November 1, 1998
Page 4
s we sped out of town, we anticipated winding through a mountain range
to the 12,500-foot border pass. However, when the sun rose over the
distant mountains around us, we found ourselves manuevering along a
barren, windswept flatland that rose like a giant ramp and plateaued at
the border. It was so peaceful and serene watching the horses, yaks,
and sheep muster up morning energy to look for food, followed by the
curls of smoke rising from small mud house settlements of shepherds who
lived on this plateau year round. We sat quietly enjoying, and then the
tape went in...We were familiar with the type of techno-pop noise
pollution the Central Asians' regarded as music, and so we winced at the
thought of such music on this morning. Thankfully, the selection was
sufferable and even a bit amusing as instrumental music a la Mannheim
Steamroller wheezed through great American classics like "Ghostriders in
the Sky", "Memories", and the theme from "Fame."
e had received special permission to cross this border and even had to
arrange separate transportation on both sides. Our Russian driver could
take us only as far as the Kyrgyz line, where we would meet a Chinese
chaffeur to take us the rest of the way. All around the border, both
countries had an endless number of checkpoints starting as far out as 40
miles. We were thankful that our drivers knew the procedure well enough
that we could sit back and smile as everyone thumbed through our
passports. When we finally reached the real line, our 4WD stopped and
we shuttled our bags the 50 yards from one car to the other, huffing and
puffing from the altitude as we went. Then the fun began. We whizzed
down the Chinese side passing through raw and colorful canyons that
looked like they were just created yesterday. Descending 7500 feet, we
found the city of Kashgar waiting below.
ashgar, the most inland city in the world, is a wierd town. The
majority of the population is Uyghur, a people-group more closely
related to Uzbeks and Kyrgyz than to Chinese. But here, the societal
influences are definitely Chinese and not Russian, so everyone spits,
owns a bike, and all motorized vehicles employ their horns whenever
possible. Looking forward to new cuisine, we had to seek out the
"Chinese" market. We happened to be here over a weekend when, in
grandiose Central Asian fashion, this town swelled from 3 to 400,000
people for the Sunday Market. It is really an amazing sight to see.
Vendors are selling their goods EVERYWHERE, and the streets look like
constant parade routes as pedestrians, bikes, animal carts, buses and
cars all enter and exit the mob to get to their destinations. Strange
as it sounds, this big "carnival" was a good transition from one culture
to the next, and it made us excited for our next month or two in China.
o big health news to report this time. Sorry to disappoint those who
particularly wait for just this sort of story!
hina's met the information age a bit sooner than the CIS so we are
hoping for a bit more news from home, especially now that the football
season is in full swing. If you'd like to email us, goingbeyond_spam@yahoo.com
(Remove the "_spam" from the name).