This morning we managed to wake up nice and early after an excellent nights sleep in the cooler air, despite Sarahs wiggling in her cocoon. The alarm sounded at 6.30 but we were already up and awake, slipping on our new recently acquired Chinese walking shoes. We had planned the previous night on an early morning walk to blow away the cobwebs, start our acclimatisation to the altitude and take in some of the amazing scenery!
By 6.40 we were walking over the rocky river banks to head over a dodgy suspension bridge spanning the Indus. From here we passed through a small awakening village, passed some lovely irrigated high land and up a steep but not too high local hill. The views from the top were stunning, at the bottom of the cliffs below us were two wild rivers crashing into each other and dominating either end of the valley were huge snow covered mountains projecting into the sky. At about 8.30 the sun rose over the valley wall, suddenly warming us up and bathing our surroundings with bright colours. All this before breakfast!
After sitting and enjoying the peacefulness we headed down back towards the bridge and village to grab brekkie. We chose the government run motel to eat omelets and parathas - a kind of fried flaky chapati, all washed down with big mugs of milky tea! Mmmm. At breakfast we met two nice people who had ridden motor bikes from Switzerland, speaking to them made us quite jealous! We sat about swapping stories for a while before heading off and attempting to find transport towards a town with a tailor. There were a few transport options to take us away from this ramshackle collection of huts but trying to figure them out was chaotic and complicated. In the end we left the hecticness behind and walked a little further down the road and put our bags down. We did not have to wait long before a car heading our way turned up. It was a tiny suzuki car about to fall apart at any minute, but cheap and leaving straight away so we were happy to take it. Our bags rather worryingly were tossed loosely onto a roof rack, when Sarah and I tried to tie them on, the driver said "no, no, no worries - lets go!" Rather reluctantly we jumped in and set off on the two hour roller coaster ride.
The driver and passenger were both young Pakistani men heading home to Gilgit, our stop was on the way so we were probably covering their petrol for the journey. Seat belts must have been an optional extra not taken up by the original owner, so the only thing holding us into our seats were the g-forces of acceleration and tight turns. With the obligatory latest bollywood style beats blaring out of the crackling home installed sound system we flew through the valleys at the speed of the water rushing below us.
The driver was actually a strange one, instead of consistently scaring the crap out of us with his driving he would slow down to a snails pace whenever he lost his concentration or he was thinking of something else. As soon as he realised the foot would be back on the accelerator, pedal to the floor no matter how sharp the bends in front whilst trying to avoid the rock fall debris at all costs! This constant change from fast to slow really made us feel as if we were on a roller coaster.
There is no way we could possibly summerise the scenery in words or pictures, we could write every relevant adjective in the most positive way and it would still come no way near describing how amazing, epic and huge our surroundings are. The road is precariously cut into the mountain edges, consistently at risk of being reclaimed by the mountains. The huge monstrous giants to our sides are continuously shedding their skins sending huge house sized chunks of rock crashing down, or tones of loose shingle. We have been warned by so many people that no matter what we do, do not travel on the KKH during or just after rain. The slopes become even more unstable making landslides and rockfalls a real danger. The locals of course have different views on danger as their lives are in the hands of God, 'Insha'Allah' - God willing they say, or so be it. To make the journey even more heart thumpingly scary is the added danger from the partial culprit responsible for the dramatic scenery, the Indus. This wild, frothy savage river is always there, nipping at your heals seemingly begging to swallow you up and spit you out thousands of miles away.
Its a constant battle for the engineers and road builders fighting the powers of ice and water here. The road is important not so much for the trade with China (which is surprisingly light) , but as it is the only access road for the population in the area. Come spring the gushing snow melt water washes away whole sections of tarmac, cutting new gashes to be filled in or bridged. What the water does not damage the constant rock falls and landslides finish off making the whole process a never ending story. You really feel Geology has stepped up a gear and is racing instead of moving at its usual slow crusty pace.
As we have said the views from the car were stunning, unreal and unbelievably epic. My insides were kicking and screaming, I just wanted to stick my head out the open window and yell at the mountains, yell at everything we were passing, just shout how amazing I thought it was - the scale and awesomeness was just too much for my brain to take in. The people we had met so far, the culture, the huge 7000m+ mountains wanting to collapse on us, the history, everything makes this the most incredible place I think I have ever been. Is it possible to have visited the best place on Earth? I was certainly thinking that in the car. The feeling was quickly followed by panic! Will this mean going back home and finding a job as everything will be a disappointment from now?? I doubt it. We will just have to try and blag a flight to space with Willows soon to be ex-boss before its too late! Anyway, we feel like little people in a giants world, dwarfed by everything including the generosity and hospitality of the people we meet. I have never shaken so many hands in such a short space of time.
The driver dropped us off in a small hamlet called Ganish, a junction on the KKH where the road turning off soars up to our destination, the village of Karimabad. After sitting on the side of the road for only a minute or two we hitched a ride in the gravel filled trailer of a passing builders tractor. Sitting on the pile of gravel surrounded by smiling men whist chugging noisily up the hill we couldn't help stealing a quick smile as we finally felt the long lost spirit of adventure after its long Chinese absence. The tractor struggled with its load up the steep slope so it took a while to cover the 6 or 7km to our village. After our arrival we quickly found some where to crash and hit the local eatery for a tasty bowl of daal and chapattis.
Karimabad is the ancient capital of the Hunza valley. Its a very small village with an amazing fort, all perched high up with stupendous views of the valleys below. Behind us towers the mighty Ultar mountain standing tall at 7388m, which until '96 was the lowest unclimbed attempted mountain, claiming quite a few peoples lives. The climbers who made the summit died on the way down and no-one has made it since. You can see why when you look at it! Opposite on the other side of the valley we are watched by Rakaposhi, weighing in at 7010m. In every other direction we are circled by anonymous peaks that would dwarf anything in Europe.
Our accommodation was nice, with great views of the valley. In the afternoon we checked out some local info on trekking routes then hit a local hotel for drinks (cokes) with the Swiss motorcyclists. We spent the evening watching the pointless, over the top, goose stepping extravaganza that was the Olympic opening ceremony, whooping with joy that we were no longer in that awful place called China.
Sunday, 10 August 2008
Day Two - KKH - Tashkurgan to Sost
Hello all. We have missed off Day One because we haven't got it with us. It will be going on here soon but are sticking this on now for you to read.
After gobbling some noodles and buying some water Sam and I headed to the customs, quarantine and immigration building in Tashkurgan. We had been told to be there for 10am (Beijing time) so on our arrival we were slightly surprised to only see the two Koreans (who were also on our bus) and our loaded bus. The place didn't open to begin border formalities until 10:30 and with no sign of other passengers or the driver we sat and waited. At about 10:20 people started to arrive for work - boarder guards, police, the army, they all started rolling up in their 4x4's smoking their 10th cigarette of the morning. While we had been waiting, pick up trucks loaded with melons, Royal Korea bedspreads, pots and pans and other such paraphernalia were creating piles of baggage outside the entrance. Our hopes of a swift process were getting quickly dashed. Finally our driver and the rest of the passengers (mainly Pakistani business men) appeared and we started to get the bus unloaded.
