Why I am Never Going Back to Kashgar
Let me start off by saying that Kashgar is a great place worth visiting. It’s steeped in history and a major gateway to the Middle East as the last stop on the Silk Road before leaving China. Uyghur culture is alive and well in this remote town, despite the encroachment of Han Chinese modernity. Comparing Kashgar to Urumqi, Xinjiang’s largest city, is like night and day. Kashgar is a well-preserved example of the Uyghur way of life, whereas Urumqi is a city that clearly reflects the fact that it is inhabited primarily by Han Chinese.
The Old City is a glimpse into the traditional Uyghur style of living that, unfortunately, is slowly being demolished to make way for high-rise apartments, plazas, and reproductions of Islamic architecture. If for whatever reason this is of interest to you, I implore you to make the journey to this town before the demolition is complete. It’s a tragedy that an area so full of history and culture is being swept away for the sake of industrialization and modernization. It’s so full of character and charm while the high-rise apartments I see being erected all over China are so completely lacking in it.
There are a few factors involved in why I don’t ever want to go back to Kashgar. Despite the things I do enjoy about it (which I will be detailing in a later post), here are the things I did not enjoy about it:
It’s a pain in the ass to get to
Despite the fact that Xi’an is a major travel hub with direct flights to pretty much anywhere in the country, Kashgar is not one of those places. The logistics of getting there are just annoying. For me, it was a three-hour flight from Xi’an to Urumqi, a three-hour layover, and a two-hour flight from Urumqi to Kashgar. And believe me, the three-hour layover is the best you can do. That’s eight hours. Eight! That’s only 45 minutes less than the time it takes to fly from London to Mumbai. That’s bordering on absurd.
Don’t get me wrong. I can put up with long travel times. I’ve done plenty of that before. But to spend that much time going to a small city for only a long weekend? No thank you. And anyway, a long weekend is almost too much time to spend in a place like Kashgar, there’s just not enough to do!
I tried to take a bus, but they wouldn’t let me in (or out, depending on how you look at it).
My main reason for heading all the way out to Kashgar was to see Karakul Lake, which is located about 124 miles (200 km) south of Kashgar at an altitude of 11, 811 feet (3600 m). So I tried the cheapest method of getting there, which was paying 50 RMB for a bus ticket headed for Tashkurgan and getting off as near as possible to the lake.
All of the roads leading out of Kashgar have military checkpoints. Everyone not driving needs to get out of their vehicles and walk through the checkpoint to have their identification checked and recorded. Everyone on my bus (all Chinese and Uyghur) were allowed through except me. I wasn’t allowed to go.
“You cannot go, you must go back,” they told me (in English no less).
I responded with: “Why can’t I go?”
Silence. Eyes cast to the ground.
I tried a different tactic: “Weishenme wo bu keyi qu?” (Why am I not allowed to go?).
More silence. An awkward pause or two.
“You must go back now,” was their eventual response.
“OK, fine, but my bag is on the bus, I need to get it.”
So they literally had a soldier, carrying a large gun, escort me the thirty feet to the bus so I could retrieve my backpack. As if I would try to hop on the bus and escape into the countryside? The absurdity of the situation was mind-boggling.
And to top it all off, when I got back to the bus station I had to argue with the guy who sold me the ticket to give me my money back. I did get it back eventually, but that was just salt in the wound.
I got kicked out of my hostel (sort of)
On the day following my failed attempt at traveling to Karakul Lake, I happened to be in the reception area of my hostel when a Police officer walked in. The workers became visibly agitated and the laoban (boss) made a subtle gesture for me to leave the room. I quickly retreated to the large lounge area set up for guests and waited.
A minute later, the laoban approached me saying that the officer wanted to see my passport.
“My passport? Why only me?”
“Because he saw you. He will probably tell you to leave this hostel so tell him that you are flying to Urumqi tonight.”
“I don’t understand, why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, just get your passport.”
So off I went and brought the officer my passport. Without even opening it he tried to kick me out.
“This hostel is no good for you, you must leave tonight.”
“I’m flying to Urumqi tonight so I’m not staying anyway.”
“You have to leave immediately, you can’t stay here.” He either wasn’t listening or didn’t care enough to hear what I had to say.
“I just said I’m flying to Urumqi tonight. I’m not staying.”
“Oh, you’re flying to Urumqi? Let me see your plane tickets.”
“Well, I don’t have them, I have to pick them up at the airport.”
“OK, as long as you leave tonight then.”
He then proceeded to take a few moments to stare at my passport, pretending as if he was going to write something down. He decided not to, returned my passport, and left.
According to the laoban this is not an uncommon occurrence in Kashgar, especially around the time of celebrations. And especially since the riots that occurred in Urumqi a few months ago, tensions have been particularly high. The Chinese think that it is necessary to kick foreigners out of their hostels and hotels in order to force them to stay at one or two specific places so that officials know where they are.
