Tales from the Crypt - Xinjiang 2001

Xinjiang is a phenomenal area, both geographically and culturally. Located on the borders of Pakistan, Afghanistan, Tajikstan, Kyrgyzstan and Mongolia, Xinjiang is a Muslim province within China. People are Uighur, Hazak & Kazak and there are few Han Chinese though in recent years this has been rapidly changing due to PRC policy to develop region. The land ranges from Swiss Alp-like mountains to searing low-land deserts, all within a few hours drive of each other.

The Flaming Mountains

My visit was well prior to the up-swell of "separatist" violence of 2008 although several weeks prior, a series of non-fatal explosions had been let-off.

 

In travelling from Turpan to Tianchi, I was befriended by a Uighur man in the bus. His family had currently set their yurt high up on the mountain just below the snow-line and I was invited to ride one of their tiny horses up the mountain and stay with them.

The family were essentially herdsman and horseman. Little did I know, one of the staples if you are a horseman and herdsman is horses' milk. When I saw them milking the mares I stupidly asked "if you can drink it." Horse milk is fermented in a sheep's stomach until alcoholic and then consumed in great quantities. As a guest and someone to be indulged, I was given a bucket-load of milk. Not figuratively. Literally. A bucket of fermented, warm, horse milk.  I didn't want to offend so gritted my teeth and gulped it all down. At about 4am, I had to delicately and drunkenly sneak out of the communal yurt to throw it all up. Good times.

One of my favourite markets is the Kashgar Sunday market. Young men buy and sell horses with the machismo of young men and horsepower anywhere in the world.

In a small circle of men discussing the merits of the wares, horses are raced back and forwards as the haggling and negotiating takes place. The horses are stopped within a few inches of the crowds nothing close to a flinch from anyone, then raced back to the other side.

Possibly my favourite street-food market is the Urumuqi night market. Flat breads, cold beer, everything under the sun grilled on sticks over coals and the spices of the silk road. I felt like Indiana Jones. In one of my more fashionably ill-advised periods, I even sported a panama hat and white singlet to set the mood. I should have gone for the cool leather jacket and whip.

Xinjiang has even more. It has a temple for the Monkey King whose escapades brought him through the region in the Journey to The West. For those who are culturally stunted and don't know the most important variation of the story, we're talking about Monkey Magic!