The China exit procedure has three control points. First is quarantine, where you have to sign a form saying you aren't ill and stand in front of a tall, slender machine which can instantly, using thermal imaging, detect whether or not you have a fever. Second is the x-ray/whats in our bag routine and finally the exit stamp. The whole process however was marred by three 'hazard' factors which meant, although it wasn't that bad it had the potential to be alot slicker. Firstly, all the baggage. There was on average, between 5 - 10 boxes/bags to each person so there was ALOT of two-ing and fro-ing between each of the controls as business men hurried around quite a cramped and narrow hall trying to keep everything together. Secondly, just for the Olympics, they had rearranged all the control points. All the controls and desks were arranged in a neat stright and logical line with Chinese and English signs. The only problem with this re-arranging was that some MUPPET had put the x-ray machine backwards. So (bearing in mind our first problem) you had to walk past the machine, pur our bags on, shuffle back to the 'front', clamber over the queue of people waiting to put their boxes and bags on, grab our bags and squeeze back past everyone. The third factor just to add to this circus was that it was all being filmed for one of Chinas many patriotic TV channels to show what a good job everyone is doing in the face of the Olympics. In this already chaotic process of boxes and backwards x-ray machines the authorities managed to trap the foreigners; two English (us), two Koreans, two Japanese and one Pakistan medical school graduate. We were then made to watch an English language video about transporting counterfiet and pirated goods. Our saving grace was that the videos' customs officer was non-other than arm and leg wielding, Rush Hour, Rumble in the Bronx, Kung Fu king Jackie Chan! So rather than stand there and take an otherwise awful video serously we were all laughing and joking about it. The film crew, filming us watching the film even started to film the film; everyone loves a bit of Jackie! We were then filmed being handed customs booklets, which was pointless as it was all in Chinese, which non of us could read, much to the surprise of the customs officals. Finally we made it through, got our all important exit stamp and went to get loaded onto the bus again. Loading was a bit more tricky this time round as we had picked up an extra couple of busniess men and all their luggage. We finally set off with a member of the army on board (to make sure we didn't run off into the wilderness between here and the boarder) for the final 125km stretch to the Khunjerab Pass and Pakistan!
The Khunjerab pass is an end both politically and geographically to China. At 4,934m we were just below the snow line, on the highest paved international border post in the world and on the edge of our seats. After a quick final check of the passports by the Chinese we crossed into Pakistan. The atmosphere on the bus went from expectation to relaxationa and happiness, the road from smooth tarmac to bumpy gravel and the scenery from rolling and clean to rugged and dramatic. The change was almost instant and amazing. On arrival we were soon met by four Pakistan border guards all sporting berets with cap badges and thick bushy moustaches - excellent! One guard got on our bus, shook a bag, poked a suitcase, enquired about the melons and sent us on our way - easy. Our actual immigration and customs was in Sost another 85km away. We headed down off the pass, descending into a scenery of steep valleys, morain (old glacier deposits), churning blue/grey glacial rivers and towering cliffs. The Paksitan men were very happy to be leaving China and were keen to get us aquainted with their country as soon as possible. They proudly explained that we were now driving through Khunjerab National Park and would jump up and point out herds of Yak, Ibex and sunbathing marmots as we passed. After half an hour in Pakistan we had seen more wildlife than a whole three and something months in China. The business men were really friendly offering us food and advice as we bumped along. They could all speak some English and one was particualry fluent. When discussing the safety of Pakistan he told Sam, once he had brought his Shalwar Kameez would have no prblem with safety because, with his beard, we would look like Taliban! This joke was met with roars of laughter from the rest of the Pakistan contingency. The guy had abviously hit the spot about what they were all thinking.
We continued to follow the road along the valley, hugging the side of cliffs or skirting the bottom of rockfalls we saw the river below us become larger and more forceful as other rivers joined in a swirl of rapids and mixes of browns and greys. These mineral rich, silt filled, rushing waters will eventually become part of the mighty Indus river. We had to cross one of the small tributatries which involved most of the men piling out and energetically discussing the best way to cross as we couldn't see how deep the river was and the road was no longer there. Luckily it wasn't that deep and we made it safely across and rejoined the road. To add to the already dramatic scenery are the ever present white, snow capped mountains pearing down narrow, deep gauges and peaking over the top of scree covered slopes. These peeping toms however are really soaring monsters. Looking like diamonds in the rough they project a feeling of immense power and beauty, both magical and deadly. After a couple of hours we arrived in Sost. Here the border controls, at least on entry, seemed extremely lax. Immingration involved the filling out of two forms and two guards writing your details, by hand, into a giant log book, enquiring about your occupation and giving you a big, hurrah! stamp in your passport. We then drove down to the customs yard where everything was unloaded onto the ground. A customs offical, dressed in a black woolen Shalwar Kameez would then have a wander round, chat to various familiar faces and just wave his hand dismissively at the likes of Sam and I, so we picked up our bags and left without further ado.
We had obviously become accustomed to China without realising it as Sost was a definate, but not unwelcome shock to the system. We had been used to arriving, even in a small town, to white tiled multi-storey buildings with neons signs and wide streets. Sost was a cluster of one-storey concrete squares, a gravel main road and dusty side streets, it was tiny and ramshackled and we loved it. Our hotel, the Asia Star was a bargain at 300 PKR (Pakistan Rupees) a night (2 pounds!) and included extras were two wicker chairs, candle and matches and a padlock for your door. We dumped our stuff and headed out for a walk. We decided to stroll along to the old part of town, about 2km down the road. We soon came across a roadside cricket match, the customs officals still in their black woolen uniforms, were playing joint wicket keeper and the local head of police was overseeing the teams performance. The constable happily shook Sam and my hands and welcomed us to Sost and Pakistan. Further down the road was a front yard knockabout which Sam was invited to bat in. After a disappointing first miss he then managed to knock the ball for six, or at least whacked it towards the cow tied up in the garden. We then got chatting to one of the guys and saw he ran a hostel/restaurant so we headed indoors for some milk tea and dinner. Our first Pakistan meal, half a chicken in a spicy tomato curry sauce and chipatis, DELICIOUS! No more Chinese food, Whay! After dinner we walked back along the road and were frequently passed by the outrageously elaborate, over-the-top decorated trucks heading the other way. As they passed by in a blur of colour and jing-iling horns were hooted and smiling waving drivers kept asking us if we wanted a lift - we wished! We continued our walk round the back of our hotel down to the river where we sat and reflected on our arrival as the murky torrent of a river rushed past. We have immediately clicked with Pakistan and can't wait to see more of it, so much so I even jumped at the idea of an early morning walk up one of the hills opposite us! This place must be good!
After gobbling some noodles and buying some water Sam and I headed to the customs, quarantine and immigration building in Tashkurgan. We had been told to be there for 10am (Beijing time) so on our arrival we were slightly surprised to only see the two Koreans (who were also on our bus) and our loaded bus. The place didn't open to begin border formalities until 10:30 and with no sign of other passengers or the driver we sat and waited. At about 10:20 people started to arrive for work - boarder guards, police, the army, they all started rolling up in their 4x4's smoking their 10th cigarette of the morning. While we had been waiting, pick up trucks loaded with melons, Royal Korea bedspreads, pots and pans and other such paraphernalia were creating piles of baggage outside the entrance. Our hopes of a swift process were getting quickly dashed. Finally our driver and the rest of the passengers (mainly Pakistani business men) appeared and we started to get the bus unloaded.
The China exit procedure has three control points. First is quarantine, where you have to sign a form saying you aren't ill and stand in front of a tall, slender machine which can instantly, using thermal imaging, detect whether or not you have a fever. Second is the x-ray/whats in our bag routine and finally the exit stamp. The whole process however was marred by three 'hazard' factors which meant, although it wasn't that bad it had the potential to be alot slicker. Firstly, all the baggage. There was on average, between 5 - 10 boxes/bags to each person so there was ALOT of two-ing and fro-ing between each of the controls as business men hurried around quite a cramped and narrow hall trying to keep everything together. Secondly, just for the Olympics, they had rearranged all the control points. All the controls and desks were arranged in a neat stright and logical line with Chinese and English signs. The only problem with this re-arranging was that some MUPPET had put the x-ray machine backwards. So (bearing in mind our first problem) you had to walk past the machine, pur our bags on, shuffle back to the 'front', clamber over the queue of people waiting to put their boxes and bags on, grab our bags and squeeze back past everyone. The third factor just to add to this circus was that it was all being filmed for one of Chinas many patriotic TV channels to show what a good job everyone is doing in the face of the Olympics. In this already chaotic process of boxes and backwards x-ray machines the authorities managed to trap the foreigners; two English (us), two Koreans, two Japanese and one Pakistan medical school graduate. We were then made to watch an English language video about transporting counterfiet and pirated goods. Our saving grace was that the videos' customs officer was non-other than arm and leg wielding, Rush Hour, Rumble in the Bronx, Kung Fu king Jackie Chan! So rather than stand there and take an otherwise awful video serously we were all laughing and joking about it. The film crew, filming us watching the film even started to film the film; everyone loves a bit of Jackie! We were then filmed being handed customs booklets, which was pointless as it was all in Chinese, which non of us could read, much to the surprise of the customs officals. Finally we made it through, got our all important exit stamp and went to get loaded onto the bus again. Loading was a bit more tricky this time round as we had picked up an extra couple of busniess men and all their luggage. We finally set off with a member of the army on board (to make sure we didn't run off into the wilderness between here and the boarder) for the final 125km stretch to the Khunjerab Pass and Pakistan!
