It’s easy to run through an exhaustive list of all the big things that China has done.  To call out all of the sweeping expanses, the seemingly unending mountain ranges, and raging rivers that run for thousands of miles.

One thing China does really well is big.  There’s no doubt about that.  But over the course of my one year stay, I have come to realize that there’s more to it than that.

I try to notice all of the little things, the minor details that are not immediately obvious.  It must be the engineer, or the obsessive compulsive, in me.  With that in mind, I’ve compiled this photo essay that portrays some of the little details you may not notice but are beautiful nonetheless.

I’ve tried my best to go for a diversity of subjects as well as locations.  It would be easy to fill this essay with close-up pictures of urns and wall carvings from Beijing.  To be honest, some of these pictures are not my favorites.  I really did want to include a lot more pictures from Beijing.  But I think that no matter where you go in China, there is a certain beauty you can find in the little things.  And I wanted to maintain the theme I was going for.

With that in mind, I give you my first ever photo essay.  Enjoy!

Backdrop Buddhist carvings at Leshan, Sichuan.

Little red people stapled to a tree at Fuxi Temple, Tianshui.

My guess is these are "good luck" or "good fortune" prayer squares. They are tied to one of those giant urns at a small temple in Beihai (North Lake) Park, Beijing.

Columns supporting the roof of the High Mosque at the Aba Khoja Mausoleum, Kashgar, Xinjiang. With over 100 columns, each one is topped by a completely unique muqarna.

A large door at the Daxingshan Temple, Xi'an. I've never seen another door with a chain on it like this one.

A dragon (or is it emperor?) run at a temple near Lingyin Temple, Hangzhou. I found the blue accents particularly striking.

Usually the immediate impression you get upon seeing temple buildings is the sheer size. But sometimes you need to stop and appreciate the intricate woodwork that is going on under the eaves of the roofs. This one is from Heavenly Lake, Xinjiang.

The top of a wall inside the Yu gardens, Shanghai

Some kind of prayer charms at a temple (the name escapes me) in Lijiang, Yunnan. The lot of them made a beautiful noise when blowing in the wind.

I imagine that this dragon is breathing fire. Taken at another small temple at Beihai Park, Beijing.

Related posts:

1. Tangent Time! … Where Do I Live?

And how many months has it been since I was actually in Xinjiang?  It’s almost embarrassing that I’ve allowed so much time to pass before actually getting around to writing about the place.  I was there in the beginning of October and now it’s March.  Not good.

The final leg of my trip in Xinjiang was a stop in Turpan.  The city is at an elevation of 98 feet above sea level and is known for very cold winters and very hot summers.  While I was there it was easily in the 70s.

Turpan is known for its large production of high quality fruit.  This is a result of the combination of the hot, dry summers and a vast, ancient irrigation network.  And let me tell you, the fruit I ate there was really delicious.

If you want to visit all of the major sites around Turpan, you need to rent a car for the day.  These sites are scattered all about and it’s just too far to go on your own.  I was approached by a man putting a minibus tour together and I signed up with him.

Our first stop was at some culture museum.  I did not go in.  I was on a tight budget after splurging to get to Karakul Lake and the place’s big attraction was a spring.  I’ve been to places like this and I could tell from a glance that it would be a big waste of time.

The driver, a nice Uyghur man, asked me, “Are you going in?”

“No, I don’t think it is interesting.”

“You’re right, it’s not.  I don’t know why Chinese like this place.”

“Me neither.”

As it turned out my highlight of the day, despite all of the places we visited, was hanging out with the driver chatting.  It was fun practicing my Chinese and he was a very nice man.  I feel lucky I had this driver to talk to because most of the tourist attractions are not worth visiting.  They are a big waste of time.

After the cultural museum we drove past the Flaming Mountain (we didn’t stop and neither should you, buy a postcard if you must) and stopped at the Bezeklik Thousand Buddha Caves. I think it should be renamed the 10 Buddha Caves. There’s nothing there. Almost all of the carvings and murals have been destroyed. I was in and out in 20 minutes, about half as long as it took to get there. A waste of time.

We also stopped at a burial ground where only three tombs were open.  Another 20 minutes wasted.  And we stopped at a place where a lot of grapes are grown.  Yawn.

