Chinese Language Blog

Located roughly 250 km from the borders of Afghanistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and  Pakistan, Kashgar or 喀什 (Kāshí) is a border city of approximately million people located in western Xinjiang Province. The surrounding countryside is almost all desert, with average temperatures sea-sawing between extremely frigid colds and scorching heat (sometimes both happening within 24 hours). It is the cultural center of the Uighur population, an ethnic minority of muslims from the Caucus mountain range.

Within the city limits, the natural oasis and spring water provides irrigation, agriculture and grazing land for livestock turning this patch of desert land into a pit stop paradise for wayward travelers. Due to its geographic location between China and Central Asia, it became a major stop along the Silk Road for those looking to stock up on supplies.

During the Han Dynasty, Kashgar played an important role as a frontier city for trade and cultural exchange. By establishing what is now generally referred to as the Northern Silk Route, the Chinese had cemented their presence in central Asia while opening up lines to the Middle East and beyond. As the Han Chinese expanded westward they required tributes from neighboring lands and regions. In exchange, the Chinese would share technology and trade routes as incentives for continued business.

By the 1st century AD, merchants from across Asia were calling Kashgar a temporary home as they traversed the vast desert. With those merchants came their respective cultures and creeds, including many eastern religions that have left an indelible mark on the Silk Road. Up through the Tang Dynasty, the influx of Buddhist pilgrims influenced many followers to convert within the city. Daoism and Confucianism also made their way west from central China. Centuries later Islam would come to dominate the religion in this area. However, in this transitional time peroid (7th and 8th centuries), Kashgar was without a true identity as a series of conflicts among the Mongols, Chinese and Turkic tribes fragmented the region, left the region a scattered mix of various tribes, cultures and ethnicities.

Amidst subjugation and infighting, Kashgar faltered, and didn’t emerge again as powerhouse of trade until Arab conquest of the late 8th and 9th centuries. While Islam was charging across the Middle East and up into Central Asia, the Silk Road acted as an ancient “super highway” spreading Muslim culture throughout the region. By the late 10th century Kashgar and its followers had almost all converted to Islam under prince Sultan Satuq Bughra Khan, establishing the Uighur Kingdom.

The Uighur Kingdom, while short lived in rule, established many of the rules and customs of Uighur culture that are still practiced today. While power, influence and control of land shifted back and forth among the Turks, Mongolians, and Chinese, people within Xinjiang and Kashgar remained true to their Silk Road roots.

These people, known as Uighurs–维吾尔族人 (wéi wú ěr zú rén) or 维语 (wéi wú) for short [Uighur: قەشقەر‎] have continued to carry out the same traditions and practices that existed nearly a millenium ago. Because of their adherence to Turkic rituals and very strong traditions of practice and observance within the muslim faith, the Uighurs are quite unique to the rest of China’s ethnic makeup. While their roots are nomadic, Uighur society is strengthened around Muslim beliefs and as a result have a very strong sense of community. Their culture has existed for thousands of years without having to change much and the people take pride in this fact.

In modern day Kashgar, the city is divided entirely by two distinct ethnic lines, between the developing, metropolitan Han Chinese population and the isolated, almost pre-industrial population of the Uighurs. Kashgar is famous for its Uighur livestock market (see photos below) where traders and farmers conduct an ancient system of bartering–using only their hands. Check it out (at 0:30):

Once you’ve wandering through the endless acres of cattle and livestock, you can head on over to the Kasghar Bizarre which I can only describe as a gargantuan open air complex of lean-to stalls snaking endlessly through a labyrinth of Muslim architecture.

The place is massive. Anything you need–literally anything–you can find at this bizarre. While I couldn’t pick up on the hand bartering system in my short stay, I soon found that everything at the bizarre had a “just fell off a truck” price to it. Just watch your wallet and  be prepared to barter like you’ve never  bartered before, this time in a combination of English and Chinese and broken Uighur phrases.

Outside of the bizarre and markets sits the “Old City” of Kashgar where the majority of Uighur residents live. This area has a timelessness to it that makes you feel as if you were transported some centuries back. Mosques are everywhere and so is evidence of a strongly muslim culture. Because of centuries of conflict and the desire for autonomy, “Old City” Kashgar has stagnated economically–by simply not being involved in the modern economy.

Poverty is apparent on every street and stands as a strong reminder that without a strong muslim social safety net, many people here would starve.While on aggregate China’s GDP booms and incomes rise, this part of China is stuck looking in from the outside, waiting for a chance when growth and development will come Kashgar’s way. Questions still remain: how long can the Uighurs sit idly by as tension and restlessness continues to rise? Is it independence or inclusion that people are after?

