The farther west we travel, the minority ethnic groups particularly the Uygurs (of Turkish descent) are more pronounced. They are central Asians with dark skin, deep set eyes, and larger noses. Unlike the Chinese, the men have facial hair. From what I gather between the lines is that the Uygurs a repressed minority with fewer rights than the majority Han Chinese, and identify more with central Asians than with the Chinese. The radicals of this group are the ones who shot up the train station a few months ago, three hours from Turpan in the capitol of this province.
Han Chinese people, particularly the elderly, women, and children were the targets of the violence. As a result, domestic Chinese tourism to this area has drastically dropped off. Because of the recent violence, westerners have also dropped off. We did not experience any hostilities and the people here seemed as welcoming and as kind to us as the people farther east. There were many vendors on the street with little tourist business and eager to sell something to us as we passed by.
The locals seemed quite curious about us, particularly a group of high school students who were staying in the Turpan hotel and had traveled from farther regions of the province to sit for final examinations that would determine college entrance. Many of these students looked Uygur and seemed fascinated with us as we may have been first westerners they had seen.
There are barriers in front of the train station, queues and turn styles into the station with passports closely matched with numbers on our tickets, security ex-ray of all bags and luggage, and light frisk of our clothing as we enter. When we reached the interior of the train station, we climbed up four flights of stairs to the second floor waiting area with all of our gear to find that almost every seat in the station was taken. Our local guide seated us in a special area where our travel group could sit together. A few of the local people eyeing the opportunity to sit in the same area that had some seats, tried to push their way in to the area. The area control officer, a Chinese woman, started shouting at them and pushed them back. There was quite a commotion and it drew attention to our little group in an uncomfortable way, as we were the haves, and the rest of the people were have nots.
The station master released us earlier than the other ticket holders to board the train, Once again our tickets were checked, we climbed down the four flights of steps to the main platform, then down two more flights to the subway crossing and up two more flights of steps back up to the platform. It was hot and exhausting lugging around our gear. Our tickets were checked again as we boarded the train. We are on the bottom floor of a double decked train. The head space and overhead storage areas are lower so our bags do not fit and we have them piled under the little table. We need to unpack some of them in order to squeeze them under our bottom berth. Like sardines in a full can, we begin our trip to Kashgar.
We have been crossing more desert and skirting through the foothills bordering the Takla Makan desert. We have been steadily climbing and have passed through all variety of mountains from red rock (Flaming Mountains), brown, black, sedimentary fault block and conglomerate rubble. Once again we pass through mountain tunnels and gauge our passage over the summit by the flow direction of the river that zigzags below us as we cross tall concrete span bridges. Snow capped mountains loom on the horizon and we catch glimpses of locals on horses with colorful saddles, cattle grazing on fresh green grasses, mountain pastures filled with sheep, and colorful yurts as we descend from the mountains.
Morning of Day 11
In China, despite the distance across the continent, all time is Beijing time. As we travel westward, the time stays the same, but the sun comes up later and sets later. At 10:00 pm it was deep twighlight. Not long after that, Russ and I were in our berths, along with our roommates, soundly sleeping. During the night, our car which had heretofore been empty with the exception of our small group filled up, and the lineup for the washroom and toilet was long.
From the looks of the ground , it appears to have rained heavily last night as we slept. We are skirting the vast Takla Makan desert. Our train has some vegetation along side of it, and there are large puddles of water on the margins of the desert. It appears that with some of the white crust on some parts of the sandy soil, there may also be some salts. So despite some of the larger bodies of water we see beyond the immediate fresh water puddles close to the train tracks, the water and the soil maybe too salty for agriculture.
Everywhere we look this morning there is evidence of Chinese progress in extending their high speed electric rail and roads across the continent. Wherever our train rails on a frequent siding in the remotest part of the desert, there is a man with a flag, dressed in uniform, in a little guard shack, responsible for manning the switches. Where there is evidence of agriculture, there are no unskilled laborers referred to here as "coolies" in the fields, but small villages with tractors. China is pushing modernity and progress west, aggressively using their natural resources of sun and wind. We understand that Han Chinese are offered monetary incentives to move west and populate these traditionally ethnic tribal areas.
We will be arriving within the next hour in Kashgar at 10:30, and I will get this blog posted when we have some Wifi.
All is well with Worrall Travel Rs from the Takla Makan Desert on the Silk Road.
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