Another stop was at Gaochang, one of the two ancient cities outside of Turpan. If you’re really into the ancient history and historical sites, it can be worth your while. I am into that stuff so I thought it was pretty neat. Unfortunately there is not much left of the city. There are plenty of mounds of what used to be buildings and some walls like in the picture above. And there is a large temple at the back that is impressive.  Other than that, not much to see.

Jiaohe is definitely the star attraction in Turpan.  This ancient city is mostly still standing.  Granted that ‘mostly’ is just the walls, but you can clearly see the delineation between different buildings.  Situated on a large plateau, the city provides for hours of wandering.  It was a surreal experience and reminded me very much of wandering through Pompeii.  So if you’re into that, you’ll love Jiahe.

Jiaohe was the last stop for the day, so we arrived a little late (around 5 or 6 PM I think).  Right in that “golden hour” for photography.  Although it meant I didn’t have nearly as much time as I would have liked to wander and explore before it got dark, I did come away with plenty of amazing photographs.

I think it’s pretty hard not to take a great photo when presented with this maze of ancient buildings kissed by the setting sun.  In that hour before the sun finally went down, the place was just beautiful.

So that’s it for Turpan. My advice? Visit Jiaohe and skip everything else. It’s really not worth the expense and the time. Take that extra time and relax, eat fruit, drink beer, and enjoy the warm weather.

Related posts:

1. Traveling to Xinjiang? Read This Book!
2. Yet Another Lake in Xinjiang
3. Kasghar: Uyghur Culture Meets Chinese Development

Unfortunately, Urumqi is much like any other cookie-cutter city in China. It has very little character; it has no soul. What uniqueness it does get is from the resident Uyghur population. In my opinion, the Uyghur culture present in Urumqi is the only reason to actually visit this city. Otherwise it seems lifeless and boring without much to hold one’s attention.

My reason for stopping in Urumqi was for something far outside the city. About 110 km outside, in fact. That reason was Heavenly Lake.  At an elevation of 2000 m, the lake covers an area of 4.9 km².  It is, simply put, an amazing sight to behold.

The weather was much better during my visit to Heavenly Lake than my stay at Karakul. I would have to say that Heavenly Lake is much more beautiful. However it is also much more touristy. It is a large tourist draw for the region and the government has built up the area a lot (an $100 million project) to accommodate the people.

This resulted, for me at least, in a much more inauthentic, plastic experience. In comparison, my night at Karakul Lake was exhilarating. We were way up in the mountains, completely isolated and so far from civilization.  It was amazing. While Heavenly Lake is incredibly beautiful, the overall experience paled in comparison.

A lot of the information and guidebooks that I’ve read bill Heavenly Lake as the place to spend a night in a yurt.  I say screw that.  Obviously I don’t know what it’s like there, but judging from the kitschy feel of all the other tourist crap I assume you would have an infinitely better experience staying up on Karakul Lake.  That’s just me, though.

There are a few other tourist attractions around the lake, like this small temple going up the side of the mountain. I believe it is called the Temple of Maternal Grace, but I can’t remember for sure. From the main tourist area it’s about 1 km walking around the edge of the lake. Of course, they don’t tell you until you’ve walked all the way there and climbed half-way up the mountain that you have to pay an extra 20 RMB to visit the temple. A very common, very annoying trick to bleed tourists for money in China.

There’s not much to look at in the temple; it’s much like any other one I’ve seen in China (but I’m not going to get into that again). However, one bonus is a great view of the lake from high up on the mountain.

Well, there’s not much else I can say. In summary: Heavenly Lake is gorgeous but it is chock full of tourists (I was there during the off-season and there was still a ton of people). It really is an amazing sight, though, and I’m very glad I made the trip out. If you only have one day to spend in Urumqi, as I did, I strongly suggest you use that day to visit this lake.  Oh yeah, and don’t waste your time visiting any of the other “tourist sites” in the area.

Related posts:

1. A Night on Karakul Lake in a Yurt
2. My Last Stop in Xinjiang: Turpan
3. A Few Days On the Lake

For reasons I can’t remember, I had decided that Karakul Lake was the main reason why I came all the way out to Kashgar.  Leaving without seeing this famous lake would be a big defeat in my book.  And I just can’t have that, now can I?