The Khunjerab pass is an end both politically and geographically to China. At 4,934m we were just below the snow line, on the highest paved international border post in the world and on the edge of our seats. After a quick final check of the passports by the Chinese we crossed into Pakistan. The atmosphere on the bus went from expectation to relaxationa and happiness, the road from smooth tarmac to bumpy gravel and the scenery from rolling and clean to rugged and dramatic. The change was almost instant and amazing. On arrival we were soon met by four Pakistan border guards all sporting berets with cap badges and thick bushy moustaches - excellent! One guard got on our bus, shook a bag, poked a suitcase, enquired about the melons and sent us on our way - easy. Our actual immigration and customs was in Sost another 85km away. We headed down off the pass, descending into a scenery of steep valleys, morain (old glacier deposits), churning blue/grey glacial rivers and towering cliffs. The Paksitan men were very happy to be leaving China and were keen to get us aquainted with their country as soon as possible. They proudly explained that we were now driving through Khunjerab National Park and would jump up and point out herds of Yak, Ibex and sunbathing marmots as we passed. After half an hour in Pakistan we had seen more wildlife than a whole three and something months in China. The business men were really friendly offering us food and advice as we bumped along. They could all speak some English and one was particualry fluent. When discussing the safety of Pakistan he told Sam, once he had brought his Shalwar Kameez would have no prblem with safety because, with his beard, we would look like Taliban! This joke was met with roars of laughter from the rest of the Pakistan contingency. The guy had abviously hit the spot about what they were all thinking.
We continued to follow the road along the valley, hugging the side of cliffs or skirting the bottom of rockfalls we saw the river below us become larger and more forceful as other rivers joined in a swirl of rapids and mixes of browns and greys. These mineral rich, silt filled, rushing waters will eventually become part of the mighty Indus river. We had to cross one of the small tributatries which involved most of the men piling out and energetically discussing the best way to cross as we couldn't see how deep the river was and the road was no longer there. Luckily it wasn't that deep and we made it safely across and rejoined the road. To add to the already dramatic scenery are the ever present white, snow capped mountains pearing down narrow, deep gauges and peaking over the top of scree covered slopes. These peeping toms however are really soaring monsters. Looking like diamonds in the rough they project a feeling of immense power and beauty, both magical and deadly. After a couple of hours we arrived in Sost. Here the border controls, at least on entry, seemed extremely lax. Immingration involved the filling out of two forms and two guards writing your details, by hand, into a giant log book, enquiring about your occupation and giving you a big, hurrah! stamp in your passport. We then drove down to the customs yard where everything was unloaded onto the ground. A customs offical, dressed in a black woolen Shalwar Kameez would then have a wander round, chat to various familiar faces and just wave his hand dismissively at the likes of Sam and I, so we picked up our bags and left without further ado.
We had obviously become accustomed to China without realising it as Sost was a definate, but not unwelcome shock to the system. We had been used to arriving, even in a small town, to white tiled multi-storey buildings with neons signs and wide streets. Sost was a cluster of one-storey concrete squares, a gravel main road and dusty side streets, it was tiny and ramshackled and we loved it. Our hotel, the Asia Star was a bargain at 300 PKR (Pakistan Rupees) a night (2 pounds!) and included extras were two wicker chairs, candle and matches and a padlock for your door. We dumped our stuff and headed out for a walk. We decided to stroll along to the old part of town, about 2km down the road. We soon came across a roadside cricket match, the customs officals still in their black woolen uniforms, were playing joint wicket keeper and the local head of police was overseeing the teams performance. The constable happily shook Sam and my hands and welcomed us to Sost and Pakistan. Further down the road was a front yard knockabout which Sam was invited to bat in. After a disappointing first miss he then managed to knock the ball for six, or at least whacked it towards the cow tied up in the garden. We then got chatting to one of the guys and saw he ran a hostel/restaurant so we headed indoors for some milk tea and dinner. Our first Pakistan meal, half a chicken in a spicy tomato curry sauce and chipatis, DELICIOUS! No more Chinese food, Whay! After dinner we walked back along the road and were frequently passed by the outrageously elaborate, over-the-top decorated trucks heading the other way. As they passed by in a blur of colour and jing-iling horns were hooted and smiling waving drivers kept asking us if we wanted a lift - we wished! We continued our walk round the back of our hotel down to the river where we sat and reflected on our arrival as the murky torrent of a river rushed past. We have immediately clicked with Pakistan and can't wait to see more of it, so much so I even jumped at the idea of an early morning walk up one of the hills opposite us! This place must be good!
Monday, 4 August 2008
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/aug/05/china.terrorism
Its amazing how quickly these people turn up after something like this has happened. As soon as they heard they were on the first flight over here and were wondering around without much idea to what had happened. Sarah and I filled them in with some of the details we knew which turned into an interview on a tv camera, slightly sketchy with the Chinese police around. When we walked down to the militry police station some of the guards caming running out shouting to grab the cameras and the camera man pulling him shouting into the police station, Sarah and I side stepped unseen into a dark side street and the reporter, the big girl legged it so fast into a taxi leaving us there at the mercy of the chinese police.... we hope you are entering the 100m olympic dash Mr Johnathan Watts! We managed to slip away without being caught and the camera man managed to get away soon after us. All in all it was quite an exciting walk home after dinner.
Its amazing how quickly these people turn up after something like this has happened. As soon as they heard they were on the first flight over here and were wondering around without much idea to what had happened. Sarah and I filled them in with some of the details we knew which turned into an interview on a tv camera, slightly sketchy with the Chinese police around. When we walked down to the militry police station some of the guards caming running out shouting to grab the cameras and the camera man pulling him shouting into the police station, Sarah and I side stepped unseen into a dark side street and the reporter, the big girl legged it so fast into a taxi leaving us there at the mercy of the chinese police.... we hope you are entering the 100m olympic dash Mr Johnathan Watts! We managed to slip away without being caught and the camera man managed to get away soon after us. All in all it was quite an exciting walk home after dinner.
Back to work and Police man Ping Pong....
Today was one of the strangest days we have had in China so far- it started with a day at work and ended with being detained by the Police! Mmmm…. Where to begin?
Last night we were invited to visit Reyhans place of work to meet her friends and see what she does. We planned to meet at 7am Urigur time. Perhaps because we knew we were going back to work, maybe because of our previous late night we had great difficulty in waking up and snoozed the alarm over ten times before finally dragging our lazy butts out of bed. We dressed quickly, best trousers on for Sam and Sarahs only set of clean clothes then splashed cold water on our faces in preparation for the heat blast we would receive after opening the door. After surviving the heat blast we sat on the curb outside and watched the world go by whilst waiting for Reyhan to arrive. During this time we watched a policeman crash into a motorcyclist knocking him and the old woman off, the accident was caused by a pedestrian who ran into the road – the policeman then had his hands full trying to organize the accident whilst trying to stop the pedestrian from legging it! Luckily people were not too injured and once again everyone seemed to stand up and walk off without too much of a problem.
Reyhan arrived with one minute to spare before needing to be at work. Once again we were going to be late for work, this was becoming more and more like going to work at home! It was a ten minute walk to the office or a two minute journey by bus so we decided to take the bus, or try to. The bus had a red arm band wearing communist party official (Chinese person) searching all passengers bags before they boarded and for some strange reason only known to the backwards xenophobic official who created the rule, I was not allowed aboard because my bag contained a camera – a lethal weapon in the hands of an photographer, perhaps a party official misunderstood the meaning of photo shoot. Sarah stopped me before I was able to point it at them and make machine gun sounds. Our Urigur friend was very apologetic and blamed the increased security on Chinese paranoia concerning the Olympics’ – whilst Sarah and I understood the reasons behind a search (guns, bombs, free Tibet banners, Mao stinks posters etc) we are really vexed as to what reasons could be given for no cameras on the bus.
