When I was very young and the urge to be someplace was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure the itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever ad now that I am 58 perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked... In other words, I don't improve, in further words, once a bum always a bum. I fear the disease is uncurable.
-John Steinbeck

Kashgar and the Karakorum Highway

Where shall I start to describe my trip to Kashgar? I think I will start at the beginning. Not because it's particularly interesting, but because I had over an hour to wait for my train and scribble some notes.

I had left the house early, in anticipation of the unexpected. But, given the circumstances, I was well prepared for this trip. The first hurdle was the taxi, and I had 'train station' written out in both Chinese characters and pinyin. I even had a picture of a train!

Arriving at the station, I passed through security and wandered up the stairs to a large waiting room. My ticket had already been purchased, so I knew the train number, my car number and my sleeping berth. When a large group of people stood up near my departure time, so did I, and there was the train, pulling up outside.

It is approximately a 12-hour ride from Korla to Kashgar, and it was already after midnight when I began. So with few preliminaries, I settled into my berth and click-clacked off to sleep.

In the morning, I alternately read and looked out the window (pretty desolate landscape). A young girl (4 or 5 years old) was in the same compartment, and we amused ourselves by drawing pictures back and and forth on my notepad.

The train reached Kashgar a bit after noon, and I caught a taxi to the Seman Hotel (formerly the site of the Russian Embassy) Hoping the name didn't refer to stained sheets, I checked into a 6-bed dorm room, acquired

a map of Kashgar, and set out.

The vast majority of the population in this city is Uighur, a Muslim minority that bear no physical resemblance to the Chinese. Indeed, wandering through the city it felt as

though a surreal blending had occured between Morocco and China. Signs were written both in the arabic script and in Chinese. An outdoor stand

selling kebabs was overshadowed by a massive statue of Chairman Mao.....

My first stop was the bazzar, one of the largest outdoor markets in Asia. Everywhere I looked, scenes of interest were being enacted.

Smells ranging from spices to goats set the appropriate olfactory background.

Heading back to the hotel, I stopped at the travel agency in the lobby. First, I needed a return ticket to Korla 4 days hence. Second, I wanted to know the cost of arranging a trip to Kurakul Lake (a scenic spot on the Karakoram Highway linking China with

Pakistan).

So, the next morning I checked out of the hotel (no one else had slept in the dorm, so I'd had the 6-bed three-room accomodation to myself). After a couple hours of wandering through Old Town, I returned to the travel agency where a taxi and a fellow-traveler from Korea were waiting.

The itinerary was a drive up the Karakorum Highway to Tashkurgan (near the Pakistan border), and then a return to Kurukul Lake for an overnight stay. As we left Kashgar, the mountains began. First the foothills, and then the towering snowcaps that this highway is famous for. We passed the occasional village of mud and stone, but by and large this was isolated country. We saw more yaks and camels than people.

In Tashkurgan we visited the old stone city, and then began the drive back to Kurukul Lake. Here my non-English-speaking Korean companion I stayed in a one-room stone hut with a Kyrzyk family. And, oh boy, we must

have timed it just right to arrive on Yak Night.

First we were offered yak butter tea with fresh bread. Next, fresh yak yoghurt. And the entree (cooked on a stove fueled by yak dung) was yak meat and noodles. Yak yak yak has a whole new meaning for me.

The altitude at the lake is about the same elevation as the peak of Mount Rainer, so it was a cold evening. But the stars were amazing. And layers of carpet and rugs made for warm sleeping.

In the morning I took a three-hour camel ride around the lake, and we then began our retrun ride to Kashgar.

I picked up my train ticket for the following day (no sleeper was available), and wandered off to a new hotel. There was nothing wrong with Seman's; I just wanted to check out another spot. The Chini Bagh Hotel (formerly the English Embassy) was located near Old Town and right next door to a Western restaurant, the Caravan Cafe. I HAD PIZZA FOR DINNER!!!! They even sold shots of absinthe imported from the Czech Republic. And more exciting still, the Cafe had a shelf of English books. Regretably, they would not sell me the John Irving book I discovered. I was informed that the books were only for reading on the premises. So I returned the next morning, had a coffee, and bought it then. Different staff; different rules.

I wandered through the alleys of Old Town for several hours. At one point a child was playing with a yo-yo. I took her picture, and gave her a thumbs-up for her skills. At her suddenly dismayed look, I remembered that thumbs up has an entirely different meaning in China than it does in Arabic countries. And in Uighur settllements? Who knows...

The train back (from one in the afternoon until one-thirty in the morning) was long ride. But my seat-mate spoke enough English for a 12-hour conversation, and the journey left my new John Irving book undented. For the last half hour before arriving in Korla I did some magic tricks, which entertained about half of the car crowding around my seat.

Arriving at Korla I told the taxi the name of my compound, and hooray he understood. I was prepared to say KFC (and even draw a picture of the Colonel), knowing that that he would have to drive past my home enroute to the chicken franchise.

It was an exotic trip. Just what I wanted. And even if I have been too lazy to properly describe its subtleties, maybe the picures will afford you a glimpse.

