Category China adventures

Since we finally had an apartment we were free to start looking for jobs. We set about looking in the obvious places for expats living abroad, craigslist, the Beijinger, CityWeekend and other Beijing-specific websites with classified ads. In Shanghai in 2008 I found my job on Craigslist, proving that even legitimate,professional companies post on the plebeian forums. We began to stalk the classifieds in search of employment.

Harry, our British room mate, worked at a reputable English-teaching company across town. Andrew found one-on-one teaching gigs to fill his wallet. Mike and Lauren wanted to avoid teaching English if at all possible, having already experienced the joy of teaching in Beijing we were eager to try something new and also add a new skill set on the ol’ resume. They began to search for jobs in their desired fields, holding out for a decent paying opportunity. Lauren went to four interviews and turned down four jobs due to low pay or immoral practices. One job doing marketing for an online sales company was in the final phases of negotiating the contract when Lauren learned that the goods sold online were counterfeits being peddled as legitimate, she turned down a position paying $3,000 a month. Eventually, both found positions they could enjoy for a short time while refilling their bank accounts and learning new skills.

Teaching English in China is fairly simple and extremely straight forward. Most companies are seeking people who have a bachelors degree, though they will make exceptions. They are looking for native English speakers, though again, they make exceptions and are sometimes seeking Spanish, German and French native speakers. A TOFEL is not required, but it is helpful and in higher paying companies (like Wallstreet, Berlitz and EnglishFirst) it is a huge bargaining chip. You can find more information on our resources page about TOFEL programs.

To read how to apartment hunt in Beijing, check out our previous post on the issue!

Having decided to stay in Beijing for a while, we set bout organizing ourselves to look for an apartment. We were determined to stay in the central area of Beijing, right in the middle of the expat community. Sanlitun is a great area, near the shopping, bars, restaurants and other expats. It is a great area to live about 10 minutes from, which is where we started looking. We wanted a traditional, small-town Chinese community with a courtyard and trees. We also wanted to be near the subway and have access to fresh air and sunlight (meaning, high up in an apartment). With such in mind, we got online and started looking for apartments. It turned out that apartment hunting in Beijing was a different beast than the relatively easy process in Shanghai.

First, we combed the online site listings, which revealed a more expensive bracket of apartments than we really needed. We discovered that Andrew, the Oklahoma boy from the Mongol Rally, was also staying in Beijing for a while, so we joined forces to find an apartment for three, and then, when another friend at the hostel joined the group, we started looking for four-person apartments. This dramatically decreased our options since the one-child policy means most apartments have only two bedrooms and, if lucky, an office room.

Nevertheless, we decided to meet with a man renting his apartment online. We showed up only to discover it was actually a crooked realtor who was planning on charging one months rent in commission to show the apartment for his ‘friend.’ We waited until the realtor left and told the actual owner we’d take the apartment, he declined unless we paid a fee to the realtor, which we declined to do. After several more days of looking we found a two bedroom with an office in our price range. A different, semi-crooked realtor only wanted half a months rent for commission. Thing got convoluted quickly when the actual owner failed to materialize and in her place came a small army of men and women in suits claiming to represent her. Despite the annoyance of dealing with two different sets of middle men, we decided to get the apartment. It was in a great location with a decent interior and furniture, and room for 4 people, albeit barely. This picture is from our balcony, and shows a bit of the infamous Beijing pollution.

Note: If you are looking for an apartment in Beijing, your best bet is to check the Beijinger and CityWeekend online and in print, and beware that most postings are by crooked realtors looking to take a higher commission rate off foreigners. You can also go through a local real estate company. First, you find the area you want to live in and then walk around and look for a real estate office. There is one on every major road or in most residential areas. Often, there will be an office just for a specific building or complex, and you can cut out come commission costs by going directly to the one you want.

Next time: Job Hunting in Beijing, China!

Arriving as we did in the middle of the night we had an epic sense of adventure attached to our return to China. Adding to that feeling was the fact that several ralliers were to be in the city for the next week. We got in touch with them, though they were eager to see the sights (Great Wall of China, Forbidden City and the obvious tourist stuff). We met up and went shopping with Justin, from Seattle, and two American boys from Oklahoma named Cody and Andrew. Chris, the Irishman that was a member of our Mongolian convoy, was also in town. We met and shopped, ate and generally explored New Beijing. We moved into the same hostel so we could occupy our evenings in the hostel dining hall playing jenga and smoking apple-flwvored hookahs.

Much has changed in China’s capital city since we last lived here in 2006. The Olympics, which we visited in 2008, were a huge factor. But general improvements around the city have made Beijing the figurative and literal capital. We lived in Haidian, a north-western fringe area where the universities are. We taught English at a private company there and lived in a tiny apartment that cost less than 2000RMB a month for the company to maintain. In winter, there was no heat and no air in summer. We had a pet rabbit. This time we were staying in the eastern-central area of Beijing, right in the center of the expat community. We were looking for an apartment in this area, where prices have risen around 2000 per apartment since 2006. Food, living costs, entertainment costs all went up, but an exploration of the Beijing expat job market revealed that salaries haven’t really done likewise.

More importantly, the changes were positive, obvious and refreshing. The streets are much cleaner and there is even a street-sweeping machine that goes down the main roads daily. The trash is picked up daily, and efficiently. Shopping centers are more organized, isles are wider and the people pushing carts down them are polite and smiling. The general dislike of foreigners seems to have abated. Likewise, most foreigners we saw in the first few days in Beijing were fluent in Chinese. In 2006 a fluent foreigner was an extremely rare thing. Now, 4 years later, an incompetent foreigner with a Beijing zip code is more rare.

We spent the week hitting Beijing’s highlights, souvenir shopping with the ralliers, and enjoying our relaxing post-rally down time. Having been in a cramped, tiny, dusty car for the past month, it was a relaxing change of pace.

Come back soon to read about apartment and job hunting in Beijing, as well as the trials and tribulations of dealing with a corrupt realtor.

The euphoria at being back in a land where we could speak the language, knew the customs and food, and already felt comfortable was beyond description. We sat, discussing our options, until the wee hours of the morning. A friend had agreed to let us stay with him until we decided what we were going to do. We took him up on his offer and moved into his living room.

Walking around Beijing was like returning home after a long trip. We’ve spent time in China, in our adult lives we’ve probably spent more time in China than in America, and the comfort of knowing where things are, how to get things done, and how to be comfortable were almost irresistible. The original plan was to visit friends in Beijing and Shanghai and then head to South-East Asia and eventually make it to Thailand where we’d learn a new country and a new way of life. Yet now, in Beijing, we were so eager to stay. Mike wanted to learn Chinese, to become fluent in a language he’d been learning off and on for a few years. Lauren wanted to refill her bank account with a little work, and spend some time in one place. They had been on the road for over a year and a half, having left their apartment in Shanghai on May Day, 2009. It was now mid September, 2010 and the first time they were asking where they should go.

We checked into a hostel a few days later so as not to bother our working friend by living on his couch. We took a few interviews, saw a few apartments and generally got the low down on what had changed in Beijing since we lived there in 2006. The answer– a lot! Prices were much higher, apartments were harder to find and costed around 2000RMB more a month. Salaries were lower, strangely, and yet food prices were sky rocketing.