No doubt you’ve heard  of the riots and violence that has dominated headlines in Xinjiang for the last decade. Social unrest is a constant problem in these areas where unemployment, poverty, substance abuse and radicalization of Islam are becoming incredibly taxing on development. The disconnect between Han and Uighur culture has forced a societal rift between neighbors of the same city. Ironic that a millennium ago Kashgar was the forefront of cultural exchange and diversity. Now it’s a tale of two cities–one past and one present.

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The Taklamakan Desert or 塔克拉玛干沙漠 (Tǎkèlāmǎgān Shāmò), is the world’s 17th largest desert (and one of the largest sandy deserts), running north-south throughout western Xinjiang, Mongolia and even parts of Russia and Afghanistan.

It is bordered by the KunLun mountains to the south and the Tianshan (later post) to the north. Taklamakan is a cold desert, elevated more than a mile above sea level, causing extreme fluctuation in temperatures between day and night. Yet for how inhospitable the climate is, people have roamed these lands for millennium, carving out a unique way of life that continues today.

In the central northern region of the Taklamakan desert rests  Lake Karakul  or  喀拉库勒湖, located nearly 3600 meters above sea level. Amidst this dry high plains environment, Lake Karakul sits as an oasis, providing a constant water supply for local plants, animals, herds and native people. The countryside is quite barren and rugged, populated sparsely by herds of goats and yaak along with some scrub brush. However, the vistas are beautiful as the Karakul valley is surrounded by mountain peaks well over 5,000 and in some cases 6,000 meters high.

Locals are primarily migratory herdsmen that move with the seasons throughout the high plains. Like migratory peoples of North America, they rely on transportable houses, similar to tee pees, called yurts. Yurts or 毡帐 (zhānzhàng) are made to be highly mobile, highly wind resistant, and…well moderately warm. They are more dome-like than teepee-shaped and are much sturdier built to handle the elements.

While the Yurt is traditionally a Mongolian design, its influence has extended throughout Northwestern China, Xinjiang and even into Central Asia. Due to its Mongolian roots, many of the customs and religions that Yurt people follow are less Chinese and Muslim and more nomadic and tribal. Like in Tibet, there is a “Cowboy Culture” that comes along with Yurt dwellers, who yearn for the frontier, fresh air and serenity. Like in Kashgar, you get a distinct feeling that these people prefer to exist outside the reach of the Chinese government and Han Culture. Out here on these plains, you fend for yourself.

Be forewarned though–life up here in these high desert plains is no joke and can take quite a toll on ill-prepared travelers. For example, after an exhausting climb upwards into 5000 meter territory, followed by a yak milk-liquor and yak-stew meal, half of our group had taken turn for the worse, experiencing the beginning stages of altitude sickness (imagine the worst headache/body ache of your life coupled with nausea, fatigue and dizziness). While I was lucky enough to avoid the illness, many of my fellow travelers found themselves in a bad state, hundreds of miles from the nearest hospital or clinic and wishing for basic amenities.

As night fell, the desert temperature nose-dived to sub-zero temperatures and the wind turned into icy daggers. Inside the yurts, a small stove would burn throughout the night, but to little effect. Even buried deep under mounds of blankets, rugs and furs (which are sprawled across the floor of the yurt), the cold cut straight through me. As our dejected band of travelers shivered our way through the night, we all were thinking the same thing: how long before sunrise?

When the first rays came streaming through the cracks in our yurt door, we eagerly set out to explore the surrounding village of about 80 people, sharing bottles of baijiu, yak stew and cigarettes while we played pool on a lopsided table.

Most of the men were either herders, mechanics or “tour guides”, which meant their livelihoods were all inexplicably tied to motor cycles or 摩托车  (mó tuō chē). Cars can barely make it through the dirt paths (our bus got stuck on multiple occasions) and washout roads, so transport usually happens either on horse or camel back, on foot or on a motor bike.

Additionally, all electricity, water and plumbing is self-sustained, as a makeshift wind turbine (see gallery) powered almost all of the villages lighting needs. Water had to be pumped in from wells or purified from the lake. Guard and herd dogs (quite feral to be honest) roamed the alleyways and yards searching for anything edible to eat and all but attacking any 老外 that made direct eye contact or offered a hand to pet. Here, no one wore a watch and almost everyone seemed to be in a perpetual “work break”. Business here (in chinese 事情 [shì qing]) happens on the locals’ terms–when they were good and ready–so I resigned myself to follow their lead and hangout for a spell.

