proudly and march to school.
While they were mostly Muslims, there were many interesting varieties in their dressing too. The ‘babushkas’ with the see-through head-scarves were plentiful. There was a larger number of women who covered their whole head and face with a brown cloth. Some wrapped their nose and mouth with a white scarf and wore dark sun-glasses. They looked like they participated in the Invisible Man Project. Many ladies and some girls also had drawn a line across their eye-brows connecting them. It was wonderful to observe such varieties.
I did call Liang Dan in the evening and well, she said she and her brother were too busy with their work today and couldn’t meet me. I know this made me look like a really bad person but I actually felt quite relieved. Liang Dan was sweet but her brother was difficult.
By night-fall, the area around Id Kah Mosque was transformed into a food market, selling boiled goat’s heads and innards, spicy chicken and eggs, chickpeas and some deep-fried sweet desserts. It was colourful and extremely busy. Jane and I sampled different dishes that looked swallowable, i.e. we did not try the goat’s head and innards.
An Uyghur elderly man found us interesting and chatted with us, in Mandarin. Soon, we were surrounded by a group of at least seven people who appraised us seriously, knitted their eye-brows and made several inquiries and clarifications with the Uyghur elderly man who translated into Uyghur our replies. We felt like zoo animals but they were friendly and just curious.
KASHGAR, CHINA – 16 June, 2002
Kashgar was now famous for its Sunday Bazaar. The population could swell up to 50,000 as villagers from the surrounding region came to buy and sell. According to a local, today’s bazaar was the quietest in a long time. It was the harvest time now, apparently.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed the day tremendously doing what I liked best – people-watching.
This was a fantastically huge market. Farming forks, melons, yoghurt drink, apricots, hats, cloth materials, dried fruits and nuts, house-hold items, bicycle-repair parts, etc… everything that could be sold was sold. The main covered market was huge and confusing, although similar items were indeed organised to be sold at their special sections. I got lost many times – which was great.
Outside the market was just as chaotic. Barbers had set up stalls by the side. These Uyghur men, who had apparently worn their skull caps all their lives and now removed them for the barbers, actually had fair skin where the hats used to be. The contrast was incredible. They too received a good facial massage after their shave or cut. I saw old, worn shoes being sold as well. Many came to try on the least disgusting looking pairs. Donkey carts shoved past you as the owners ferried sheep, fruits, their families across the market. It was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I really enjoyed myself here.
The weather was very hot and I stopped frequently for home-made vanilla ice-cream and yoghurt drink. People always warned about avoiding food items with ice and glasses which were not washed after each use, because of the questionable hygiene. Jane was very careful about this. But, NOT to eat the vanilla ice-cream and yoghurt drink was NOT to get into the Uyghur action. They were sold everywhere and eaten by everyone. And I loved them too.
KASHGAR to LAKE KARAKUL, CHINA – 17 June, 2002
Jane and I bade farewell. Our trip together had finally come to an end. She was heading back to Urumqi this evening as she had a flight to Xi’an the next evening. And I had decided to go to Lake Karakul which was about three-quarters of the way from Kashgar to Tashkurgan (which was the last town towards Pakistan on China’s side).
This route would be part of the famous Karakoram Highway from Islamabad in Pakistan, across the Khunjerab Pass to Kashgar. The scenery, we had heard, was supposed to be amazing.
Sitting on the right side of the bus, I had fantastic view most of the time. However, the road was very bad. Many sections had caved in and the bus-driver had to keep steering the bus onto the rocky section, in order to bypass the road. The trip, as a result, took a longer time than it should be.
After seven hours of rather harsh travelling, a lady next to me indicated this was Lake Karakul and we (a few other tourists and I) had to shout to the driver several times before he stopped for us.
At first glance, I did not think Lake Karakul was worth the effort to come out here specifically. OK, the weather was very cloudy today and spoiled the view, I supposed. With good lighting, the lake could be beautiful. But the people managing the lake had added barbed wires which looked pretty useless to ward off anything, around the lake and there were even ten dilapidated pool-tables next to the lake. The one or two shops here were in ugly tin cans.
They had not only come and destroyed the view, they were the most unfriendly hosts I had encountered in a long time. We tried to negotiate for a cheaper price for the yurt but were unsuccessful. OK, we had no other choices. But after we paid, they simply left us there. It felt as if they knew they had had us. Where else could we go?
Before we went for a walk, we inquired about the price for food here. Everything was really expensive. Rice was Y5 (usual, Y1). Veggies was Y10 (usual, Y3-6). Meat was Y20 and above (usual, Y6 and above). Fried rice was Y15 (usual, Y3-5). Once again, we knew we had no choice.