It was surprisingly easy to arrange for a travel permit and a guide through my hostel.  For anyone thinking of visiting Kashgar, I strongly suggest staying at Kashgar Old City Hostel.  It’s an awesome, laid-back place with a very nice staff whom all speak very good English.  To top it all off, the hostel is right on the edge of the Old City.  Or at least what’s left of it, anyway.

I ended up forking over 600 RMB for my permits and guide.  And another 50 RMB for my stay in the yurt.  Obviously if I could have waited around for some other travelers to join up with it would have been much cheaper.  But I was on a tight schedule and was determined to make sure I got to Karakul no matter what.

I’m serious about never going back to Kashgar.  So what’s 650 RMB for a once in a life time opportunity?  Money well spent, if you ask me.

The 5 star accommodations of the night. There are five of these cement yurts sitting in a row. Each yurt is about 15 feet in diameter and 12 feet high at the peak.  Each has a single stove in the middle to generate heat and cook food.  There’s not much greenery to speak of, let alone trees or bushes.  Therefore the Uyghurs use animal manure in the stove.  Although it does burn well, it creates a none-too-pleasant odor that stuck to my clothes for the next few days.  That is definitely one part of the experience I would not want to repeat.

Being that I was visiting during the off-season there were only two yurts open. The other three lay empty.  In the background you can see a sliver of Karakul Lake and the mammoth Muztagata Mountain partially hidden by the clouds.  We slept literally a stone’s throw away from the lake and in the shadow of the mountain.

A proper look at Karakul and Muztagata. I’ve read that during the summer the water is like a mirror of the mountains and sky. Unfortunately the cold winter winds never stopped blowing, resulting in the choppy water before you. The surrounding area was generally cold, damp, and gray. Not surprising, really, considering it was October.

Despite the fact that I didn’t get to see the “mirror lake” I was still surprised at how beautiful it is.  For the most part the clouds obstructed the full view of the mountains.  Nevertheless they made for an impressive sight.  The pictures don’t really do them justice, I’m afraid.

I implore you. Don’t make the same, stupid mistake I made. I went up to Karakul Lake with only the clothes you see me wearing. And a vest. Holy crap is it cold up there. And in October? Forget about it. Literally within 5 minutes of being outside my limbs were numb. It was incredibly stupid of me not to think that a lake at 11,800 feet would not be cold at that time of year. Even in the summer I imagine it gets chilly.

Anyway, here I am reclining on one of the many bright, colorful sleeping pads the family laid out for me. It was surprisingly soft and the equally colorful blanket they gave me was quite warm. Sleeping inside the squat, round, cement home was definitely a pleasant experience.

You’ll also notice I am holding a beer. I was joined in my yurt by four foreigners traveling together. It just so happened to be one of their birthdays so they had brought a case of beer up into the mountains to celebrate.  They were kind enough to share with me.  They all made it through one beer before passing out due to the altitude. For some reason I had no problem with it. Either it was the first few days spent in Kashgar (4,100 feet) acclimating me or my asthma medication (I have no idea why that would help, I’m just venturing a guess here). Actually, you would think that due to my asthma the altitude sickness would hit me worse, no?

We were treated to this wholesome breakfast in the morning. Possibly the hardest bread I have ever attempted to chew. It was like a rock. The Uyghur bread is very flavorful, but also very difficult to eat. The easiest way to eat it is to soak it in the infamous Yak milk tea.

I would describe Yak milk tea as an acquired taste. Immediately following the first sip I nearly gagged. But after cautiously sampling it throughout the morning, I came to conclusion that it is indeed possible to enjoy this concoction. Yak milk tea is regular green tea with, you guessed it, Yak milk in it. Also, a TON of salt. It is really, really salty. It reminds me a lot of Turkish ayran; a salty yogurt drink. But this Uyghur drink is hot and more liquid-y. Basically a lot more unpleasant to drink.

By the end of breakfast I was nearly half-way to actually enjoying it. I enjoy almost anything I eat or drink so that can give you an idea of how bad I think it is. But I do see the merits of it buried way down underneath the salt. It might have been the delicious bread I was dipping into it, i don’t know. Regardless, this salty drink is not for the weak stomach’d traveler out there. You have been warned.