When asked what they do for fun other than pool and cards, one self proclaimed “cowboy” (牛仔 [niúzǎi]) responded by deftly flicking his Playboy Aviator sun glasses from his hat to his eyes while simultaneous lighting up a cigarette and exclaiming, “Clint Eastwood!” while motioning to himself. He then walked over to his raggedy 150 cc bike, kick started it and proceeded to rev of the engine, saying, “horse”. I think I may have just discovered China’s official “Marlboro Man” .

Our last night at the lake ended with–you guessed it–more yak stew and heavy drinking. I soon figured out that, in this climate, a combination of fatty yak meat and hearty stews coupled with strong drink are necessary to brave the frigid nights.

Thus the “喝杯 yurt bomb” (the Xinjiang version of an Irish Car Bomb) became a staple drink of our time spent in in Xinjiang, which requires only a beer and a bottle of baijiu mixed with yak milk. As “Clint” showed us, all you have to do is take a swig of beer and hold it in your mouth saving a little space for step two. Next, while still “gargling” the beer, take a pull of baijiu or yak jiu, mix it all together by shaking your head violently, then swallow and enjoy. After you start feeling that fire in your belly, these great plain nights don’t feel so bad…that is…until you step outside.

See Gallery below:

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In the high desert plains of northern China, water dictates development. Nowhere can this be better illustrated than in Dunhuang or 敦煌 (Dūn huáng), one of the largest oasis-cities in Gansu Province or 甘肃 (Gān sù).

Dunhuang roughly translates as “blazing beacon” in Chinese, a moniker it bestowed upon it as the terminus of the Great Wall into western China. The surrounding area includes the Crescent Lake and Mingsha Shan (鸣沙山) mountain range which roughly translates as “Echoing-Sand Mountain” due to the eerie sound created by strong winds whipping over sand dunes (沙丘 shā qiū).

Dunhuang is most famous for the Mogao Cave Grottoes or 莫高窟 (mò gāo kū), the Yardang National Geological Park and its singing sand dunes. Much like Kashgar, Dunhuang benefits from a natural oasis, allowing for sustained agriculture and development to occur for centuries. During the early ADs, it became a focal point of migratory Buddhists who deemed the area  as “mystical” due to its singing sand dunes, odd rock formations and availability of water in this harsh desert.

During the mid 4th century AD, Lè Zūn (樂尊), a notable Buddhist monk, envisioned setting up camp here by excavating caves and rooms of worship in the Mogao Grottoes. His goal was to provide a location for pilgrims to rest and meditate at while seeking spirituality. Over a millennium, these temple caves multiplied as pilgrims, artisans and monks left elaborate murals, sculptures and paintings within the 1000 individual caves and chambers.

Yet in the 11th century, for whatever reasons, the mural, sculpture and cave entrances were walled off, and remained buried until the early 20th century. Luckily, the arid geography and weather, kept these caves very well intact, sealing these relics in a natural tomb.

When rediscovered in the early 20th Century, huge stock piles of Buddhist, Confucian, Daoist and even Christian works littered the caves, with manuscripts dating from the early 300′s to the late 1100′s. Today, inside the caves, many of these wall paintings and sculptures still remain, allowing for tourists and travellers to explore the stone labrynths for a small fee.

Unfortunately, it is strongly urged not to photograph these majestic murals, sculpture and paintings, so I can only provide you with a top ten list of the largest attractions within Mogao by clicking here. Suffice it to say, the Mogao Grottoes are a must-see destination if in Gansu Province.

About a two hour ride outside of Dunhuang city proper, you can marvel at yet another grouping of rock formations–but this time they are not man made.

The Yardang National Geological Park, situated in the Gobi Desert, houses “yardangs” or pillars of jutting lime and sandstone caused by wind erosion from desert winds (they’re called yardangs because they generally resemble the shape of a ship). The results are sphinx or tower like columns of sandstone that jut meters above, seemingly ascending from the desert sand below. In this location, tourists can wonder the arid grounds, climbing rocks and snapping photos, or they can venture inside (where there is AC) to get a “geological history” of the area. *As a brief side note, this location was used in the desert fight scene of Hero (英雄) staring Jet Li.*

And away I go...

After wandering around through the desert all day in the blazing sun, you may want to pick an evening activity that lets you cool off and relax. What better place than the Mingsha Shan mountain range and sand dunes where you can experience the “singing sand dunes” while watching the majestic sunset over the mountains. Just remember to bring a jacket, because the temperatures will plummet once the last rays are choked off by the hills.

If you are a thrill seeker, right by the Mingsha Shan mountain range is a little oasis at Crescent Lake where you boat, ride camels and even go sand-dune sledding (see above photo). Just make sure you hold on tight–unless you want a mouthful of sand hitting you at 30 miles per hour.

See the Gallery below:

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