However, by the time we were hungry and tried to order food, they now informed us – Veggies was Y20 and meat was Y40 and above. This was ridiculous. I argued with them that this was really unfair as how could the price increase in the last 2 hours? Instead of negotiating for a compromise, they simply retorted, “Who told you the price earlier? Who told you?!?!?!”
We were all very cross and the people I was with – Andie from Wales, June from Singapore and Sin Hai from Japan decided to flee the lake first thing tomorrow morning. I did not eat anything that night.
LAKE KARAKUL to KASHGAR, CHINA – 18 June, 2002
With excellent blue sky the next morning, I decided to give Lake Karakul another chance. After we packed, June and Sin Hai headed out to the highway to try and hitch a ride at once. Andie wanted to sit by the lake and I decided to walk along the lake towards Tashkurgan and see if I could hitch a ride to Tashkurgan when things got boring.
Yes, now, away from the negative energy at the main yurt area, I felt very at peace and found the lake indeed to be gorgeous.
I passed by a Kyrgyz village after an hour’s walk. A family beckoned me over. The guys here wore hats that were new to me. They were made of felt, were white with black embroidery and pretty tall. Even a baby with no underwear was wearing a small version. I sat with the family, gesturing to the mothers that their babies were very cute. The brother of the two ladies could speak Mandarin and provided translation for us. After a while, they invited me in for some naan and yoghurt.
I proceeded on my trek in the direction of Tashkurgan. For a long time, there were no vehicles going towards Tashkurgan. Most vehicles were towards Kashgar. I started to wonder if I ought to try and return to Kashgar instead. I rounded a bend and fought hard against the strong head-wind that nearly tossed me in the air. I had to return back around the bend to avoid the wind. So, now I could not walk further towards Tashkurgan anymore.
At 11:30am, I recalled that the daily bus from Tashkurgan to Kashgar would pass by here around noon and decided to forget about Tashkurgan and head back to Kashgar. I crossed the road and waited for 30 seconds before the daily bus came by. How lucky I was!
KASHGAR, CHINA – 19 June, 2002
Well, today would be a rest-day for me. I simply headed to the Ren Min Park, discovered it required entrance fee as usual, refused to pay for it and and sat outside the park under the shade to update my journal.
Ali, who worked at the travel agency at my hotel, cycled by, recognised me and stopped. We chatted for a while and he suggested I visit the Abakh Hoja Tomb or Fragrant Concubine Tomb which contained 58 tombs or coffins from the Uyghur family of Abakh Hoja. The story was that a grand-daughter of Abakh Hoja was called Fragrant Maid because she had legendary body aroma. She was so beautiful and aromatic, she later became the concubine of Emperor Qian Long, hence, the alternative name of the tomb. This became a famous Uyghur-Han Chinese union. Well, now, I know how aromatic her body odour was…
KASHGAR to URUMQI, CHINA – 20 June, 2002
I had travelled from Urumqi to Kashgar on the luxurious express train. On realising there was a regular train for half the price but with a travel time longer by six hours, I took it for my return trip to Urumqi. I mean, there was not much difference if the train ride was 30 hours, compared to 24 hours… I just had to sleep longer. But the money sure made a difference. Well, good bye, shish kebabs…
Nothing eventful happened. As usual, when the attendants or police or fellow train commuters realised I was from foreign lands, I was subjected to their vigorous interrogations and queries. They would always ask how much I earned. After my reply, the scene would turn ugly as they lambasted their poverty, their jobs, their government, etc… It was quite embarrassing.
A train attendant appraised me carefully and asked, “So, if I marry you, can I enter Singapore?” Err…..
URUMQI, CHINA – 21 June, 2002
When we arrived in Urumqi, just before I got off the train, the train attendant from yesterday looked at me funny again. I feared he would really propose! But he didn’t. Phew…. Or perhaps, I just lost my last chance for happiness, you think?
I changed my travel plans and decided to go straight to Beijing on a marathon 48-hour train ride and skip all the places in between. I had quite a bit of administrative stuff to do in Beijing before I was to leave for Mongolia.
URUMQI to BEIJING, CHINA – 22 June, 2002
Slept. Snacked. Stared at window. Read. Relieved myself. Slept some more. Was found out to be a foreigner by now. Fielded interrogations. Ate dinner. Drank orange juice.
URUMQI to BEIJING, CHINA – 23 June, 2002
Brushed teeth. Stared at window. Hopped down to the platform for a stretch. Read. Slept again. Ate apricots. Handled more interrogations.
“So, will you RETURN to China?” my fellow travel-mate drilled at me.
“Return? No.” I replied.
“WHY NOT?!?! YOU HAVE CHINESE BLOOD FLOWING IN YOU!!!!” he turned red.
Ooops. Interrogations had gone awry. Slithered away to sleep again. Beijing Beijing Beijing…