Despite the overcast skies the day before, the sun did decide to come out bright and strong the next morning. There was a thick fog coming off the lake, providing for a really beautiful glow over the water. The previous day’s weather disappointed me a bit; I was expecting much more picturesque scenery.

By the end of my stay on the lake, in a yurt, I was in high spirits and satisfied that all of the trouble and expense I went through to get there was well worth it. I can only imagine what the lake and mountains look like during the spring and summer. Absolutely beautiful, I’m sure.

Related posts:

1. Yet Another Lake in Xinjiang
2. A Few Days On the Lake
3. Why I am Never Going Back to Kashgar

Frankly, there is not much in the way of tourist destinations in Kashgar. I think of the city as a jumping off point for other sites such as the Taklamakan Desert, Tashkurgan, Karakul Lake, and access to neighboring countries. Despite some difficulties I did manage to visit Karakul Lake but I didn’t have time for any of those other things. Fortunately, I did manage to find a few things to do to keep me occupied during my stay.

But really the reason to go to Kashgar is for the above sites and the culture.  Even though Chinese modernization is quickly steamrolling through the city, it is still completely saturated with Uyghur culture and their way of life.  It is so radically different from the rest of China that it’s like stepping into another world.

In my mind, that reason alone is good enough to make the journey to Kashgar.  And I suggest you do it quickly.  Eventually the Old City will be replaced with high-rise apartment buildings and shopping malls.  The fantastic character of this unique city will be gone forever.

Near the center of town you can find the 59 ft (18 meter) tall statue of Mao Zedong. I’ve heard somewhere there is a saying that the further you get from Beijing, the bigger the Mao statues are. I don’t know if that’s true but this one is pretty darn big. Unfortunately the location is not exactly the most grandiose place.

The statue sits in front of some banal government building facing a small square and a less-than-stellar park.  Being not so picturesque, I think visiting the giant Mao is more for novelty’s sake than anything else because it really is a huge statue. Go see it, take some pictures, and leave. There’s not much else to do in the immediate area.

The Id Kah Mosque is the largest mosque in China and is located inside the Old City. It was built around 1442 and can house up to 20,000 people at one time. The entrance is quite striking and rather large (as so many things are in China) though it didn’t exude the deep feelings of culture and history that I had originally associated with such an important site.  To be honest, I think the Great Mosque in Xi’an is way better. Other than a series of lackluster gardens, there’s not much to see inside the mosque itself. I suggest forgoing the 20 RMB entrance fee and sticking your head in for quick peek. That’s really all you’ll need.

Id Kah Mosque sits at the center of a large square surrounded by a plethora of shops and stalls selling all manner of trinkets and snacks. Couple that with the fact that the Old City is just a few blocks away in any direction makes for a pretty neat area to visit. There is a very big downside, however. While I was there I always saw a platoon of soldiers “guarding” the square. They literally stood there all day staring at the mosque. During prayer times there were three or four platoons, about 100 soldiers in all.

Given the riots that occurred back in July it doesn’t surprise me that there was a large military presence. But I find it offensive that the government thinks it’s necessary to station troops outside a place of worship. I’m not religious in any way, but I can easily see how someone would be disgruntled by soldiers standing outside his church/synagogue/mosque/what-have-you watching him like a hawk. The heavy-handed gesture of placing soldiers there really typifies my perception of government attitudes towards China’s minorities.

Kashgar’s Old City is really the biggest draw for the town itself. You could spend hours, if not days, wandering the streets of this quickly disappearing area. I wrote about this place way back in October, and I don’t think there’s a better way to sum up my feelings than what I’ve already written:

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.

Kashgar is known to host two very big markets every weekend: the bazaar and the animal market. Can you guess which one I went to?  Unfortunately I only had time for one over the weekend due to my overnight stay at Karakul Lake.  I’ve seen plenty of different bazaars all over the world.  Also at that point I was on a pretty tight budget so I wasn’t planning on buying any souvenirs so early in my trip. Therefore it was an easy decision to head to the animal market.

I’ve never actually been to anything like an animal market before and let me tell you I was not disappointed. There must have been thousands of animals for sale. Sheep, goats, cows, donkeys, horses, chickens, and all manner of fruits and vegetables. The animals seemed to go on forever. It is a really impressive sight. Though I must say that the smell isn’t pleasant at all.