Neither Sarah or I had any idea what to expect when we arrived, what we would be doing there or what sort of work place it was (our friend did not know the English name of her job or company type) but it turned out to be the Turpan branch for Ping An China, a Chinese life insurance and savings company. After quickly apologizing to the boss for our lateness we were hurried rather reluctantly into the Urigur morning team brief meeting room with the 40 or so employees applauding our arrival! We then sat and listened to their morning talk from their managers, lots of Hu Rahh sort of shouting’s and clapping at certain points, everyone stood up to belt out the company policy followed by various people talking at the front – probably giving a run down of yesterdays performance and what jobs need to be done today, same crap different language. In amongst this Sarah and I were asked to stand up and introduce ourselves, we managed to say hello my name is Sam in Urigur which they loved, followed by where we were from and how long we have been here for etc resulting in lots of clapping, lots of telling us how welcome we are here and how glad we were here etc. After various jokes and laughter – all of which we had no idea what was going on we sat back down and they resumed their morning brief! All very surreal and very much like something from a Michael Palin travel program.
When the meeting was over we were then taken into the Chinese employees meeting room to be introduced where we were not given such a warm reception and were generally met with the same open mouth blank face expression all over china. We are not sure why but the teams in the office were divided by nationality, Urgirs and Chinese had separate offices, workspaces and team meetings. The reason was not language as all Urgirs can speak Chinese and learn it in school at the same time as Urgir.
After this we felt very much like a puppy bought into work with people wanting to come and check us our, feel our hair and say ahhh how cute etc. We spent some time being shown about whilst being followed by a man with a camera. In very broken English we were shown posters and rooms, introduced to people and sat down with cups of warm water. All in all it was a strange experience but interesting to see how a Chinese company functions and a good opportunity to help Reyhan practice her English.
This slightly traumatic trip was rewarded by a hearty lunch in a great Urgir restaurant that although has an expensive look is amazingly cheap for a great big portion of food. I enjoyed ‘Polo’ which is similar to Plov or byrianni, chunks of meat in rice with rasens, bits of veg and spices – amazingly tasty. Sarah feasted on ‘Soman’ a really good dish of fat noodles chopped into 1cm square chunks mixed up with spicy tomato sauce, big chunks of garlic, onions and beans…Mmmm. All this with an endless free supply of Urigur chai, green tea with nutmeg and rose petals – we must have drunk a gallon each its such good tea. The meal price for the three of us was less than two pounds.
Turpan is situated in a desert and a deep depression so the daytime temperature is very high, today was no exception with highs of 44 degrees. By two o’clock we were both struggling so decided to sleep off the worst of the daytime heat and have a siesta. We arranged to meet reyhan again in a few hours.
We had met Reyhan two days before in the market, she lived in Turpan and had spent some time learning English in a local school so was quite keen to practice with us. We had no objection to this and enjoyed being shown around town by someone local who could also teach us some Urigur. During one conversation (about the olympics or sports) we had expressed an interest in playing some table tennis and it turned out that Reyhan had been some kind of instructor at school so was keen to play with us. Yesterday we had tried to play at a local school but because the schools are on holiday at the moment the guard would not let us all onto the grounds, Reyhan being a bit disappointed spoke to the caretaker of another school near where she lived, about a five minutes walk from the towns Bazaar who said no problem we could come and play tomorrow. So today in the evening when the temperature lowered a little we went to Reyhans house and had some melon and tea before heading off to the school. The people responsible for looking after the school were a family of five living in a small house by the back entrance who as they lived opposite Reyhan must have known her well (everyone knows everyone in this part of the world ‘yes this is my fathers brothers cousin’ ‘oh that was my mothers brothers son’ etc etc). So we said hello to the family who opened the gates then walked across the running track to the ping pong tables about 100 meters from the gate – we were in full view of the family, clearly playing table tennis and not near the school buildings.
Some background info - Life in China is dominated by ‘officials’ (read complete jobs-worths) wearing red arm bands who exist to tell Chinese people (who we are convinced have problems thinking for themselves) what to do. No escalator could possibly function without a red armband wearing official. People would get themselves killed on the roads unless a red armband official tells them when to cross (the green and red men are not sufficient, nor are five lanes of buses heading straight for you). Supermarkets would collapse into chaos without an army of red armband robots dictating which direction you have to walk. If it wasn’t for the red arm band wearing officials then the crowds trying to get off the bus would hit the crowds trying to get on the bus resulting in some kind of fusion reaction. We could list examples all day but we are sure you get the point, in short life in china is dominated by little people with high and mighty attitudes protected by the infamous red armband, last sported in history we might add by the Nazi party.
So, with Sarah and I loosing badly to someone who could somehow spin a ping pong ball almost 90 degrees (she didn’t really get the point of a knock about so it was quite boring having to pick the ball up every time it was hit in our direction) we spotted in the corner of our eye two red armed busy-bodies heading our way. As we had permission to be there and we were clearly playing ping pong we thought nothing was wrong as they approached. Upon arrival, without acknowledging our existence they told Reyhan that we had to leave and why were foreigners here, talking directly to her and being quite rude to us. Thinking nothing more of this we walked back to the gate and spent some playing football with the children while Reyhan filled in the family about the pointlessness of the Chinese officials, many faces were pulled and saying how stupid they were. Back on the other side of the field we could see the two officials with a third higher member of the communist party walking back over, this man was some kind of big wig and had a real attitude problem. He was here to rebuke the family for letting us through, have a go at Reyhan for hanging about with foreigners and generally be very rude to us – now he was talking about fining the family and was calling the police to take us to the police station for questioning. We had said nothing to this man to justify a trip to the police station, Reyhan had tried to convince him that ping pong was our game but for some reason he was really pissed off and was yelling to various people on the phone and having a right go at the family.
After 10 minutes of waiting four policemen turned up to take us to the station, at first they would not let Reyhan come with us but eventually after her protests they did. We were put into the back of a clapped out police van and driven (no sirens unfortunately) all of about 600 m to the nearest police station. With no doughnut or coffee offered, no one phone call allowed we had to sit in a room for ages whilst policemen of various ranks turned up. It seemed the higher the policeman the wider the waistband, so each time the next level was called a cop with a bigger belly and more pips turned up. After what felt like ages the biggest cop and presumably the highest ranking started to ask us questions – what were you doing in the school grounds- it seemed like a stupid thing to ask when we were sat there with nothing but ping pong bats in our hand. After finding out where we were staying they dispatched two people to check our hotel, have a look at our passports, check our details and presumably look in our room. After being asked various questions we were then given a short speech about not entering school grounds again, if we want to we have to apply in advance from either the headmaster or the police. As we had not asked someone official (read; Chinese) for permission we could be accused of stealing things (despite the fact we were clearly caught playing table tennis in full view of the caretakers).
All in all it was a complete waste of our time and made us feel even more unwelcome in China. Reyhan was very apologetic and blamed everything on increased security because of the Olympics – this was the third time in two days she had to apologize for red arm band wearing people actions (not allowed to use internet café as we were foreign, not allowed on the bus due to camera and finally ping pong policing). All over china we have come across people who are complete robots, absolute jobsworths who are fully unable to think outside the box. They have been brainwashed into thinking that as a foreigner we are going to unravel a free Tibet banner at every possible opportunity, that we are thieves and not to trust what we say. The reason given for not being able to stay in cheap guest houses in Tibet was that westerners will set up arms deals with the locals (that was really what we were told). It has been interesting to see the recent report from Amnesty international on how the Olympics are being used as an excuse for cracking down on peoples rights, china has of course denied this. We see evidence of this all around from much tighter visa and travel restrictions to the silent and swift removal of homeless people from tourist cities. The BBC is frequently blocked depending on what they are saying that day. We have learnt that in this western Muslim province china has killed a number of people its accused of being terrorists and arrested and forcibly moved hundred more all in the name of Olympic security. We have seen this first hand when our bus pulled over for a stop on the journey between Turpan and Urumqi. Taking up a large part of the small car park were two police buses ringed by heavily armed soldiers. One bus contained Urigur women the other smaller bus containing many Urigur men crammed in. Whilst we cannot judge a book by its cover the military guarding the buses seemed heavily out of proportion to the threat, these soldiers were not laughing or joking whilst their officer yelled at our bus driver to stay away and yelled at anyone who came near the soldiers (difficult when they were right in front of the toilets), the soldiers did not look relaxed at all and the situation was a tense and sketchy one with the weapons pointed less to the ground and more at us people walking past. It seemed intimidation and threats were the name of the game. As all eyes from inside the prisoner buses were on us I took great pleasure in making them all laugh and smile by pointing at the Chinese soldiers and giving the thumbs down sign. After beginning to attract some unwanted attention from the guards we quickly re-alighted our bus where we were waved to lots and as we drove off gave/we given lots of thumbs up signs (from the men only – the women looked quite distraught). Who knows what they had done or where they off to but we both hoped it was not one of the ‘re-education through labour’ camps the country has (which you can be put in for up to four years without a trial). We cannot imagine that these people were dangerous enough to warrant the level of military personnel and weaponry present.