We decided we’d like to stay for a while. Should we?– I don’t know. But we talked about it and both decided that Chinese was important to us, as was taking a break in our travels for a little while. We’d make it to South-East Asia soon enough, and in the meantime, we could wait out the winter and maybe even the spring and summer, here in Beijing, China. It is easy to get a job teaching English, and to enroll in a Chinese language school. Finding jobs in Beijing is also fairly straight forward.

Tune in again to learn how to get an apartment in China’s capital city.

With the 2010 Mongol Rally behind us, we found ourselves sitting at a restaurant in Ulaan Bataar, Mongolia, wondering where we should go. Should we head to Thailand, which was the original plan? Or should we hop on a train to China and see where the road takes us? It was hard to say, but after being on the road for a year and a half the idea of getting an apartment and relaxing in one spot for a while seemed more than enticing. It was just such a big decision that we decided to hop across the border and see how we felt.

We had previously met two American brothers, also on the rally, who were planning on heading down to Beijing. Likewise, the Irishman from our convoy was headed that direction and we had heard that several other teams had members heading towards China’s capital. It seemed like the place to be. We walked to the UB train station and discovered one cannot book a train ticket in advance. The American boys handed us some cash and we agreed to buy the tickets the next morning.

In the morning, we discovered you needed a passport to book your tickets, so we booked ours and gave the American’s their cash back. We hopped on the train that afternoon and settled into our crowded alley-way bunks. The Trans-Siberian train was not as impressive as one would think. The bunks were tiny, crowded and the luggage compartments were overflowing. You have to pay for sheets, and the entire train smelled of mold and dust. Despite this, it was great to be back on a locomotive and chugging along at a slow, relaxed pace. I didn’t even miss having the Saxo!

The train reached the small border town the following morning and we jumped off with our luggage and easily caught a bus across the border for a few dollars. Customs and immigration were a bit of a joke on the Mongolian side. The woman barely looked up when she stamped me out of the country along with several other people who had stuffed their passports threw her glass window at the same time. The Chinese customs and immigration were a bit trickier. I was held for a few minutes because the guards said I looked nothing like the photo in the passport. I told them all white people look alike, but they did’t laugh. Apparently I look different now than I did in 2002, and after living in a tiny car for 40 days, its no wonder I didn’t match my image. Eventually they let me through, but our bus had not waited and we were left stranded at the border crossing with our luggage, a mile or two from town.

We set off walking into town thinking it wasn’t a great start to possibly staying in China. But, just as I was grumbling about being left by our Mongolian bus driver, a Chinese driver in a van pulled over and picked us up and drove us to the train station for free. They were friendly and chatted with us the whole way. It was such a good feeling to be able to communicate again, having been useless in Mongolia on the communication front. They were so incredably friendly that they even invited us to their homes, which we declined in favor of catching the night bus to Beijing… but not before we had a breakfast beer at a Chinese chain restaurant we have always enjoyed in the past. Mike’s first epic Breakfast Beer picture in China!

Sleeper buses seem to be specific to Asia. Essentially, everyone gets a bunk-bed sleeper compartment and the top-heavy bus rolls down the street swaying from side to side. It seems dangerous and unsteady, but if you want to sleep over the 12 hour drive it is worth the small upgrade. Our sleeper bus deposited us in the middle of Beijing at 3:00am on a Friday. We walked sleepily to a 24 hour McDonald’s to talk about our options. Where should we go from here?

Tune in next time to find out what we decided…. or if we decided!

Traveling for the past year has been quite an enlightening experience. We left our home in Shanghai on May 1st, 2009 and are still on the road (now in America) traveling and taking in as much as possible from the world’s various and diverse cultures. One thing that has struck me recently is the extreme amount of marketing and advertising in the USA. We’re completely saturated in capitalism, and I don’t say this in a Marxist way, but in a ‘is this a product of our culture, or our political system?’ kind of way.

In China, marketing was only just emerging in full force. I remember distinctly the day cabs in Shanghai were outfitted with miniature TV screens on the back of the driver and passenger seats. They didn’t necessarily even market specific products so much as provide a venue for advertising in the hopes companies would catch on. By the time we left Shanghai come five months after the insulation, we had screeching ads blaring at us as we zoomed across the city.

In the ‘Stans we found a distinct lack of advertising, and in Turkmenistan we were standing at the bus stop one day and it suddenly hit us – “They don’t have Coca Cola here!” It was surprising, and yet wonderfully relieving. Also, the buses were not plastered in erectile dysfunction ads or maxi pad logos. It was also very nice.

Once we reached Europe we were no longer used to seeing ads at all, and were a bit taken aback by the billboards that blocked the view from the train. Although it was done a bit more tastefully than in China, the trains did contain a few little marketing stickers here and there. By and large, we were not overly saturated or bombarded.

In November we entered the USA in Florida and the wave of advertising and marketing was a choking shock. It seemed like too much, too fast, and none of it seemed relevant or even applicable to where it was being advertised. It was almost like companies plaster their logos over as much of the country as possible. Take, for example, Sonic (fast food). They advertise nation wide even though they don’t have restaurants in every state. Or, and this is what really began to irritate me when we returned to the USA, the radio seemed to play about two songs before cutting to 5 commercials, and we found the same to be true of TV. We actually timed it one afternoon while watching a one hour show—15+ minutes of commercials!

In recent weeks the extreme and overt advertising in the US has become a real drag. I’m tired of hearing about all these products. When I finally do get to the store I’m so burnt out on this stuff that I feel inclined to buy the products that advertise the least—thus rewarding them for not annoying me. I feel like I’m a 90 year old grumpy woman with a ‘get off my property’ agenda, but in all honesty cable TV costs a lot of money, why do I still have to listen to commercials? I have to pay for internet, so why do I still have to look at ads? Isn’t there a way to get these irritating marketing people out of my life?—the temporary solution is, at least for now, to head back overseas where I happily have no idea what new flavor Coca Cola is launching, or which washing detergent has more or less H20 in it. I also don’t want to know which cell phone company covers more of America, as I’ll never get a cell phone again (those horrible, soulless companies) nor which deodorant leaves less white crap on my black shirts (they all clog your pores with aluminum and eventually cause lymph nodes to be blocked). Anyways, I want out of this world of saturated media, and back into a place Coca-Cola free.

Cover Art

If you have ever been to China, then Lost on Planet China will be full of inside jokes only you and other China travelers will understand. His insight into the psyche of the Chinese was amusing and comical, but hardly deep. It would be fair to say that more than half of the book was taken with Troost’s comical musings on the Chinese way of life, with the remaining bit concerned with telling where and what he was up to while romping around the Middle Kingdom.

Troost, who is perhaps most well known for his forays on lost islands, isolated from humanity. Now he has traveled from serenity to the world’s most populated country, and at times his frustration with the density of human life is apparent. While many may feel this is a drawback to the book, anyone who has been to China can laugh along with him as he remains frustrated at people pushing him in line, cutting him on the subway and spitting all over ever piece of bare land.