I’m not sure what mode of thought motivated this behavior but my impression is that it is born of paranoia. As if the Chinese believe that they must control every aspect of life down to the minutest detail or else utter chaos will be unleashed upon the land. Like a tidal wave, unrest and protests will sweep across the lands all the way to the very doorstep of the CCP in Beijing. All because I visited the countryside without a permit (which, according to some, isn’t even necessary). All because I stayed in a single hostel for three nights in the Old City of Kashgar.
The obstacles that I faced came as a big shock to me. It was really the first time where being an American citizen actually made me a target for something (or someone) other than beggars. In addition, in just the four days I spent in Kashgar I faced these problems of arbitrary decisions with seemingly no rhyme or reason, and certainly no explanation. I can’t even begin to imagine the feelings of frustration and resentment that the Uyghur people have for the Chinese because of similar actions and decisions (and much, much worse) that have occurred over the past 50 years.
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Graham – glad to see you’re back on the blogging bandwagon! So when are you going to put together a book of all your experiences?
If you read some travelogues from the old CCCP, you get the same impression — the level of control required by regimes that depend on unquestioning adherence and allegiance can be ridiculous.
Considering that the origins of the communist party lie in a scheme of world revolution, this is perhaps unsurprising — anyone who is against the party is, functionally, a traitor both to the goals of the revolution and a collaborator in their own oppression. There aren’t any other alternatives, if you are ideologically pure.
Sounds like those parts sucked, but you handled them with aplomb. Looking forward to hearing the bits you did like!
DQ
@Alan: Thanks man, it’s good to be back. A book? Seriously? I had never even remotely considered putting a book together. Do you think it’s something worth looking into?
@DQ: Yes, those parts definitely did suck. Fortunately I’m not dumb enough to press those types of issues with police officers (especially in a foreign country). Really the only thing foreigners can do (and pretty much everyone else here) is bite their tongue and deal with it.
Oh, Graham, your cherry is broken. Welcome to the Middle Kingdom.
How festively tongue in cheek, Stevo. Thank you.
That or very, very creepy. I’m not sure which one.
That’s twice in a week I’ve been called creepy. I’m getting a complex.
At least you weren’t here before and during the Olympics. That was a nation-wide security crackdown. Even here, in the far south. I stayed at home for weeks.
I noticed on the news last night that a few people were sentenced in connection with the riots yesterday. Maybe that contributed to their zealous foreigner herding…
Wow. Graham, this is my first time checking out your blog and if this post is anything indicative of your experiences and writing style you should definitely take Alan’s advice and put together a book.
I am subscribing now and also can’t wait to hear about what you liked!
@Stevo: I can only imagine what the security must have been like during that time. I probably would have gone absolutely stir-crazy!
@Melissa: That’s entirely possible, though I think it has been an ongoing thing. If they wanted to be zealous they would have searched the entire hostel and kicked everyone out. Not just me.
@Kristin: Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m truly flattered. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with putting together a book. Any suggestions?
Disappointed to hear that all of this turned you off to Kashgar!
Your experiences are perhaps not unlike what some Uighurs face on a regular basis. It was reported in the Shanghaiist that during the run-up to the Olympics, the Public Security Bureau in Shanghai posted notices stating that guests and hotel workers alike should immediately notify the police when Tibetans or Uighurs checked into a hotel.
Treasure your Kashgar experiences which may, in some ways, be more genuine than others you have had in the People’s Republic.
I did manage to have a good time in Kashgar but these events were a total bummer. Better luck next time I suppose.
I can only imagine that the obstacles Uighurs face are exponentially worse than what I went through.
Haha yeah I think I got a much more “authentically Chinese” experience in Kashgar. I certainly was a trip!
@Graham
By the way, if you are interested in books on Xinjiang, check out my introduction to “My West Land, Your East Country” along with some translated excerpts:
http://www.bruce-humes.com/?p=794
Chinese Books, English Reviews
I was in Kashgar at the end of August and had none of these problems. I also went to Karakul Lake, but I’m most mystified that you found a bus going there. Travel guides list both a specific bus going there (a joke to anyone who has ever been there), as well as a bus to Pakistan that stops on the way. I met quite a few people that went to the bus station only to find that there was no such bus (you need at least ten people for the bus to leave, and this never happens).
I ended up going through a travel agency, which was fine. It was supposed to have been me, two Japanese and the driver, but the guide came to take us past the checkpoint, presumably because he was responsible for us, the driver being just a driver. I didn’t know you needed a permit to do that independently, but it’s no surprise what happened if you didn’t have one. Sorry to hear it, it’s an intensely frustrating country at times.
I was so aggravated when this happened to me (the getting kicked out of a hostel) in Hami, Xinjiang. Two friends and I had already checked into the hostel, and we’d gone out for dinner, which was all pretty late because of travel and (non)time-zone issues. When we got back at 1am, the old, matronly attendant forced our departure. We were stunned, and even after I appealed to her human instincts (three young foreigners thrown out in an unfamiliar city with nowhere to go in the middle of the night, when you have beds right there that are unoccupied?!). I even got on the phone and yelled at her boss at how inhumane it was. I still find this unbelievable and sad.