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.

Related posts:

1. Yet Another Lake in Xinjiang
2. A Night on Karakul Lake in a Yurt
3. Kasghar: Uyghur Culture Meets Chinese Development