He considers briefly bringing his family to China with him, but decides against it due to the excessive amount of pollution he encounters during his travels, and that’s not to say he didn’t try to find a breath of fresh air while in Asia. Having lived in China for several years, Troost was apt in his assessment of the state of air in China, but he is also a bit jaded since he spent such a large amount of time on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean—aka the epitome of a fresh air location.

Troost has a very unique writing style. At first it was hard to get into, but after a chapter or two his cheeky textual habits become cute in a quirky way. Having read another book of his, The Sex Lives of Cannibals, which describes his time in Kiribati, I feel that not only has his writing improved, but his sense of humor has expanded a great deal, making his new book a pleasure to read.

Chinese and American Flags

Many folks in very important acronym-named think tanks spend their days thinking about the China versus America issue. I wish they would contact me; I could solve their dilemmas for them with relative ease since I’ve lived in both countries and am an avid complainer and comparison maker. This is an impressive title, but way too long for a business card which is why you’ve probably never heard of me in this capacity.

Let’s discuss employment on the China versus America issue, since that is a hot topic in both countries at present. China is an amazing place to live as an expat, and that is the side of China I have known over the past few years. Naturally I’m living in the upper middle class by Chinese standards while I’m there, so for the vast majority of Chinese, my opinions may seem elitist and literally ass backwards. I’m okay with that since I’ve given this disclaimer. I easily found work in China, decently paying, legal and taxed work as an editor at a bank complete with benefits, a swivel chair and a key card that beeped when you held it near the door.

I’ve lived in America as a child, and as a college student, but have spent less than a year as a gainfully employed American. This is partially because I have never been able to find work in the USA. I worked a few odd jobs in college and found a ridiculous post-grad school job that made me want to razor burn my eyeballs, but aside form that all I do is collect polite rejection letters. In the words of the late Kurt Vonnegut, “So it goes…” Yet the economy in the US is dropping like gravity has a hold of it while the situation in China is, in relative terms, defying gravity. Employing myself in any major city in China would be as easy as showing up with some resumes, a nice suit and the ability to speak my native tongue without drooling on myself.

Let’s tackle one additional hot topic in the China versus America issue – health care. In China I got pneumonia and spent $13 USD on a doctor’s visit, X-ray, analysis, blood work, analysis again, examination, more analysis and then medication. That’s $13 total to cure me of pneumonia and over two hours of office face time with doctors and lab folks. And by the way, I got all of my results within that two hours, including blood work and x-ray sheets. With surprising irony, I also got pneumonia in America a few years ago. The doctor met with me for five seconds, said I sounded funny when she put a stethoscope against my back and then wrote a prescription on a sticky pad. Comparatively, the later experience was like getting a medical check from a caveman.  The cost for my America visit nearly gave me an aneurysm (which, by the way, I could never afford in the USA)! Most intelligent folks will be saying, and yes I can hear you yelling through the world wide web’s invisible tubes, that China’s costs are lower due to the sheer volume of people paying for these goods and services. That’s true! I’m not here to argue, I’m just here to say that if I ever get sick again I’ll be standing in line in a Chinese hospital more confident and happy than if I was anywhere in the USA where doctors just prescribe you a drug and then slam the door in your face. I have no opinion on the health care debate now stalled in the US government except to say that I would hope we could come up with something better than bankrupting people for antiquated care and over-drugging them so they don’t care.

That’s all for this addition of China versus America. Tune in next time to hear my thoughts on freedom of press and gender equality. Fun, fun, fun!

Snow

From the Beijing Train Station to the corrupt police on the far Eastern route of the Russian Trans-Siberian Railroad, the 2008 movie Transsiberian was enjoyable to watch having dealt with many of the same problems…ok minus the kidnapping part.  Not so much for the plot as for the accuracy the movie portrayed when depicting a couples ride on a Chinese train and problems with Russian police.  Although we did not go on the Trans-Siberian…yet, the movie was thrilling to watch as an American couple from Iowa, Woody Harrelson and Emily Mortimer, left the Beijing Zhan (station) headed for Moscow via a 6 day journey on the Trans-Siberian Railway.  The train-station, gray colored everything, sleeper cars, and food carriages, were right on and I would believe it was filmed on location.

Emily Mortimer’s character was always planning a new route or travel adventure and walked around with a Cannon Digital camera around her neck throughout the whole film – which reminded me a lot of Lauren.  The broken sleeper-car knobs that wouldn’t turn off terrible Russian music, the shared cars with strangers, the rude and short tempered train attendants, drug smugglers, and corrupt cops were a direct parallel to our experiences en route from China through Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan.  Although the plot got extremely more creepy in comparison to the things that happened to Lauren and I, if you have traveled throughout the former Soviet Union, Russia, China by train, or are interested to see what it looks like, I think people would find certain aspects of this couple’s travel accurate.

Going through Kazakhstan we were hiding from the police as their boarded our train trying to avoid paying bribes, watching all the drug smugglers hide taped packages to their stomachs or under their beds, and arguing with the grumpy train attendants. Our train travel in China was pretty easy going and we had no problems, but the movie gave a good atmosphere to some of the fears you develop as you go into less safe areas ruled by corrupt cops and officials.

For a more detailed clip go to:  Transsiberian Part I – watch from 4:10 to about 9:00 to see a little bit of what it was like.

As you know, we’ve spent the last two months in Turkmenistan putting back on some of the weight we lost in Kazakhstan, and relaxing in the desert sunshine. While on holiday in the least hospitable deserts in the world, we took the downtime as an opportunity to order more gear and rearrange the stuff we have to make it more manageable on the onward journey.

Lauren’s backpack (a knock-off from China) broke 30 seconds into the trip. She bought a new one in Shanghai and it broke approximately 6 days into the trip. The lesson here: never buy knock-offs from China– they have a serious quality control problem! So, while in Turkmenistan Lauren spent her mornings doing yoga to fix the crooked spine she received carrying a 50lb. bag on one strap, and spent the evenings reading reviews on women’s expedition packs. Her new bag, an REI venus expedition bag, is amazing. It has a front-loader feature, more room, a bottom tie-on strap and a fully adjustable carry system designed for women. She is happy now, and with some of the weight removed, her 40lb, fitted bag is perfect.

In addition to the pack, Lauren ordered a three-man tent from REI (thanks to her father, who paid for that AND the awesome pack for her). The Marmot tent  we finally settled on is easy to assemble and clean, and very compact. We tested the tent in the desert on four occasions and are very happy with the quality. It is a two season tent designed for warm weather, so you can actually lay in the tent and see the stars through the mesh top. Way cool.

Since we have a tent, we needed sleeping bags. Lauren’s father also supplied those, a survival kit, and a super-nifty all-purpose camp pot to boil water in for soups and coffee. Mike purchased an mini stove with fuel tablets as well, so we are now carrying all of our food, accomedation, bedding and clothing, and a small library.

“Why are you carrying a library on your back?” you might ask. The answer is that we ordered the Lonely Planet guides for every country we’ll be going through. We need them for the maps, primarily, but also for information on visas and border crossings. You’d be surprised how much they come in handy.

