Kellen Smetana
We are storming across Xinjiang province and have made it to the capital city of Urumqi (“woo-ru-moo-chi” in Chinese. Say it with your best Italian accent and, funny enough, you’re right on). We’re certainly cruising and have picked up the pace from our time in the east, though it’s still no easy task as the province is larger than the state of Alaska and chock full of arid desert closed in by high mountains to the south.
We are storming across Xinjiang province and have made it to the capital city of Urumqi (“woo-ru-moo-chi” in Chinese. Say it with your best Italian accent and, funny enough, you’re right on). We’re certainly cruising and have picked up the pace from our time in the east, though it’s still no easy task as the province is larger than the state of Alaska and chock full of arid desert closed in by high mountains to the south.
Arriving in Urumqi
As you saw from the last two posts, we seem to consume ourselves every day thinking about one thing: wind. I never thought I would care so much about the wind, but out here in the open desert, it greatly affects our daily ride. One morning Ben, before bothering to eat breakfast or even put on clothes, went up to the side of the road to, in his words, “throw sand into the air.” I can’t even imagine how many times the early morning truckers must have had to rub their eyes at the sight of a British kid standing all alone by the side of the road in just his boxer shorts watching dirt blow away above his head.
They could not see our tents as we have been sleeping in drainage tunnels under the road. These tunnels offer great protection from wind, sun, and any nosy motorcyclists; the only problem is that we usually have to kick aside all the dried poo cakes because the tunnels are often used as a bathroom for passing motorists and construction workers. It’s pretty unbelievable for such a developed country. The other day I saw a man pass in his brand new Audi and pull over about a half-mile ahead. By the time I caught him, he was ten feet off the shoulder, book in hand, dropping a deuce in plain sight. In all my travels, nowhere else have I seen the same openness to public urination and defecation as I have in China. For the kids it’s rather funny. In the rural areas most don’t wear diapers; the solution is a simple slit front to back in the inseam of their pants. I just view them all as walking grenades waiting to explode and steer clear.
They could not see our tents as we have been sleeping in drainage tunnels under the road. These tunnels offer great protection from wind, sun, and any nosy motorcyclists; the only problem is that we usually have to kick aside all the dried poo cakes because the tunnels are often used as a bathroom for passing motorists and construction workers. It’s pretty unbelievable for such a developed country. The other day I saw a man pass in his brand new Audi and pull over about a half-mile ahead. By the time I caught him, he was ten feet off the shoulder, book in hand, dropping a deuce in plain sight. In all my travels, nowhere else have I seen the same openness to public urination and defecation as I have in China. For the kids it’s rather funny. In the rural areas most don’t wear diapers; the solution is a simple slit front to back in the inseam of their pants. I just view them all as walking grenades waiting to explode and steer clear.
Squatters rights
Before Urumqi we passed through the town of Turpan and the surrounding Turpan Basin. You may know that China shares the highest point in the world, Mount Everest, with Nepal. You may not know that it is also home to the second lowest depression in the world (after the Dead Sea): the Turpan Basin. The lowest point is 154 meters below sea level, though we did not need the GPS to confirm this as our sweat glands seemed to be shouting it the entire time we rode through. We spent a day in the oasis city of Turpan (a pretty cool town) and as a city with a strong tourist infrastructure, it was the first time I can remember that we were double-priced. One of the most appreciated aspects of China has been that even as foreigners with little language ability, we have been given fair prices throughout our trip. Some countries like those in Southeast Asia have English menus and prices double what the locals pay, and vendors will not allow ordering from the local menu. China has been great for this; so in Turpan when some vendors were clearly charging us double local prices, we told them to go “pile sand” (insert other words) until we found one who was fair.
Turpan Basin grapes, incredible contrast to the desert
Turpan water show, substitute Bellagio for China Post
And now we have arrived in Urumqi, a major destination for us because it is here we will get our visas to Kazakhstan. (Fun fact courtesy of Lonely Planet: Urumqi is the furthest place in the world from an ocean – 2250km. I guess it’s rather fitting to pass through here on my journey between Pacific and Atlantic. Box checked).
Yep, no ocean in sight
As we moved west across the province, we noticed a big change in the culture of the people with whom we interacted. Xinjiang province is 45% Uyghur (wee-gur), an ethnicity of Turkish descent whose people are today primarily Muslim. This has meant not only a change in appearance but also in food: LOTS of incredibly tasty fresh bread and LOTS of lamb (I may even start keeping kebab stats we’ve consumed so many already in Urumqi).
About how many kebabs I've eaten so far
Like Tibetans, Uyghurs are subject to harsh scrutiny by the Chinese government. They have twice declared independence and many Chinese I have spoken with consider the situation in Xinjiang a much larger problem than the one in Tibet, but not many in the West know about it because there is not a strong, amicable figurehead for the movement like the Dalai Lama. I read an excellent article about Xinjiang in National Geographic about a year ago that anyone interested should check out: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2009/12/uygurs/teague-text/1
For us, we’ll just have to avoid the cliques of shotgun-ready riot police patrolling the streets (no joke) and not eat too many kebabs until we’ve paid a visit to the Kazakh consulate and secured our tickets onward.
For us, we’ll just have to avoid the cliques of shotgun-ready riot police patrolling the streets (no joke) and not eat too many kebabs until we’ve paid a visit to the Kazakh consulate and secured our tickets onward.
RSS Feed