After a car journey back to Turpan Station we found ourselves on a double-decker train to Kashgar. Instead of a single floor three beds high, the carriage was split into two floors, two beds high. Though less convenient for a group of six (bays of four) it was more comfortable. Leaving a station with the platform at eye-height (standing up) was an odd experience! As evening set in we wound up through the mountains, Kashgar-bound.

The next morning, we weren’t up too long before arrival. The station is in the city; Kashgar’s city planning leaves Turpan in the dust. The hostel was located inside the Old City area, made up of winding cobbled streets leading off into tiny alleys and clay-brick buildings (a material called adobe apparently). Easily fascinating enough to just wander off and take photos. There was no air-con in the rooms, but two fans did the job instead.

On Sunday we visited the weekly animal market a few miles outside of town. The first thing that struck me was the arses of the sheep. This might sound like a weird thing to literally write home about, but there is a good reason. Sheep Arse is a Uighur delicacy, and as such the sheep are selectively bred to have enormous behinds. Watching them coming down from two-tier trucks was worth a few photos, having the floor planks removed until they had to jump down a few at a time. The treatment and conditions of the animals left quite a lot to be desired: not a place for animal lovers.

Kashgar’s food was delicious and cheap – ideal for volunteers, not that the government would ever assign Project Trust a school there – but since we visited during Ramadan most places were closed at lunch and Pollo was difficult to find. Almost everyone there is ethnically Uighur, in stark contrast to other places (even in Xinjiang) where the vast majority are Han. On a visit to the People’s Park we spotted a huge statue of Mao across the road, and an impressive collection of armoured cars lining up as a deterrent in anticipation of the end of Ramadan a few days after we were due to leave.

Though we were staying in the designated Old City it was by no means the only ‘old’ part of the city. We went near to another area which was either falling down or being actively bulldozed in the name of progress, a common feature of Chinese cities. That’s one of the main differences between other areas of China and Kashgar: though much of the same things are happening, you notice it in Kashgar because it feels out of place. There is the danger that it will become ‘just another Chinese City’ although I suspect it is relatively slim. There’s just too much going on and too much culture for that to happen.

Our visit to the bazaar was interesting but frustrating. The stalls were many and varied, but the prices demanded were ridiculous (which is normal) and yet shopkeepers weren’t all prepared to haggle because we’re not Uighur; the expectation was that we have to pay more. Saying ‘it costs less elsewhere’ is supposed to work eventually, but when they’re not prepared to barter it’s just impossible. There was nothing I couldn’t get in Ürümqi, but it would have been nice to buy from the Uighur capital of China.

With more time (and money) we might have tried to visit places around the city, like Tashkorgan or Karakul Lake, but since we had neither, the city itself had to suffice. Well worth the 20 hours it took by train to get there! It was an appropriate way to finish our year in Xinjiang, and we had only a few days to recover in Bagang (next to Ürümqi) before our 40-hour mammoth train to Shanghai and the East coast.

—TJC

Featured image: Rams lined up for sale at the Sunday Cattle Market.