While in Turkmenistan we mailed some of the things we were not using back to the States. We mailed half of our clothing, a giant pile of rocks we collected from the trip (“why were we carrying these?”) Lauren’s guitar covered in stickers from her family, and about 10 books and half of our medical kit. We discovered when it comes to carrying your house on your back, you want the smallest possible amount of stuff. Very zen, if you think about it.

Here is what we are carrying now:

• Sleeping bags
• Tent
• Lonely Planet books
• Two pants each
• Four shirts each
• Swimsuits
• Hiking boots/ water sandals
• Shampoo/bar of soap/ bar of laundry detergent/toothpaste/brushes
• Medical kit/ survival kit
• I-touch/ camera/ laptop (Lauren needs all there for work)
• Cooking kit: pot/ mini stove/ cup / chopsticks
• Food: power bars/ dehydrated soup/ ramen
• Passports and copies of passports / important contact info / visa copies

Arrival in Ashgabat

Originally, the trip was planned as a Shanghai to Ashgabat adventure. Well, we have an announcement to make—we have decided to keep on going. Since this was our original destination, here are some updates on the stats so far.

Total miles by land: 13,136 miles by land
Number of countries visited: 4
Total amount spent: $882 per person
Number of days on the road: 43
Amount spend per day based on total amount and days on the road: $20.50
Total number of currencies used/traded: 6 (RMB, KZT, USD, UZS, TMM, AZM)
Number of lost items: 3 (Mike’s sandals, Mike USB, Lauren cell phone (later recovered!)
Number of mosquito bites: Lauren 14 and two bee stings, Mike 6
Number of bouts of food poisoning: Lauren two, Mike one
Bribes paid: Two (Kazakhstan)
Number of trains taken: 7
Number of border checks: 6
Number of crappy batteries gone through: 6
Number of cities seen: 10
Number of buses taken: 5
Number of pictures taken: 3,800 (14.3 GB), 95 in Shanghai, 56 + 77 + 43 on the rail, 259 in Urumqi, 422 in Kashgar, 96 in Yarkand, 307 at Lake Karakul and Tashkurgan, 100 in Almaty, 394 in Tashkent, 142 Chorsu Lake, 661 in Samarkand, 647 in Bukhara, 523 in Khiva, 378 at Urgench Fortresses
Number of cars taken: 29 (cabs, mostly)
Number of guesthouses/hostels: 10
Number of hotels: 1
Number of other American travelers we’ve met: 3 (two traveling male friends starting law school soon and one very interesting woman traveling solo for over a year

Yarkand Blacksmith in Old Town

Although our time was limited, I did not want to leave out our day trip from Kashgar to Yarkand. Albeit a late entry, Yarkand was a significant city and part of the southern silk road pass around the Taklimakan desert. We purchased tickets at the long distance bus station in Kashgar for the 3 1/2 hour ride to Yarkand on the outskirts of the Taklimakan Desert. This bus drove around Kashgar for over an hour looking for people for the one-way trip through the scorching desert basin between Kashgar and Yarkand. Rumbling along while listening to Chinese and Uyghur songs on repeat, we were surprised to see that the railroad was being extended from Kashgar to Yarkand. Migrant workers were digging up the desert in preparation for laying the rails.

I checked Marco Polo’s description of Yarkand and it was, like several other entries…brief. The most memorable statement he noted about Yarkand was that he was surprised by the large population suffering from goiter (a swelling of the Thyroid caused by a lack of iodine in the diet). I did not notice any issues several hundred years later as surprisingly, Yarkand looks similar to other modernized Chinese cities. As we pulled into the bus station, I was hoping to see rolling sand dunes and bazaars, but was disappointed as I saw paved roads and cars. Instead, Yarkhand was a moderately well-developed Chinese city. More than half of the population was Han Chinese and there was a large PLA (People’s Liberation Army) base in the North central part of town.

Yarkand can easily be seen in about one day. The gem of the city is the central mosque, which is located right next to the Old Town. There was more starring going on here than other places we had been recently and it was not surprising that these people didn’t see too many foreigners coming through. After seeing the parts of Old Town in Kashgar destroyed, it was refreshing to see that it will live on in Yarkand. Around the corner from the Mosque, there was a thriving Old Town bazaar. One can see rows of blacksmiths fashioning metal tools, furniture, birdhouses, and a variety of goods; most of this done in a way similar to several hundred years ago. Not much has changed since in this part of town.

Our return bus ride somehow took 5 hours, making it a pretty long day trip, but I would highly recommend going to Yarkand – especially if you appreciate the bazaar and the Old Town of Kashgar. Maybe one day we will return and cross the entire southern route of the Silk Road around the Taklamakan. Perhaps we may return through Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan.

Naturally, some of you are wondering how we can afford to be unemployed and yet pay for train tickets all over the continent. Here is how I afford my share of the travel expenses. Mike has saved for over a year to pay for his half while I saved less and am working from the road.

I have one writing contract, which I acquired in the summer of 2008, which pays around $500USD a month. I have a good working relationship for the company, and because of my tenure with them, and because I turn in assignments on time and with additional features, I am confident the relationship will continue indefinitely. However, I have a contract which stipulates a one month notice should they terminate, giving me one month to find another contract should this one expire.

I also do a bit of travel writing for an online travel and trip planning company. I work on an assignment basis which produces an average of $150USD an assignment (roughly every other month). More importantly, this is a link for me to build new contacts and a gateway to future contracts.

I have also been writing, on a by-article basis for an online magazine, which pays a confidential amount per article and is based in Thailand. My relationship with this company is great, and they love that some of their writers are also on-the-road travelers.

In addition to this, I am a frequent visitor to various online writer’s boards where companies pay by the article or by the word for content on various topics. Because of competition and constant undercutting, many writers do not get paid as well as I do. I work to cultivate working relationships with people at each company to ensure my stability with them, but also because a writer is more than the content they produce.

In addition to the above, between March – April of this year I earned a 100 hour TOFEL certificate which will enable me to teach in any country in the world for profit. Should we run into financial troubles or decide to settle in a place for a while, this will be an additional source of income.

Thus, while I am not making a fortune right now, I am breaking even and traveling the world, which is more than I could have asked for. I do have some University loans that cost me about $200 USD per month to maintain, but I put away savings expressly for this purpose beginning in early 2008 so that I would not have to worry about my loans until the summer of 2010.

Zoom!

The Statistics Are In
7 Cities
4 Trains
3 Countries
2 Buses
2 broken backpacks
1 Car
$ 464 USD Per person (3,175 RMB)*
11,896 miles
Shanghai to Tashkent
Twenty days

*20 Days of normal living in Shanghai = 3,573 RMB ($523 USD)

We took the 11:58pm train from Urumqi to Almaty, a 36 hour adventure across the Chinese border to Kazakhstan. Arriving early (as is my custom) we waiting outside a bit before being allowed into the terminal. You can only bring 36kg on board the train, and everyone’s bags were weighed, X-rayed and probed at the station. Once on board (car 5, room 6, bunks 23 and 24) we discovered that this was the nicest train we’d ever been on in China. The bunks actually left enough room for you to sit up straight and the hooks were facing up, instead of down and the toilet actually flushed! We fell asleep almost immediately and slept well because the rooms have doors (another improvement)!