Last night we were invited to visit Reyhans place of work to meet her friends and see what she does. We planned to meet at 7am Urigur time. Perhaps because we knew we were going back to work, maybe because of our previous late night we had great difficulty in waking up and snoozed the alarm over ten times before finally dragging our lazy butts out of bed. We dressed quickly, best trousers on for Sam and Sarahs only set of clean clothes then splashed cold water on our faces in preparation for the heat blast we would receive after opening the door. After surviving the heat blast we sat on the curb outside and watched the world go by whilst waiting for Reyhan to arrive. During this time we watched a policeman crash into a motorcyclist knocking him and the old woman off, the accident was caused by a pedestrian who ran into the road – the policeman then had his hands full trying to organize the accident whilst trying to stop the pedestrian from legging it! Luckily people were not too injured and once again everyone seemed to stand up and walk off without too much of a problem.
Reyhan arrived with one minute to spare before needing to be at work. Once again we were going to be late for work, this was becoming more and more like going to work at home! It was a ten minute walk to the office or a two minute journey by bus so we decided to take the bus, or try to. The bus had a red arm band wearing communist party official (Chinese person) searching all passengers bags before they boarded and for some strange reason only known to the backwards xenophobic official who created the rule, I was not allowed aboard because my bag contained a camera – a lethal weapon in the hands of an photographer, perhaps a party official misunderstood the meaning of photo shoot. Sarah stopped me before I was able to point it at them and make machine gun sounds. Our Urigur friend was very apologetic and blamed the increased security on Chinese paranoia concerning the Olympics’ – whilst Sarah and I understood the reasons behind a search (guns, bombs, free Tibet banners, Mao stinks posters etc) we are really vexed as to what reasons could be given for no cameras on the bus.
Neither Sarah or I had any idea what to expect when we arrived, what we would be doing there or what sort of work place it was (our friend did not know the English name of her job or company type) but it turned out to be the Turpan branch for Ping An China, a Chinese life insurance and savings company. After quickly apologizing to the boss for our lateness we were hurried rather reluctantly into the Urigur morning team brief meeting room with the 40 or so employees applauding our arrival! We then sat and listened to their morning talk from their managers, lots of Hu Rahh sort of shouting’s and clapping at certain points, everyone stood up to belt out the company policy followed by various people talking at the front – probably giving a run down of yesterdays performance and what jobs need to be done today, same crap different language. In amongst this Sarah and I were asked to stand up and introduce ourselves, we managed to say hello my name is Sam in Urigur which they loved, followed by where we were from and how long we have been here for etc resulting in lots of clapping, lots of telling us how welcome we are here and how glad we were here etc. After various jokes and laughter – all of which we had no idea what was going on we sat back down and they resumed their morning brief! All very surreal and very much like something from a Michael Palin travel program.
When the meeting was over we were then taken into the Chinese employees meeting room to be introduced where we were not given such a warm reception and were generally met with the same open mouth blank face expression all over china. We are not sure why but the teams in the office were divided by nationality, Urgirs and Chinese had separate offices, workspaces and team meetings. The reason was not language as all Urgirs can speak Chinese and learn it in school at the same time as Urgir.
After this we felt very much like a puppy bought into work with people wanting to come and check us our, feel our hair and say ahhh how cute etc. We spent some time being shown about whilst being followed by a man with a camera. In very broken English we were shown posters and rooms, introduced to people and sat down with cups of warm water. All in all it was a strange experience but interesting to see how a Chinese company functions and a good opportunity to help Reyhan practice her English.
This slightly traumatic trip was rewarded by a hearty lunch in a great Urgir restaurant that although has an expensive look is amazingly cheap for a great big portion of food. I enjoyed ‘Polo’ which is similar to Plov or byrianni, chunks of meat in rice with rasens, bits of veg and spices – amazingly tasty. Sarah feasted on ‘Soman’ a really good dish of fat noodles chopped into 1cm square chunks mixed up with spicy tomato sauce, big chunks of garlic, onions and beans…Mmmm. All this with an endless free supply of Urigur chai, green tea with nutmeg and rose petals – we must have drunk a gallon each its such good tea. The meal price for the three of us was less than two pounds.
Turpan is situated in a desert and a deep depression so the daytime temperature is very high, today was no exception with highs of 44 degrees. By two o’clock we were both struggling so decided to sleep off the worst of the daytime heat and have a siesta. We arranged to meet reyhan again in a few hours.
We had met Reyhan two days before in the market, she lived in Turpan and had spent some time learning English in a local school so was quite keen to practice with us. We had no objection to this and enjoyed being shown around town by someone local who could also teach us some Urigur. During one conversation (about the olympics or sports) we had expressed an interest in playing some table tennis and it turned out that Reyhan had been some kind of instructor at school so was keen to play with us. Yesterday we had tried to play at a local school but because the schools are on holiday at the moment the guard would not let us all onto the grounds, Reyhan being a bit disappointed spoke to the caretaker of another school near where she lived, about a five minutes walk from the towns Bazaar who said no problem we could come and play tomorrow. So today in the evening when the temperature lowered a little we went to Reyhans house and had some melon and tea before heading off to the school. The people responsible for looking after the school were a family of five living in a small house by the back entrance who as they lived opposite Reyhan must have known her well (everyone knows everyone in this part of the world ‘yes this is my fathers brothers cousin’ ‘oh that was my mothers brothers son’ etc etc). So we said hello to the family who opened the gates then walked across the running track to the ping pong tables about 100 meters from the gate – we were in full view of the family, clearly playing table tennis and not near the school buildings.
Some background info - Life in China is dominated by ‘officials’ (read complete jobs-worths) wearing red arm bands who exist to tell Chinese people (who we are convinced have problems thinking for themselves) what to do. No escalator could possibly function without a red armband wearing official. People would get themselves killed on the roads unless a red armband official tells them when to cross (the green and red men are not sufficient, nor are five lanes of buses heading straight for you). Supermarkets would collapse into chaos without an army of red armband robots dictating which direction you have to walk. If it wasn’t for the red arm band wearing officials then the crowds trying to get off the bus would hit the crowds trying to get on the bus resulting in some kind of fusion reaction. We could list examples all day but we are sure you get the point, in short life in china is dominated by little people with high and mighty attitudes protected by the infamous red armband, last sported in history we might add by the Nazi party.
So, with Sarah and I loosing badly to someone who could somehow spin a ping pong ball almost 90 degrees (she didn’t really get the point of a knock about so it was quite boring having to pick the ball up every time it was hit in our direction) we spotted in the corner of our eye two red armed busy-bodies heading our way. As we had permission to be there and we were clearly playing ping pong we thought nothing was wrong as they approached. Upon arrival, without acknowledging our existence they told Reyhan that we had to leave and why were foreigners here, talking directly to her and being quite rude to us. Thinking nothing more of this we walked back to the gate and spent some playing football with the children while Reyhan filled in the family about the pointlessness of the Chinese officials, many faces were pulled and saying how stupid they were. Back on the other side of the field we could see the two officials with a third higher member of the communist party walking back over, this man was some kind of big wig and had a real attitude problem. He was here to rebuke the family for letting us through, have a go at Reyhan for hanging about with foreigners and generally be very rude to us – now he was talking about fining the family and was calling the police to take us to the police station for questioning. We had said nothing to this man to justify a trip to the police station, Reyhan had tried to convince him that ping pong was our game but for some reason he was really pissed off and was yelling to various people on the phone and having a right go at the family.
