Turpan

After arriving in Urumqi, we quickly got on a bus to Turpan. Our first thought on arrival to the brightly lit Chinese center of the city was "why do so many people recommend this place?" Once we began to wander through the old town with its traditional mud brick courtyard homes and old bearded men riding in donkey carts we began to see Turpan's charm. There was a night market where what by day was a clean, paved parking lot became an outdoor restaurant with many vendors selling dirt cheap shashlik, stir fry, and steamed dumplings, all cooked on portable coal grills. In one corner you could even find such delicacy's as cows lung and sheep head. We ate here nightly, with a bottle of Turpan wine, a steal at $1.60.

The Chinese are sometimes a bit weird. One thing we have seen in several towns is birds with noise makers. I first encountered these birds in Turpan, when I heard overhead a sound something like a large motored airplane. I looked up to see that it was a flock of birds, of which at least one had been caught and outfitted with a noisemaker.

We arrived into Turpan just in time for the raisin harvest. The grapes had been harvested and hung to dry and now people were sorting the raisins in huge piles on the oily pavement, after which they were bagged with garden shovels. Seeing this method of handling, Tim and I decided not to eat any. This really upset one young vendor. When we refused to purchase some he began screaming at us "please, please, my family raisin! please, it's my family raisin"

Another interesting thing we saw in Turpan was the city dump. Interesting because it was the way the entire thing was sorted into neat little piles-fabric scraps, metal, bicycle tires, cardboard, different thickness of paper, and plastic and glass containers of all sizes. There was even a cloths line hung between two trees where scavangable clothing was hung.

While Tim hung out in Turpan, I took a day trip one day by bus to a small Uyger village called Tuyoq . Here it seems like the people live like they must have for centuries. Their mud brick courtyard homes were interspersed throughout the crumbled homes of the past. Muezzins climbed to the mosque roof to call out the prayer call the old fashioned way, with no loudspeakers. But still, progress creeps in-there was an oil well in the middle of the fields.

Hanging out



Outdoor pool



Exercise in the park



An old Uyger man



A typical donkey cart





The Emin minaret behind some fields and large, well ventilated brick buildings used for drying grapes



Sorting raisins on the pavement



Tuyoq

A typical courtyard home



Homes mixed in with the ruins of the past








I have recently gotten a hold of Mao's little red book in English. At the end of each blog in China, I will share a paragraph or so out of the book. Please note that I am doing so for informational purposes only and that the quotations I choose to share do not reflect my own opinions!

Mao's quote from the little red book for today:

"For instance, to arrest, try and sentence certain counter-revolutionaries, and to deprive landlords and bureaucrat-capitalists of their right to vote and their freedom of speech for a specified period of time-all this comes within the scope of our dictatorship. "

"Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" 1966, Foreign Languages Press.

Please note that Mao's quotes are presented for informational purposes only, and do not reflect the opinions of the blog author!

Stowaways

Getting on the train to China proved to be a very interesting experience in corruption. The ticket clerk in Almaty, Kazakhstan told me that train tickets from Almaty to Urumqi were sold out for a week. Knowing that there was sure to be ticket sellers lurking outside the train station, I went out and started asking everyone loitering around "bilet, bilet" (ticket) while Tim watched the bags. Many people came forward with tickets, wanting 2X the normal price! Most of them would not bargain, but finally, after some stiff negotiation, I found someone who told me he could get the tickets for only slightly higher than the actual rate. At this point I got my bags and Tim and I went outside together, after which we and the man were surrounded by a small mob, including three women who tried to drag me off to God knows where. To escape them the man punched the women's arm -hard- and when she let go, he dragged me at a run through the train station and past the guards to the train yard, followed by Tim and then the women. One of the women fell flat on her face chasing us! I am amazed that the guards did not try to figure out what was going on. At this point we had no idea what was going on ourselves, only that the man had promised us tickets. It was only later, when a railroad employee showed up that we realized that we would have no tickets and would be taking the staff berth of one of the train cars. We boarded the train several hours early in the dark and waited while cars were being added and removed and the car was being prepared. Our two person train berth was very comfortable and private and it was a relief not to have to try to make conversation in a language we barely understand. Of course, the train staff who gave up their beds and slept sitting in the stewards compartment keep all the money except the commission they paid to the man who made the arrangements, and possibly any bribes paid to border officials. At the border, a border guard who spoke excellent English told us that there was available space on the train but that since we were foreigners with most likely little time and lots of money that the ticket lady would not sell us the tickets. This way the ticket brokers that buy lots of tickets could have a crack at us! The brokers charge double and pay the ticket agents a commission to do this. Of course, all this is not entirely legal but no one pays any attention to it, at least not in Kazakhstan. When we reached Urumqi, the passengers on our train car all began to gather outside of the car. They were talking about us; I kept hearing Biz Bilet, Biz Bilet (without ticket). We were made to understand that we should wait for the group to leave the station. Soon we found out why: the Chinese check passenger tickets on exit from the train station. With the whole train car knowing we did not have tickets, they all grouped together to keep the officials busy while Tim and I slipped past them. Overall it was an interesting experience and fortunately worked out well for us. It certainly would not have happened like this in the US. If tickets were sold out for a week, we would have had to wait a week! Of course, we probably would not have been lied to about ticket availability in the first place.