At 7:00am I awoke knowing I should get up before we got to the border. I must have fallen back asleep because promptly at 9:00am a Chinese military official swung open the door to our room and motioned me off my bed. Thirty seconds later, when I was still blinking away sleep he came back and motioned again, a bit less humored than before. A second uniformed set of officers came in after the military cleared out. These men (in blue) collected our passports and put them in a metal briefcase and then sauntered off to a nearby building. After a moment, a third string of officials came through. These I did not recognize.

A Chinese official in white and blue walked up to Mike and held a small, white machine up to his forehead. It displayed a red dot directly above and between his eyes. Another official did the same thing to the woman across from Mike in her bunk. No one seemed perturbed by this. I was a bit terrified though, and when the guy came at me with the mystery devise I jerked back until he started laughing and pulled a thermometer out of the inside of the machine to demonstrate that he was only taking my temperature. Apparently (and, my guess would be from fear and paranoia) my temperature was a bit high. No kidding, officer?! He saw that we were American and then began to freak out a bit, he pulled out extra thermometers and made us stick them under our arms. The lady in our cabin motioned for us to remove them when he turned his back, so we did. When they came back they were at 36 and 37 degrees and then, suddenly, the officer spoke. I responded in Chinese and he nervously laughed, “I didn’t know you understood!” after a pause he added, “Excuse me, do you have the swine flu?” We said no, and a group of five officers showed up to listen to our story. We explained that we had been living in China since December and thus had not been in proximity to Mexico.

I’m impressed, honestly, with the way the government organized for mass border health checks including training the officers and explaining the origins of the flu. They did it professionally and quickly, and targeted the correct people for further inspection. I applaud. Its no small thing to halt a pandemic, and the government does away with PC measures to get stuff done.

After the swine flu check we had a baggage check. Here, I give a one thumb up, one thumb down. The Chinese guards only searched our bags and no one else’s. They made a big show of making us unpack every item in our bags. I suppose it is their job, but while we were showing them how an electronic toothbrush works the lady in our cabin was subtly kicking a duct-tapped bag under her bed. Whatever she was transporting was not 100% legit.

We finally chugged along only to stop five minutes later while they changed the wheels. Apparently Russian tracks are not the same distance apart as Chinese tracks, and this means all the wheels have to be replaced when entering Kazakhstan (also true with Russia and Mongolia).

Now to go through Kazakh customs. While the Chinese side had been entirely large, intimidating but finely groomed males the Kazakh customs officials were petite, gorgeous women in fish-net stocking, mini skirts and fluffy white blouses. A brunette came directly to our cabin and batted her big brown eyes, “You are American?” she asked. Mike nearly fell over himself as his jaw dropped and I responded, “yes.” She told us to give up our passports and show our bags to her friend, a red-head in a shorter skirt and more elaborate fish-net stockings. Mike responded with, “whatever you say!” and they walked away. However, after two hours of waiting, much to Mike’s disappointment they never came back. A burley alcoholic-smelling man came to return our passports and, after picking up new Kazakhs we headed on towards Almaty after one very successful and ultimately hassle free border crossing.

A Hospital

Having decided months ago to avoid going through Kyrgyzstan because of reported troubles foreigners were having at the Chinese-Kyrgyz border, we found ourselves last week in Kashgar. We took a two day trip out to Tashkurgan on the Tajik-China border which was apparently equidistance from Kashgar as the Kyrgz-China pass. We met two travelers from Australia (“Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oui, Oiu, Oui!”) who had already attempted the crossing once only to find the pass closed without explanation from either side. They tried again the next day and we never saw or heard from them again, which probably means they are in Kyrgyzstan. We have heard rumors across the traveling community that it is a difficult move to make, with a pick-up required at the border by a certified Bishkek or Osh agency. We decided while still in Shanghai to avoid the headache and simply backtrack. It was not until we got to Xinjiang that we realized the backtrack was over 24 hours in length and requiring a great deal more money that was amusing, as well as a bit more irony and, once again, we would find ourselves waiting in Urumqi (as we did for a week in 2006).

Having spent our last day in Kashgar walking around Old Town and then enjoying a fine dining experience at Fubar, our favorite home-away-from home in Kashgar, we hopped the daily 3:20 to Urumqi, an overnighter that lands in Urumqi at 3:30 exactly. Our train was running two hours early so they pulled off the tracks for two hours to arrive on time. Very efficient!

Back in Urumqi, we easily acquired tickets for the train on the evening of the 16^th. We were incredibly lucky. We bought a 3 day transit visa through Kazakhstan from the 17^th to the 20^th. Our midnight train put us at the Kazakh border at exactly 9am on the 17^th, we could not have planned it better if we had actually, ya know- bothered to plan.

In Urumqi between the 14^th and the 16^th we spent a peaceful and quiet few days in one of our favorite cities walking around the parks, eating local cuisine and relaxing at the hostel. On the 14^th we went, with a friend from the hostel, to the Uyghur Wuyi Night Market. We arrived a bit early and watched as everyone set up their mini stalls. A sudden and severe flash storm swept through the market, causing customers to hide in nearby stores (as we did) and vendors to pack up their raw meat and head home. The next evening, the 15^th, we went back to see what the market was like without lightening and terror and had a lovely meal of lamb, nan (bread), and kabab veggies. The 16^th rolled around quickly, and we packed and headed for our train eagerly awaiting our trip to Kazakhstan and our border crossing.

The Best and the Worst – so far.
Here are a list of the best places along the route and their contact information, we highly recommend these establishments and, unfortunately, received no knock-backs for passing on the good word.

Fubar, Kashgar branch.
This place is amazing! It is the only foreigner-run eatery in Kashgar, and their attention to detail meant that nothing was left undone. Here we dined on Pizza, Gin&Tonics and played board games. Conveniently located in central Kashgar, all the cab drivers know the spot. After multiple days in the desert, this oasis is worth the visit.

Kashgar Old Town Hostel.
This hostel was once a mosque, now converted into a multi-room dorm house with 6 or 8 beds per room. The Chinese youth who runs the place is a wealth of information and has great local contacts if you are looking for travel information. We definitely recommend staying here over the Semen Hotel, as rooms are 35RMB a night rather than 150. Meanwhile, the location is primo- a 5 minute walk from Edgar Mosque in central Old Town.

MaiTian Youth Hostel.
Located near Renmin Park in Urumqi, the Maitian youth hostel is a bit more rugged than others but for 40RMB a night it is passable. A bit pricey for what you get (6,8 bed gender-divided dorm rooms) the place has a decent location and is a wealth of information. The Chinese running the place seem hesitant to be helpful and are dismissive of any problems, but if you are a survivalist, this is a good spot to sojourn a few nights. Just be aware that the staff run this place like their personal club house and will be on the internet at all hours (rendering it useless) and screaming up and down the halls when they get on duty (promptly at 8).