Chinese railroad worker: But what will you do?
Kwai Chang Caine: Work. Wander. Rest when I can
-from the television series, 'Kung Fu'

Jules: That's what I've been sitting here contemplating. First, I'm gonna deliver this case to Marcellus. Then, basically, I'm gonna walk the earth.
Vincent: What do you mean, walk the earth?
Jules: You know, like Caine in "Kung Fu." Just walk from town to town, meet people, get in adventures.
Vincent: How long do you intend to walk the earth?
Jules: Until God puts me where he wants me to be.
Vincent: What if he never does?
Jules: If it takes forever, I'll wait forever.
Vincent: So you decided to be a bum?
Jules: I'll just be Jules, VIncent. No more, no less.
-from the movie, 'Pulp Fiction'

Food and Festivals

I like rice. Rice is great if you're hungry and want 2000 of something. -Mitch Hedberg

I have been in Korla for one month. My first English lesson will take place next week, so for the last 30 days I have wandered through town, for all intents and purposes, as a deaf-mute.




This has its advantages. Be honest now: In this last month of the Presidential campaign, haven't you secretly wished you didn't understand English? Lucky George!




Still, the inability to verbally communicate does pose some logistical hurdles. Food comes to mind, for example, and the times when the food in my mind has failed to materialize as food in my stomach.

The compound I live in has a number of restaurants, and several of them are buffets. This is eating at its easiest, strolling down the line and selecting whatever looks appealing. There is always rice and always soup. A variety of vegetable dishes, some with meat and some without. Usually noodles, often bread, and always fruit. It's a piece of cake (without the cake).

Ah, but sometimes the meat misleads me. More than once I have bit into flesh, thinking it was something else, and found myself chewing liver. Those inscrutable chinese meats!

There is also a Uighur restaurant in the compound, and numerous more outside the gates. At first I kept pictures of the dishes I liked on my digital camera, to present the restaurant worker with a visual display of my desires. Now, I have a few Uighur words with which to order.

There are also many small eateries and sidewalk stands where I can employ the point-and-chew method.

I wrote earlier that this location is farther from an ocean than anywhere else. Maybe it's also the furthest city from a Taco Bell. There is however, a KFC, which has lured me in twice so far. There is no sign of McDonalds, nor of its icon, 'Uncle Ronald,' as he is known to the Chinese.

At times I even cook for myself, though admittedly it's been limited to stirfry and instant noodles.

The first time I went to a friend's home for dinner, I was served a big bowl of chicken's feet and chiles. Last week, dining with a couple of friends, they graciously put the fish head in my bowl...




Although I have been here only a short time, several holidays have already served me well. The first was Teacher's Day, when all the school staff had a half day off and were given 500 yuan in cash. In Western terms (certainly when compared with 700 billion dollars) 500 yuan is not much. But when an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet costs two yuan, 500 of those guys go a long way. Teacher's Day was also recognized by numerous businesses in town, in the form of free gifts and discounts. And many students arrived bearing flowers and small gifts.

A few days later came the Mid-Autumn Festival. We were given a three-day weekend for this event, and a 300 yuan credit in the compound's stores. The park across the river from my apartment was brightly lit every night, along with the bridge, and hosted outdoor movies, vendors and cultural exhibits. The school also sponsored a one-day trip to the edge of the Taklamaken Desert.




And, coming up this week, is National Day (the anniversary of the People's Republic of China). Three days vacation for this event, and they are convening school on Saturday and Sunday so we will have seven consecutive days off. And, a cash bonus of 800 yuan. I'm planning to take those days and catch a sleeper train to Kashgar. It should be an experience.




May the bears and bulls of your market be kind, and may the bears and bulls of my market be non-existent (it's tricky enough to deal with the chickens and fish).

Being in love was like China: You knew it was there, and no doubt it was very interesting, and some people went there, but I never would. I'd spend all my life without ever going to China, but it wouldn't matter, because there was all the rest of the world to visit.
-Phillip Pullman

A Walk Without Talk

Remember that river running between my compound and downtown? (psstt! If you don't, just scroll down).
Well, I went for a wander yesterday, and no bridge was required. I found out later that this is an annual phenomena; the water is stopped further upstream so that the muck and guck can be cleared away.
At any rate, as I was gingerly making my way across the channel, I noticed a number of people searching through (and pulling things out of) the sludge.
I was hesitant to look closer, in the event that their plunder resembled some mystery munchie from the compound restaurant. But it turned out to be some type of clam (or at least a clammish kind of shelled thing). Of course, they might have been pulling other things out as well..... Nope! I don't want to know.
I continued on my walk, through and beyond downtown. No specific destination; just window-shopping and people watching. When I reached my furthest point away from home (a couple of hours on foot), I realized that I had yet to use a public toilet in China. I also realized that I didn't know how to ask for one. Some things you just don't mime.
Oh, for the days of the John Muir Trail when the world was my toilet (in a good way).
The situation was becoming more than a tad uncomfortable, when I spied a sign with a graphic of a man and woman. Yes, relief!
Two lessons learned: One, until I learn to speak Mandarin, always carry my phrasebook. Two, always carry toilet paper. Like many Thai facilities, this was a squat toilet without paper. Unlike Thailand, there was no water spigot.
NOTE: If this blog entry is short, it's because my notes were used elsewhere. Nope, you don't want to know.

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