I spent about an hour walking around viewing the animals and watching the mass of Uyghurs conducting business. For only the price of a bus ticket, visiting the animal market is a great way to kill a few hours.

The Aba Khoja Mausoleum is an easy bus ride about 5 kilometers outside of town.  Built in 1640, the tomb is supposedly one of the finest examples of Islamic architecture in Xinjiang.  As you can see from the picture, it is very large and very beautiful.  It is covered in green and blue glazed tiles that glitter in the bright sun.  The building is a tomb so there’s not much to see inside aside from coffins.  But the outside was more than enough for me.

There are a number of small attractions in the area, including two decaying mosques, an orchard, and a graveyard.  General admittance to the mausoleum also allows you to visit the two mosques.  While they have fallen into disrepair, they are still nice for a quick visit.  You will be charged extra to visit the other sites (a common tactic to get your money in China).  I didn’t bother with those as it didn’t seem to be worth it.

So that wraps up my stay in Kashgar.  Coming up next is my trip into the mountains to visit Karakul Lake where I stayed in a yurt overnight with a Uyghur family.

Related posts:

1. Yet Another Lake in Xinjiang
2. Why I am Never Going Back to Kashgar
3. A Night on Karakul Lake in a Yurt

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

So where should I be?  In Kashgar, that’s where.  In the wonderfully not Chinese province of Xinjiang.  And where am I now?  Still in Xi’an.  Damn it!  So why am I not there?  Because I missed my flight.  In the US, airlines are somewhat flexible about check-in times and all that.  Not so in China.  Check-in is closed 30 minutes before any flight, and that’s final.  I found that out the hard way because I showed up 20 minutes before the flight.  I tried to explain that I wasn’t going to check any bags and that I could get through security in time.  No dice.  Unless you have serious guan-xi (sort of translates to relations), which naturally I don’t, then you are screwed.  They offered to put me on a later flight, costing over 600 RMB more and causing me to land in Kashgar after midnight.  That’s a no go.  After a long phone conversation with the very nice people at eLong I will be able to reschedule my tickets for up to a year and only have to pay the difference in cost.  Not a bad deal, I think.  Still, I would much rather be in Xinjiang right now.

Though part of me thinks that this turn of events is a blessing in disguise.  My health has taken a turn for the worse in the past week shortly after booking my tickets.  Without going into the details, I will say that I was left nearly incapacitated for a full two days after it happened.  On the day I was supposed to leave I was still not 100% recovered.  I think backpacking around Xinjiang for 2 weeks would not improve things.  So now I have some extra time to lay about and recover.  At the moment I’m a bit too paranoid about Chinese doctors to go see one and so I’m left to self medicate (which I know is a really bad idea, but what’cha gonna do?) until I return to the states.

That being said, writing here and reading other blogs has dropped a lot on my list of priorities.  I may not be commenting a lot, but I’m still reading here and there, just very slowly.  My motivation is just completely sapped at the moment.  Between ending the semester, working hard on my blogging and writing, having dear friends leave my life (probably forever), and now this, I feel completely drained.  Fortunately, I have a few things pre-written in anticipation for my trip to Xinjiang, so there’s not much work I have to do for the coming week.

Speaking of working hard on writing, I had my first and second guest blog posts published within a day of each other.  The first is about my trip to Nanjing over at Asian Ramblings.  Originally I promised Stevo an article on a particular topic, and ended up writing something completely different.  He was kind enough to publish it anyway.  The second is an article I wrote about spending 48 hours in Xi’an over at My Several Worlds.  Both Carrie (at MSW) and Stevo have been incredibly supportive of me and always ready with advice and sound counsel.  I am very happy to have been given the opportunity to give something back to them.  Thanks guys!  I hope my work helps.

That’s all I got for now.  I just wanted to let you all know what’s going on and why I’ve been relatively quiet.  I feel like I should be more active than ever considering my two articles being published, but I just don’t have the energy.  I’m tired.  I’m filled with ennui.  I know I need to do something, to get outside and see some cool stuff.  I just can’t motivate myself at the moment.  On the flip side, there will be a 4th of July barbecue this weekend hosted by my Hash Run friend, which should be a lot of fun.

Have a happy 4th of July everyone!

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