Windows Scoreboard, Shanghai, China.
I am hesitant to write about this gem because I do not want it flooded with tourists. However, if you want a taste of home check out this hard-to-find windows location on HuaiHai lu (Near Sinan Lu). The lowest prices of any bar in China and a great atmosphere with a mixed crowd of Chinese, Thai, Western and African. A beer will set you back 10RMB.

The Worst:

And, sadly, here are a list of establishments to be avoided, and explanations as to why they definitely do not rock.

Fubar, Urumqi branch.

Old Mosque Youth Hostel

While the Kashgar branch rocks, this one is located on a bar street and competes with other, better equipped bars. Meanwhile, their serve a lousy pour, the staff are rude, loud and negligent, and the published address all over the internet is not correct. Meanwhile, they were without power when we arrived and had a noisy generated sitting, chained, to the front door as a back-up plan.

Silver (White) Birches Youth Hostel, Urumqi, China.
This shoddy establishment was hard to find and quite a jaunt from the train and bus stations, and from the airport. Once you finally arrive you will be disappointed by the piles of trash and dirt that occupy every corner, and the scurrying cock-roaches that act as permanent residents of the bathrooms and dorm rooms. The beds are hard and sheets and blankets are not guaranteed. Meanwhile, you will be close to a park, but nothing else in the city and will spend money on buses or cabs for transportation. Better to stay somewhere closer to downtown that is not infested with insects. Also, this hostel is in the running for ‘worst bathroom in China.’

Captain Hostel on the Bund, Shanghai, China.
This hostel, while nice enough, was massively overpriced. Located on the famous ‘bund’ are of Shanghai, we could not contest the price based on the better-than-expected location, but the service was horrible, there were few additional benefits like laundry, and the location meant a very noisy night. For one night, it was okay but we would not recommend multiple evenings here.

U-Cool Hostel, Shanghai, China.
While the lovely woman who runs the establishment is friendly and sweet, the hostel itself leaves much to be desired. The 6-8 bed dorm rooms are 40RMB a night and there is nothing in the way of additional services like a laundry facility, internet or a bar. We stayed here two weeks (out of necessity and because the owner, Anna, was very friendly, but we missed out on meeting new people and having entertainment. On the up side the location near the Bund was fantastic. Be prepared to spend your time in this hostel with Anna and her two sons as a partial baby-sitter.

Tashkurgan Stone City - Princess Fortress

At the end of a tree-lined street, we stopped at an old clay fortress. We discovered that it was over 1300 years old. Middle Eastern / Central Asia in design, the fortress stood watch over a beautiful green valley. It was easy to envision the structure being the only building in the area protecting the furthest boundaries of various dynasties or empires. After getting some pictures on the fort, I turned to look at the Pamirs. It was almost crazy to imagine that just over that range was Afghanistan. The valley below the fortress was full of small huts and streams going through the lumps of green sod. We ventured out into the valley and found that all of the streams were fed by bubbling springs all over the valley. A quaint wooden bridges arched over several sections of the stream so herders could cross their fields. We then collected some food and water and headed back for Kashgar.

After several hours on the road again, seeing the same scenery – which was equally beautiful in reverse – our driver suddenly jerked the wheel off the road. We started a bumpy ride toward a massive mountain range across a small desert. Initially, I thought we were just going off-road a little ways to get a picture. After about 15 -20 minutes though, it was pretty clear that we were going all the way to the mountains. Somewhat of an unscheduled stop, the driver turned around smiling and said, “We are going to that peak right there. You can see some ice.” At least that is what I got in Chinese. The road got even worse and we started jumping rocks and small boulders with the jeep. And by “road” I mean middle of nowhere randomly driving across a desert.

After an hour or so, we started inching our way up and down hills and valleys to find a safe pass to the mountain range.

Suddenly, the driver dropped the jeep into a rocky Spring melt river bank. The jeep immediately became stuck in the snow. Everyone exited the vehicle, and started to help the driver dig it out. I was wondering, “Are we going to spend the night up here because, even if we do get it out of the snow, how do we get out of the river bank?” However, to my amazement we got back in the jeep and continued across the boulders and rocks. The driver was insistent that he drive us to where we needed to be. We requested that he stop so we can hike up the rest of the way. With a sigh of disgust, he stopped in the bank and we hiked for about 1 ½ hours to the edge of a glacier.

The landscape was beautiful. A beautiful white glacier was dipping into a valley between the mountains. We climbed around the glacier and took pictures for a while. Looking around in the other directions was equally amazing. Looking at the towering peaks above us, the clouds swirl by so quickly. However, maybe I was just dizzy as we were now well over 4800 meters or about 3 miles above sea level. As I turned West, there were dust devils whirling in the desert and a snow storm approaching through the middle. We quickly made our decent and headed back to the jeep. It took us about 30 minutes to build up a rock ladder for the jeep to get out of the melt bank. I am glad we did not blow a tire or hook the frame on a rock. It would have been a very cold way to end it all, but at least the scenery was nice. We eventually made it through a small sand storm and were back on the road to Kashgar.

We have a video but it will not upload, we will do our best to add it soon.

If you are interested in doing a trip like this from Kashgar, it will talk about 1 full day from Kashgar to Lake Karakul, and then another day to Tashkurgan, the glacier, and back to Kashgar around 9 or 10 at night. Don’t forget to bring your passport as there was at least one document check before we got to Lake Karakul. There were several Chinese police stations policing this “Autonomous” Tajik Region of Xinjiang, China, so there may be more checks in the future.

Yurt on Lake Karakul

Sleeping at around 3500 meters was an interesting, if not involved exercise. The Kyrgyz woman bundled blankets and furs together to create makeshift bedrolls for us. The weight of the blankets was so much, it made it difficult to breath in the high altitude. We fell asleep to the soft flicker and glow of the dung-burning stove used for heat and cooking. The next morning, a rugged looking Kyrgyz man opened the wooden door to the yurt and was followed by a huge gust of mountain air. Standing at about 5’5’’, the man wore a leather jacket , a warm looking brown Russian style fur hat, and big black boots. With a half smile on his face, he clapped his hands, signaling it was time to wake up.

I crawled literally, under the weight, out of bed to put on my shoes and fleece, and then walked down to Lake Karakul. The water was a dark blue grayish color with areas of light blue from the phosphorous I assume – and hope. I knelled down next to the bank and stuck my hands in the water, then washed my face. The water was so cold I had never been so awake in my entire life. After returning to the yurt, we ate a quick meal of noodles and yak meat then got in the jeep and left for the day.

The jeep sped down the Karakorum Highway, passing several locals selling colored rocks they had supposedly found in the lake. As we rode for a few hours, we found ourselves in a narrow valley between two mountain ranges. Occasionally, these resembled rock canyons one may find in the Southwestern United States. At other times, massive jagged snow covered peaks jutted up into the sky resembling nothing I had ever seen…or probably ever will again. At two points during the drive, we saw massive green valleys between the mountains that looked like scenery from a fairy tale.