Uzbekistan, Bukhara

Bukhara was our favorite Uzbek city. It was more lived in than Khiva, and had a more old town atmosphere than Samarkand.

When it comes to technology, Uzbekistan is the most backward country Tim and I traveled. To make an international phone call, you have to go to the post office and have them connect you the old fashioned way. In addition to being very expensive, you ended up listening to four conversations at once. Internet was dial up, and a poor dial up connection at that. And the currency is hilarious. The largest bill you could get was worth less than a dollar. So, despite the fact that people do not have a lot of money, everyone walks around with giant wads of bills.

When Tim and I went to Central Asia, we expected that the people would be happy to no longer be a part of the Soviet Union. So it was to our surprise that many people talked of Soviet days with fondness. According to these people, it was easier then to get good medical care, as they could go to Moscow. Things were more affordable, as opposed to now when inflation is very high. Other people lamented the splitting of the central Asian people into many different countries. Of course, not everyone agreed with this viewpoint. One business man explained to us that "In Soviet times it was very easy and the people grew very lazy! The government paid for everything." Another man told us that communism was bad because it "sucks everything dry". Democracy was bad because "it's all about money". Of course, one has to keep in mind that Uzbekistan is not exactly a good example of democracy in any way. Tim asked him "well, what would be good?" The answer? "Islam!"

The enclosed courtyard of the women's section in a 19th century wealthy merchants home





Tim and I in 19th century wealthy merchants dress.



It's me under there. If I had wanted to leave the house in the 19th century, this is what I would have worn. It is really heavy-the women must have developed very strong necks!



The Emirs summer palace



Ruined salt and chemical encrusted soil



A few more of the Uzbek people











An old medresa gate in Bukhara



A large Bukhara mosque, medresa, and minaret complex









Tile detail



Tashkent bazaar





Tashkent back street

Uzbekistan; Fergana, Samarkand, and Khiva

We spent about three weeks in Uzbekistan, mostly looking at the beautifully tiled monuments and frequenting bazaars. Uzbekistan bazaars were very orderly, with wide walkways and permanent, uniformly designed shop counters. While walking through the bazaars, many people would stop us to talk, and to give us things-fruit, pottery, a silk purse. The people of Uzbekistan had beautiful, big smiles and many gold teeth. We enjoyed Uzbekistan for its history and its people.

Before entering Uzbekistan we were in Osh, which is a largely Uzbek but was made a part of Kyrgyzstan by Soviet gerrymandering. Here people were very vocal about the government in Uzbekistan, telling us many things about government corruption and repression of peoples rights. These people all believed that they personally were better off and had better lives because Osh was in Kyrgyzstan territory. Once we arrived in Uzbekistan, the people where very quiet about the government. Sometimes we gently tried to draw them out, asking how they liked living here. The response was always "the sun is shining" with a gesture towards the heavens. I always felt very sad whenever I heard this response. We saw a few signs of the things we heard of. Everywhere we went in Uzbekistan there was many government military checkpoints. The Internet was filtered, which is why I was unable to properly update the blog. Many people talked of trying to leave, and some asked us to help them with invitations to America. In Tashkent the police attempted to take us in a small room and search us so they could remove us of our money. We loudly told them no in Russian and they reluctantly let us go.

Fergana Valley, Uzbekistan

Spinning silk thread at the silk factory, Fergana valley



Colorfully dressed women in Fergana





Samarkand, Uzbekistan

Shakh Zindah Mausoleums, Samarkand







The Guir Emir Mosoleum, where Tamerlane was interred, used over 17 Kilograms of gold in its interior decoration





A typical Uzbekistan street



The Registan Madressa complex, Samarkand



Close up of the dome, Registan



Intricate tile work in the Registon



Tile work detail, Samarkand





Beautifully carved door in a mosque minaret. Samarkand



Carved door in the Jewish cemetary, Samarkand



People of Samarkand







Women in Samarkand's bazaar selling ready made salads



Samarkand bazaar



A girl in her school uniform. Samarkand



An Uzbek family, Samarkand



It's the wedding season in Uzbekistan and all the brides look like they are about to be hanged.



Tim on a park bench



Khiva, Uzbekistan



Ladies watching the world from their porch step













Painted ceiling in Khiva







Many of the doors are beatifully carved throughout Uzbekistan



Me, in front of 800 year old carved pillar in a Khivan mosque



The city gate in old town Khiva