After 10 minutes of waiting four policemen turned up to take us to the station, at first they would not let Reyhan come with us but eventually after her protests they did. We were put into the back of a clapped out police van and driven (no sirens unfortunately) all of about 600 m to the nearest police station. With no doughnut or coffee offered, no one phone call allowed we had to sit in a room for ages whilst policemen of various ranks turned up. It seemed the higher the policeman the wider the waistband, so each time the next level was called a cop with a bigger belly and more pips turned up. After what felt like ages the biggest cop and presumably the highest ranking started to ask us questions – what were you doing in the school grounds- it seemed like a stupid thing to ask when we were sat there with nothing but ping pong bats in our hand. After finding out where we were staying they dispatched two people to check our hotel, have a look at our passports, check our details and presumably look in our room. After being asked various questions we were then given a short speech about not entering school grounds again, if we want to we have to apply in advance from either the headmaster or the police. As we had not asked someone official (read; Chinese) for permission we could be accused of stealing things (despite the fact we were clearly caught playing table tennis in full view of the caretakers).
All in all it was a complete waste of our time and made us feel even more unwelcome in China. Reyhan was very apologetic and blamed everything on increased security because of the Olympics – this was the third time in two days she had to apologize for red arm band wearing people actions (not allowed to use internet café as we were foreign, not allowed on the bus due to camera and finally ping pong policing). All over china we have come across people who are complete robots, absolute jobsworths who are fully unable to think outside the box. They have been brainwashed into thinking that as a foreigner we are going to unravel a free Tibet banner at every possible opportunity, that we are thieves and not to trust what we say. The reason given for not being able to stay in cheap guest houses in Tibet was that westerners will set up arms deals with the locals (that was really what we were told). It has been interesting to see the recent report from Amnesty international on how the Olympics are being used as an excuse for cracking down on peoples rights, china has of course denied this. We see evidence of this all around from much tighter visa and travel restrictions to the silent and swift removal of homeless people from tourist cities. The BBC is frequently blocked depending on what they are saying that day. We have learnt that in this western Muslim province china has killed a number of people its accused of being terrorists and arrested and forcibly moved hundred more all in the name of Olympic security. We have seen this first hand when our bus pulled over for a stop on the journey between Turpan and Urumqi. Taking up a large part of the small car park were two police buses ringed by heavily armed soldiers. One bus contained Urigur women the other smaller bus containing many Urigur men crammed in. Whilst we cannot judge a book by its cover the military guarding the buses seemed heavily out of proportion to the threat, these soldiers were not laughing or joking whilst their officer yelled at our bus driver to stay away and yelled at anyone who came near the soldiers (difficult when they were right in front of the toilets), the soldiers did not look relaxed at all and the situation was a tense and sketchy one with the weapons pointed less to the ground and more at us people walking past. It seemed intimidation and threats were the name of the game. As all eyes from inside the prisoner buses were on us I took great pleasure in making them all laugh and smile by pointing at the Chinese soldiers and giving the thumbs down sign. After beginning to attract some unwanted attention from the guards we quickly re-alighted our bus where we were waved to lots and as we drove off gave/we given lots of thumbs up signs (from the men only – the women looked quite distraught). Who knows what they had done or where they off to but we both hoped it was not one of the ‘re-education through labour’ camps the country has (which you can be put in for up to four years without a trial). We cannot imagine that these people were dangerous enough to warrant the level of military personnel and weaponry present.
Turpan
Having arrived in Turpan, Xianjing province. We started our second day heading out to see some of the surrounding sights. We had met two bubbly Israeli girls the day before and had had arranged to take a car and driver. Despite the seemingly barren and hot wilderness here there are lots of sights to suggest this area has been through many ups and downs; from caves to graves, villages to city ruins and flaming mountains to grape filled valleys. Due to it being an oasis it has historically being a welcome rest bite for weary Silk Road travelers. Nowadays however it is a big tourist destination with coach loads of umbrella fanatic Chinese pushing and snapping their way into a different kind of china. We chose three sights to visit: Tuyoq village, the Flaming Mountains and the Jiahoe Ruins.
Though officially on Beijing time, being so far west the locals run on Xianjing time – 2 hrs behind Beijing. This made me feel particularly good, as our wake up at 7am was actually 5am local time. It was still relatively cool, though with lows of 27 Cel. and highs and 40 Cel. relative is definitely the word! Soon we were on our way. First destination Tuyoq village, some 40 minutes east of Turpan. This was somewhere Sam and I had suggested we go so we were hoping it would be ok, especially as the day before a Chinese woman had said she hadn’t really enjoyed it.
The entrance fee to this working village was ¥40. Putting aside the fact we are being charged to see a village the main tourist attraction there are some caves with Buddhist art, which were closed. With no discount offered we turned away from the ticket booth and set off down the street figuring we could find a way in ourselves. After walking (responsibly) across some farmland, and Sam paying our way by helping a woman wheel some rocks, we made it into the far end of the village. Tuyoq village is a chance to see an insight into the more traditional farm village life of the Urighur people. It is also a known place for Muslim pilgrimages, as there is a famous ancient Muslim is buried here. Seven pilgrimages here equals one to Mecca. The main source of income for this village is grapes. I would like to say tourism helps, but as it happens the ¥40 you would pay to see this village goes straight to the Chinese tourist board, the village sees nothing. Turpan area had large areas devoted to the production of ‘world famous’ grapes. After strolling through the outskirts looking at brightly painted doors and TV antenna made from planks of wood and wire. We soon came across a villager who promptly dropped the pile of wood he was carrying and asked us to sit down while he disappeared and soon returned with an armful of grapes. Sam sitting with three women earned an extra bunch of grapes, having three wives has its rewards. With our grapes and a bowl of tea Sam attempted some of our newly acquired Urighur language – “hello, my name is Sam” (A salaam AlaKum, Mina Ismas Sam) we were met with blank stares. This was later explained by another villager shouting “Israeli!” at the top of his voice at our host. This man was very hard of hearing. Having finished our grapes, tea and discussed where we come from, that Sam doesn’t have three wives and amazing the locals with various tattoos and peircings we set off. Our next stop was the flaming mountains. A must see according to all Turpanians, with their midday fire like appearance and an old Chinese legend behind them about monk Tripikata being unable to pass them because of the flames. Luckily the monkey Sun Wukong had a magic fan with which he extinguished the flames allowing the monk to pass. We were understandably looking forward to it and can honestly say that on arrival they were a bit of an anti climax. Not that the mountains were not impressive, if you have seen the picture on flickr then you would agree they are pretty good, only that they did not quite live up to the hype. Also the Chinese in their infinite wisdom charge people ¥40 (three pounds) to go and stand in a fenced off area to look at the mountain. The fence is about 2 foot high so without paying you can still see the mountains perfectly well.
Our final stop was the ancient ruined city of Jiahoe. Once the capital of the Anterior Cheshi Kingdom between 108BC and 450AD, it was an important post for Silk Road trade. Being situated on an island in the middle of a river it made an ideal location for the HQ of the protector general of the western regions, between 640 – 658AD. The islands cliffs made a good natural defense. The city; 1650 meters long and 300 meters wide, contained residential areas, Buddhist temples and government buildings. The city was finally abandoned in the 13th Century when the infamous Genghis Khan swept the land. Now little more than earthen walls and the odd watchtower we wandered the dusty streets and rested out of the intense heat in the shade of the great monastery. After passing many umbrella waving Chinese tourists and one who had sunstroke we made it up to the viewing platform, only to be met with a rather morbid sign announcing the location of an infant cemetery, complete with child size graves. It appears strange goings on were afoot in this city as the infant cemetery was actually located within the government main building. This somber image however was quickly juxtaposed with Chinese tourists fighting to have their picture taken on the platform. Despite a high risk of getting our eyes poked out the umbrellas added welcome splashes of colour to an otherwise dusty, mud brick scene. After all this our driver, at our request for a good but cheap restaurant in Turpan, took us to this great eat. Looking very grand and decorated Urighur style five of us ate good Urighur food and drank endless rose petal tea for ¥46, approx £3 for all five of us.