After about 3 hours from Lake Karakul, we arrived in the town of Tashkurgan. Tashkurgan is located in far Western China’s XinJiang Provence and borders Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and is very close to Pakistan. As we pulled into town, the Pamir Mountains (Pamirs) rose beautifully into the sky. Village women, mostly Tajik, walked around town in beautifully colored clothing and the men were dressed like shipyard workers from the 1930’s U.S. It was an amazing scene that was unlike any other parts of China I had ever seen – probably because other than the highway leading there and the electricity that came with it, it was entirely not Chinese.

This morning, after a bout of food poisoning which rendered us useless and hostel-bound yesterday, we decided to check out the famous Kashgar Sunday Market. According to our hostel owner/Kashgar guru the Sunday Market swells the city’s population by 50,000 people once a week. This morning, however, was a different story because of a freakishly random and intense rain storm which flooded part of the city and overturned potted plants and rattled the fragile wooden shutters.

We took the number 8 bus from the Old Town Mosque to the last stop on the line, which was 200m from the market…. across a giant puddle the size of one of the Great Lakes. After skirting the giant flooded road (effectively covering my black pants in yellowish-brown mud and clay) we found the Sunday market partially deserted. Apparently the rain and flooding was enough to scare away many an eager merchant.

The folks who did turn up were mostly selling livestock. We found a certain breed of sheep quite foreign to us, and a bit bizarre. The sheep had human-looking butts, no joke. They were pink, plump, and hanging off of the body of the sheep where a tail should be, almost like baboon butts. Buyers were inspecting the sheep’s teeth, utters, and then lifting and groping the plumpness of the sheep’s hind quarters, which were substantial.

Walking past the bizarre-butt sheep I nearly fell when my foot slipped on something atop the mud and water. I looked down and gasped to discover I had stepped on a goat’s ear that was attached to a goat’s head, but that is where the attachments ended- there was simply a pile of goat heads on the ground and I had managed, somehow, to step on it.

After jumping goat-ear-foot first into a puddle to rinse my shoes of the goat’s blood I turned to find Mike peering through a gateway into a giant field of mud and poo that was sectioned off into stalls where, on one side people were selling baked goods and spices and on the other selling big-butt sheep, goats and cattle. Strangely enough, amid the swine flu, there was an entire truck loaded down with large, pink pigs. Swine flu paranoia is at its height in Kashgar, with one French resident of our hostel having been forcefully quarantined at the local hospital for having a fever.

After slipping on severed head and watching people grope sheep butt we

decided it was time to eat. Still a bit quasy from the food poisoning (and raw meat and heads lying about) we decided to head to the only western place in town, the Fubar Cafe. We arrived and instantly felt like we were back in the states, a pool table was the center piece of this establishment, with a wall of board games, a bar and several menus that made my mouth water. We pulled out the risk game where we proceeded to play 5 full games (we were there about five full hours as well, as a result) while eating pizza and hamburgers and drinking captain cokes. When you are away from your homeland’s food and feeling ill, there is nothing quite as satisfying as something recognizable.

We spent the rest of the evening and well into the night walking around Old Town bazaars and getting lost (intentionally) in the old back alleys. The Old Town section of Kashgar is fading quickly, with some recent reports indicating that a full 2/3rds of the area has been leveled in the last two weeks. There is destruction all around us and I honestly think this place will be gone within the next two years, if not sooner. It is one of the nicest and most lively neighborhoods I’ve ever seen, and that makes this a real shame.

In central Old Town there rests an ancient mosque (build in 1442) that has been repaired countless times and currently remains one of the largest active mosques in China. We decided to take a peek at this ancient relic of religion.

After walking around a bit in the late afternoon on our way to the mosque we encountered a very lively group of men and women huddled around a man selling tea. The various herbs and spices were laid out in small silver bowls surrounding the man’s feet and he chanted about the health benefits of each herb as he poured small amounts of each into newspaper. He mixed the herbs and flowers and spices together and sold a bag the size of a softball for 5Rmb. We watched, amazed, for about ten minutes before I was convinced (though I understand no Uyghur) of the health benefits. We bought a bag at once before setting off to the mosque.

The mosque itself is open to everyone, though there was not a single other woman inside. All foreigners have to pay 20Rmb to see inside, so we dished out some coin before we were allowed past the first set of guards. I was intimidated by the openness inside the mosque walls. The interior was a large garden with several praying rooms, all facing East. We walked to the most eastern wall where there was a rug from 1570 hanging on the wall and a small throne with a Koran and clocks that showed the time on every continent (for call to prayer). There were other items as well, but I’m not sure what they were for. It was five to five in the afternoon when a man with a heavy beard and dark eyes motioned to us and ushered us into the garden where a mass of people had gathered. Everyone looked at my uncovered head (I had forgotten my scarf) and at my legs, which were in pants and not the required skirt that is customary in Kashgarian women. I felt embarrassed, but I’m not sure why now that I look back. Several very old men approached me and looked at my eyes, hair and legs before walking past and talking quietly with their companions. I was too shy to take any pictures of a place of worship so Mike had been walking around with the camera. It was something I’ve always wanted to see and experience, but if you plan on doing likewise don’t forget your head wrap or else be prepared for stares!

karakul

Lake Karakul, situated along the breathtaking Tian Shan Tajik-China border, is one of the most stunning and awe-inspiring spots on the whole of the planet. Standing in absolute silence atop a hill looking over Lake Karakul one is struck by how startling silence can be in the face of such massive and absolute mountain peaks, a turquoise lake surrounded by sand dunes and not a soul or creature in sight.

But getting to the lake required a near torturous traverse of the mighty mountain range. After finally falling asleep the night before at 3am, we awoke at 8am to meet our guide. Our guide was a Uyghur man who spoke fluent Mandarin; he smoked like a chimney, smells of bai jiu (liquor) and when he opened his mouth at least a few curses stumbled out before any nouns or verbs. We had heard that there was a driver with a 4X4 who had two people going to Lake Karakul and if we jumped on board we’d get a discount. We agreed the night before to 300RMB for the entire two day trip. The guide grabbed our bags and told us to load up. When we reached the Jeep, we found a Chinese couple already situated inside. Climbing in, we introduced ourselves and the lady responded with, “what do Americans think of Tibet?” Not wanting to get into a diatribe that early in the morning, I politely responded that most Americans, ourselves included, had not been there so we could not accurately form an opinion until after we had. She wrinkled her nose and launched into the most long-winded Tibet-bashing session I’ve ever listened to. She explained that the warm-hearted Chinese kindly donated their tax money so the Tibetans did not have to have jobs, they just laid in the sun all day and practiced their selfish (because you personally strive for Nirvana) religion. She went on and on about how lazy Tibetans are and then, in a shocking turn of events, she said that if the Dali Lama were to come back to China, “the Tibetans would be as if Negros.” I thought I misheard, so I asked her to repeat that last part and she said, “you know, like in America, the Negro.” The man in the back seat turned red and said, “I think she means ‘slave’.” So, I told her I would visit and make my own opinions about the region and then turned to stare, shocked, at Mike.

The man in the back seat, a pull-down jumper seat, was named Jason, a Chinese former cell phone company CEO. He was decked out in survival gear from head to two, all of which was brand new (his scarf still had the price tag). He was very friendly and spoke fluently in English and Mandarin.

Thus situated, we set off towards the Lake. The guide, in a fit of curses and Uyghur, screeched off the road after having stopped twice within the first hour to buy food, and ran into a field, disappearing into the bush. A few moment later he sprinted out of the grass and we screeched, going 60, into open traffic. He laughed and opened his pockets and passed out tiny green fruits that proved to be sour, tart and spicy all at once.

After several hours of bumping along we pulled off the road to the Kyrgyz Glacier Retreat, where, for 50RMB, we were obliged to hike a mile up the side of a hill to view a dying glacier. The glacier was pitch black, having accumulated dirt and rocks as it pushed its way down the mountain.

Back in the car hours later we continued down the winding, bolder-covered road until we came to a massive valley surrounded by snow-topped peaks. A single stream cut through the valley, attracting sheep, goats, camels and wild horses. We stopped to stare in awe for several moments before the driver began cursing and urging us good-naturedly on our way.

By 5:00pm we rounded a curve in the road and Lake Karakul came into view. Pulling off the road we stopped at a small Kyrgyz yurt camp where one family owned several yurts which they rented to passers-by. We paid 50RMB a night, which included dinner and breakfast. The wife was a friendly-eyed woman of 40 who looked 60. She was never still for a moment as she busied herself with cooking, knitting, cleaning or tending to th yaks, children, dogs, guests and her husband. The husband, also appearing to be in his 60s, was hospitable and friendly, and immediately showed us his small black and white TV – obviously something he was very proud of. He also pointed at the wooden ceiling to show us he had recently acquired electricity. His daughter, around 9 years old, keenly watched my every move. When I sat cross-legged on the rugged floor she copied my posture, when I drank tea holding the cup with two hands, she followed suit. Their two sons, about 4 and 2, were outside the yurt playing with two puppies. Meanwhile, the husband’s father was walking aimlessly around the lake, stopping frequently to watch a hawk or pet a camel – he was well into his 90s, if not older.

Wife made us a nice dinner or plov (rice, yak and apricots) with yak milk tea and nan (bread). We eat heartily, having not eaten since the morning. Wife then laid five sets of blankets on the floor for us and indicated that it was now time for sleep. We all crawled into our makeshift piles of blankets and, after listening to a donkey braw for sevel hours, fell calmly and serenly to sleep listening to the waves of Lake Karakul.

Old Town Doorway

We spent the day today walking around the Old Town districts of Kashgar. Around the mosque, one of the largest in China, were rows of marketers selling a variety of local hand-made wares. Across the street we entered the bazaar and were in awe as all Chinese aspects of the city disappeared and stalls of herbs, fruits, nuts, and spices covered the streets ahead. It was almost as though we were on the silk road again, which Marco Polo and Aurel Stein spoke of in such great detail. We walked for hours in what is most easily described as a photographers dream. Children ran up to us in the streets and alleys asking us to take their picture and then show it to them.

Around 7:00 this evening we experienced a large sand storm that engulfed all of Kashgar. People were running around the streets, shop owners closed their stores, and I got a fist full of sand in my eyes. There is some video of this, but we are having some issues with the Internet capabilities. There are still some really strong winds and I just heard the sound of several pieces of pottery breaking outside as a gust of wind blew them off their perch. If it is this bad in the city right now, I can not imagine what it is like in the Taklamakan.

Tomorrow we are taking a bus down / up the Karakorum Highway, which goes along the the border of several of the “Stans” and we will spend the night at Lake Karakul in a ger or yurt. The Karakorum has come highly recommended to us by our friends as well as a few fellow travelers we have met along the way. It will be a great photo opportunity as the highway will take us well over 3000 meters into the mountains. The last leg of this two day journey will take us to the base of the border with Pakistan. Apparently, we can stand next to a disgruntled member of the Chinese border security with one foot in Pakistan.

Mr. Friendly in Alley

As our night train rolled in from Urumqi today (24 hour sleeper train), we came upon a very Chinese station platform. Although I had not awoken to the rolling sand dunes of the Great Taklamakan that I had dreamed of, there was an ocean of a desert that spread as far as the eye could see. We found a driver to take us into town and found a nice hostel in Old Town near the local Mosque.

Xinjiang province was predominantly Uighur until the last 5-10 years as Han Chinese were integrated into the region. The Uighur are a combination of Central Asian Kazak, Tajik, Uzbek, and Mongolian – they are also a Islamic culture. The 2500 + kilometers of desert preceding, slowly faded into a lush desert oasis tucked away in between the Taklamakan Desert and the Himalayas.

We walked around the surrounding alleys leading to the centralized Mosque for hours taking several great pictures.  The 500 year old city wall, which used to surround Kashgar is literally a 3 minute walk from where we are.  It is amazing that anyone could send an army out here to conquer anything, but Russia and China have throughout the past.  In the next few days we will take a camel tour into the Taklamakan Desert and take a bus up the Karakorum Highway.

If you are interested in staying here:

233 Wusitangboyi Road – it is very difficult to find, but most taxi drivers know the street and you just have to find the random unnamed alley ways to this destination.  It is near the Edgar Mosque and West Renmin Road and has two large red doors with a very small “Youth Hostel” sign on the doorway.  I will update later with more information if I can.

Kashgar

We arrived in Urumqi, Xinjiang,at exactly 4:10pm today (right on time) after a 48 hour train ride across China. From here we have purchased tickets to Kashgar for tomorrow at noon, and will arrive in the city around noon the next day (24 hour train through the Taklamakan Desert). From there we have no plan, but need to be in Kazakhstan between the 17th – 20th. We hope to spend quite a bit of the next 15 days in and around Kashgar where Mike hopes to get the famous dry-shave that Tim to heartily recommended.

The train ride was an amazing experience, and one of the best train rides we’ve ever taken. A Uyghur man and his wife were in the bunk below us and the man proceeded to play his violin into the evening as a small community of Uyghurs gathered in our car to sing along, suggest songs, and listen. The man, upon hearing we were American, played some Western songs for us, including Wagner and Gershwin.  We were fortunate to be in such a great car for such a long trip. On previous journeys we have had crying babies or spitting businessmen on their cell phones well into the night. A small boy was on the train with us and he did not cry the entire trip (as I would have done at age 2). Instead, he ran around the car making friends with everyone and sitting on every lap in the car. At one point he defecatedin the only sink in our car, but his mother lovingly fixed the problem with her only towel….which she then washed in the sink and used to bathe the child. At any rate, he was a happy boy and he cheered up the long trip.

Urumqi is as we remember it – a cosmopolitan city bustling with movement. It seems everyone here has luggage and is on the move. We have only this evening to spend in the city, so will head back to the Uyghur night market. Having spent ten days in this city in 2006 I am not upset that we cannot spend longer now, but it is a lovely place.

Of minor inconvenience, my original backpack broke on day one of the trip. I replaced the bag in Shanghai with another that broke this afternoon. The damage is not total, and because I am my father’s daughter I had enough rope and caribineers to fix the problem.

We have my guitar along on the trip, and I hope to improve quite a bit as we travel. Tonight we’re re-stringing the guitar with nylon strings so I can really learn the Spanish guitar songs I love so much. Watch out Gypsy Kings!