We had arranged to meet up with Rayehan later that day, and after cold showers gave her a call. We had met Rayehan the day before in the market and she had taught us some Urighur while she could practice her English with us. The idea this afternoon was to go and play table tennis (‘pingpong-shua’ in Urighur). We had to use school table tennis tables so we went to the originally names 1st Turpan school. Unfortunately, due to it being the holidays none of the tables were out so no luck, however, as Rayehan had been to this school the red-arm banded caretaker gave us five minutes for Rayehan to take us on a tour where we were shown the classrooms, dormitories, playing ground and the staff house. We (all three of us) still however wanted to play Pingpong-shua so Rayehan took us to another school. Despite the empty table tennis tables being 20 meters away the grumpy caretakers here took one look at Sam and I and point blank refused to let us play despite Rayehans pleading. Thwarted again.
We headed back to Rayehans house. Here we met Rayehans mother and grandmother, after showing off our little and badly pronounced Urighur (though they really appreciated the effort) we went to Rayehans room for tea. Rayehan lives with her mother and father in a mud brick building. You go through a gate into a covered courtyard with rooms running down one side. The kitchen and stove is at the end along with a place to wash and a place to tinker with various machines. We soon had attracted a line of visitors; cousins, aunties, neighbours, their children and cousins, in this tightly knit neighbourhood news travels fast! Rayehan then, on a last ditch attempt went across the road to another school – third time lucky. She asked if we could play Pingpong-shua there tomorrow and, to our surprise the caretaker and her family said yes, this would be ok! Finally we had somewhere to play. So, after a wander around town that evening and agreeing to accompany Rayehan to work the next morning we bid farewell. Till tomorrow!
Though officially on Beijing time, being so far west the locals run on Xianjing time – 2 hrs behind Beijing. This made me feel particularly good, as our wake up at 7am was actually 5am local time. It was still relatively cool, though with lows of 27 Cel. and highs and 40 Cel. relative is definitely the word! Soon we were on our way. First destination Tuyoq village, some 40 minutes east of Turpan. This was somewhere Sam and I had suggested we go so we were hoping it would be ok, especially as the day before a Chinese woman had said she hadn’t really enjoyed it.
The entrance fee to this working village was ¥40. Putting aside the fact we are being charged to see a village the main tourist attraction there are some caves with Buddhist art, which were closed. With no discount offered we turned away from the ticket booth and set off down the street figuring we could find a way in ourselves. After walking (responsibly) across some farmland, and Sam paying our way by helping a woman wheel some rocks, we made it into the far end of the village. Tuyoq village is a chance to see an insight into the more traditional farm village life of the Urighur people. It is also a known place for Muslim pilgrimages, as there is a famous ancient Muslim is buried here. Seven pilgrimages here equals one to Mecca. The main source of income for this village is grapes. I would like to say tourism helps, but as it happens the ¥40 you would pay to see this village goes straight to the Chinese tourist board, the village sees nothing. Turpan area had large areas devoted to the production of ‘world famous’ grapes. After strolling through the outskirts looking at brightly painted doors and TV antenna made from planks of wood and wire. We soon came across a villager who promptly dropped the pile of wood he was carrying and asked us to sit down while he disappeared and soon returned with an armful of grapes. Sam sitting with three women earned an extra bunch of grapes, having three wives has its rewards. With our grapes and a bowl of tea Sam attempted some of our newly acquired Urighur language – “hello, my name is Sam” (A salaam AlaKum, Mina Ismas Sam) we were met with blank stares. This was later explained by another villager shouting “Israeli!” at the top of his voice at our host. This man was very hard of hearing. Having finished our grapes, tea and discussed where we come from, that Sam doesn’t have three wives and amazing the locals with various tattoos and peircings we set off. Our next stop was the flaming mountains. A must see according to all Turpanians, with their midday fire like appearance and an old Chinese legend behind them about monk Tripikata being unable to pass them because of the flames. Luckily the monkey Sun Wukong had a magic fan with which he extinguished the flames allowing the monk to pass. We were understandably looking forward to it and can honestly say that on arrival they were a bit of an anti climax. Not that the mountains were not impressive, if you have seen the picture on flickr then you would agree they are pretty good, only that they did not quite live up to the hype. Also the Chinese in their infinite wisdom charge people ¥40 (three pounds) to go and stand in a fenced off area to look at the mountain. The fence is about 2 foot high so without paying you can still see the mountains perfectly well.
Our final stop was the ancient ruined city of Jiahoe. Once the capital of the Anterior Cheshi Kingdom between 108BC and 450AD, it was an important post for Silk Road trade. Being situated on an island in the middle of a river it made an ideal location for the HQ of the protector general of the western regions, between 640 – 658AD. The islands cliffs made a good natural defense. The city; 1650 meters long and 300 meters wide, contained residential areas, Buddhist temples and government buildings. The city was finally abandoned in the 13th Century when the infamous Genghis Khan swept the land. Now little more than earthen walls and the odd watchtower we wandered the dusty streets and rested out of the intense heat in the shade of the great monastery. After passing many umbrella waving Chinese tourists and one who had sunstroke we made it up to the viewing platform, only to be met with a rather morbid sign announcing the location of an infant cemetery, complete with child size graves. It appears strange goings on were afoot in this city as the infant cemetery was actually located within the government main building. This somber image however was quickly juxtaposed with Chinese tourists fighting to have their picture taken on the platform. Despite a high risk of getting our eyes poked out the umbrellas added welcome splashes of colour to an otherwise dusty, mud brick scene. After all this our driver, at our request for a good but cheap restaurant in Turpan, took us to this great eat. Looking very grand and decorated Urighur style five of us ate good Urighur food and drank endless rose petal tea for ¥46, approx £3 for all five of us.
We had arranged to meet up with Rayehan later that day, and after cold showers gave her a call. We had met Rayehan the day before in the market and she had taught us some Urighur while she could practice her English with us. The idea this afternoon was to go and play table tennis (‘pingpong-shua’ in Urighur). We had to use school table tennis tables so we went to the originally names 1st Turpan school. Unfortunately, due to it being the holidays none of the tables were out so no luck, however, as Rayehan had been to this school the red-arm banded caretaker gave us five minutes for Rayehan to take us on a tour where we were shown the classrooms, dormitories, playing ground and the staff house. We (all three of us) still however wanted to play Pingpong-shua so Rayehan took us to another school. Despite the empty table tennis tables being 20 meters away the grumpy caretakers here took one look at Sam and I and point blank refused to let us play despite Rayehans pleading. Thwarted again.
We headed back to Rayehans house. Here we met Rayehans mother and grandmother, after showing off our little and badly pronounced Urighur (though they really appreciated the effort) we went to Rayehans room for tea. Rayehan lives with her mother and father in a mud brick building. You go through a gate into a covered courtyard with rooms running down one side. The kitchen and stove is at the end along with a place to wash and a place to tinker with various machines. We soon had attracted a line of visitors; cousins, aunties, neighbours, their children and cousins, in this tightly knit neighbourhood news travels fast! Rayehan then, on a last ditch attempt went across the road to another school – third time lucky. She asked if we could play Pingpong-shua there tomorrow and, to our surprise the caretaker and her family said yes, this would be ok! Finally we had somewhere to play. So, after a wander around town that evening and agreeing to accompany Rayehan to work the next morning we bid farewell. Till tomorrow!
Lanzhou to Turpan
Our train journey form Lanzhou to Turpan was delayed by 4 hours which for us was actually a good thing as we were able to explore more of the town and take the cable car up the hills looking over the city. The city of Lanzhou was not one either of us had heard of before we had to travel there but was huge with a population of over 4 million, if this city was placed in Europe it would be the second largest. Quite crazy to think that we have never heard of it, 99% of people we know have probably never heard of it and will are more than likely to never think of hear about it again! The city is situated in a large valley cut by the Yellow river with dry barren hills either side which although look nice, help trap all the nasties emitted by the factories making in one of the worlds most polluted cities. Luckily we able to buy sleeper tickets out of this place for the next day as despite its size there was nothing to do other than take the cable car up the view and to breath some clean air above the smog.
The train journey was unlike any others we have had so far in China! For a start the train carriage was not full, so far this has been unheard of but was very welcome! The attendants were very attentive and our section was kept very clean throughout the journey, even the toilets had not been crapped all over 30 mins into the journey (although mothers were still making kids wee into the wash sinks and in the gap between the carriages….. why??) The view was for the first time in China not blocked by fog, smog, pollution or rain…. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. The route took us through the length of Gansu skirting Qunchai province, also known as ‘Chinas Siberia’ for its Gulags and nuclear testing/dumping grounds and into Xian Jiang province which has been like arriving in a new country!
Arriving in Xian Jiang has really been amazing, finally we have left behind the generic white tiled Chinese city and arrived somewhere with some real culture! Xian Jiang is located in Chinas extreme western areas and has always been a difficult area for them to control, its history is full of various uprisings and rebellions against Chinese rule, the latest being in 1997, 2000 and 2001. Of course now with the US showing the world you can do what you want with people if you label them a terrorist thousands of Uighurs have been locked up or executed post 9.11 to stop any seperatist movement and to scare the population into obedience. The original local people here are Uighurs, musleum and are more Central Asian than Chinese something which the government in Beijing has tried to counteract by flooding the region with Han Chinese settlers in a similar fasion to Tibet. In 2000 Beijing launched a ‘develop the west’ campaign offering Han Chinese from the west financial and social incentives to move the province which has apparently caused a lot of tension.
Turpan is an oasis town and was a regular stop on the ancient silk road. It is the second lowest place in the world after the dead sea and is also Chinas hottest inhabeted town, the hottest temperature on record is 49.5c! Our first day here has been stunning. The train station is in a neighbouring town about 60km away, from here we caught a bus which drove through the blistering desert further and further down into the huge depression the town is in. The town is famous throughout china for its grapes which grown everywhere here, along with other fruits. It really feels like we are no longer in china here, the people are different and the writing is in an Arabic type script. The market was filled with people listening to Kyrgiz music and watching bollywood or Pakistani films. The food is Central asian with mutton kebabs and great big naans covered in chilli powder and ground cumin, the market was a riot of new sounds and smells, a far cry from the crap tacky repetitive nature of the Chinese markets and streets. We stopped and spoke to many people on our walk about town this evening, none of them trying to con or sell us anything just people who were interested in who we are and where we were from. People stopped to check us out but instead of staring with their mouths open and laughing at us they smiled and said hello which has been great. The people we spoke to were so nice introducing us to everyone and showing us around town, helping us to buy food and teaching us some Uighur – this evening we have had none of the nationalistic bullshit we heard every time we spoke to a Chinese person which is such a relief.
Before sunset we also cycled to an old mosque with an afghan style minaret which was a great sight, made out of mud and straw in 1777 in a beautiful backdrop of grape fields and mud brick housing. The journey their took us past ancient burial sites, grape fields, mud houses and lots of donkey carts!
So far after our first day our only regrets about coming here is we that we didn’t do it a month ago! Its an amazing place with some truly amazing people!
The train journey was unlike any others we have had so far in China! For a start the train carriage was not full, so far this has been unheard of but was very welcome! The attendants were very attentive and our section was kept very clean throughout the journey, even the toilets had not been crapped all over 30 mins into the journey (although mothers were still making kids wee into the wash sinks and in the gap between the carriages….. why??) The view was for the first time in China not blocked by fog, smog, pollution or rain…. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. The route took us through the length of Gansu skirting Qunchai province, also known as ‘Chinas Siberia’ for its Gulags and nuclear testing/dumping grounds and into Xian Jiang province which has been like arriving in a new country!
Arriving in Xian Jiang has really been amazing, finally we have left behind the generic white tiled Chinese city and arrived somewhere with some real culture! Xian Jiang is located in Chinas extreme western areas and has always been a difficult area for them to control, its history is full of various uprisings and rebellions against Chinese rule, the latest being in 1997, 2000 and 2001. Of course now with the US showing the world you can do what you want with people if you label them a terrorist thousands of Uighurs have been locked up or executed post 9.11 to stop any seperatist movement and to scare the population into obedience. The original local people here are Uighurs, musleum and are more Central Asian than Chinese something which the government in Beijing has tried to counteract by flooding the region with Han Chinese settlers in a similar fasion to Tibet. In 2000 Beijing launched a ‘develop the west’ campaign offering Han Chinese from the west financial and social incentives to move the province which has apparently caused a lot of tension.
Turpan is an oasis town and was a regular stop on the ancient silk road. It is the second lowest place in the world after the dead sea and is also Chinas hottest inhabeted town, the hottest temperature on record is 49.5c! Our first day here has been stunning. The train station is in a neighbouring town about 60km away, from here we caught a bus which drove through the blistering desert further and further down into the huge depression the town is in. The town is famous throughout china for its grapes which grown everywhere here, along with other fruits. It really feels like we are no longer in china here, the people are different and the writing is in an Arabic type script. The market was filled with people listening to Kyrgiz music and watching bollywood or Pakistani films. The food is Central asian with mutton kebabs and great big naans covered in chilli powder and ground cumin, the market was a riot of new sounds and smells, a far cry from the crap tacky repetitive nature of the Chinese markets and streets. We stopped and spoke to many people on our walk about town this evening, none of them trying to con or sell us anything just people who were interested in who we are and where we were from. People stopped to check us out but instead of staring with their mouths open and laughing at us they smiled and said hello which has been great. The people we spoke to were so nice introducing us to everyone and showing us around town, helping us to buy food and teaching us some Uighur – this evening we have had none of the nationalistic bullshit we heard every time we spoke to a Chinese person which is such a relief.
Before sunset we also cycled to an old mosque with an afghan style minaret which was a great sight, made out of mud and straw in 1777 in a beautiful backdrop of grape fields and mud brick housing. The journey their took us past ancient burial sites, grape fields, mud houses and lots of donkey carts!
So far after our first day our only regrets about coming here is we that we didn’t do it a month ago! Its an amazing place with some truly amazing people!
Xian
Way back before Beijing was the ruling city of China, Xian was the boss, a thriving city of emperors, poets, monks merchants and soldiers, a place where chinas culture apparently reached an apogee of creativitiy and sophistication. The end of the silk road the city has long been an important trading post, protecting it there were once huge walls that enclosed 83 sq km of palaces, temples and grand buildings. The area was home to the capitals of several major dynasties (11 apparently) stretching back all the way to the 11C BC . Sounds impressive eh? Well don’t get your hopes up like we did as almost none of it has survived and the city is the same as other Chinese cities - big boring concrete buildings and large wide streets for the high levels of traffic. If it wasn’t for the big walls enclosing the city (which have recently been rebuilt for the tourists and are a 1/7 of their former glory), a very few buildings that might pass as old (you know, old to an American) and the large muslim population then you could be forgiven for thinking the city was a creation of the past 50 years. As many people still rely on the cheap pressed coal dust blocks for fuel, and the streets are stuffed full of traffic you can literally chew the air in Xian. Within a few hours even the most healthy person has a sore throat, runny nose and is reaching for some kind of extra oxygen canister.
Quick list of the things we did in Xian.
- Visited the Terracotta warriors – found in the countryside about 1.5 hours outside of Xian by a farmer digging a well. Didn’t realize they had all been smashed up by rebels once the emperor had died, so all the warriors you see have been glued back together.
- Cycled the old walls
- Visited chinas largest musical fountain
- Spent lots of time trying to buy train tickets
- Ate Muslim food
That’s about it I think
Quick list of the things we did in Xian.
- Visited the Terracotta warriors – found in the countryside about 1.5 hours outside of Xian by a farmer digging a well. Didn’t realize they had all been smashed up by rebels once the emperor had died, so all the warriors you see have been glued back together.
- Cycled the old walls
- Visited chinas largest musical fountain
- Spent lots of time trying to buy train tickets
- Ate Muslim food
That’s about it I think
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