Lost in a desert

Being the world's most inland city, Urumqi (乌鲁木齐) as the capital of Xin Jiang (新疆) is one of the most diversed region in China. Back in the day, Nomads spread out and eventually settled in oasis surrounding Taklamakan Desert, becoming important rest areas on what is later known as Silk Road. The area eventually became East Turkistan as it developed with rich mixture of culture, but its history is filled with battles and fights over its independence and conquerance against neighboring countries. There are over 40 ethnic groups mingled in the area, including Han, Uyghur, Kazakhs, Kyrgys, Türkics, Mongols,  and Russians, and turning into a small street in Urumqi can make you wonder whether you are really in China or not.

We were planning on visiting Hotan (和田) and Kashgar (喀什), cities in southern Xin Jiang, known for their important roles on Silk Road check points; cities where Uyghurs culture and history are alive. However, unfortunate incidents took place in both cities in late July, and after discussing about the safety in these area with local people, we decided not to go. For us foreigners, it is not easy to understand the depth and the complexity of such ethnic and religious conflicts. The best we can do is to stay away and not get involved.

Riot patrol in action

 

Having to rewrite our plan, we thought visiting Taklamakan desert, the world's second largest desert, would be a good alternative, but when we asked the locals they told us it is suicidal. The desert name originates from Takli, meaning death in Uyghur, is not a place for two amaturs to step a foot in during the hottest month. We continued to ask around and found another desert, Kumtagh, located just south of Shan Shan (鄯善), about 300km east of Urumqi. After 4 hours of comfortable bus ride, we arrived the town center, and when stepped out we were immediately blasted with wave of unbearable heat. We jump into the first motel in sight but was not open for foreigners. The clerk gave us names of three motels available for non-Chinese, and after checking in we went out for a late lunch. There we were told that the temperature was at 45C, or 113F.

According to a local guide Sahe had met on the bus, the Desert Park has a higher entrance fee for foreigners, but can be avoided by asking a cab driver to purchase tickets on behalf. We decided to pay an initial visit, just to see how bearable the temperature is. When we asked a young driver for a favor, he rejected it by telling us that we can see the desert for free. He drove through narrow paths into a vineyard, and told us the desert is just over the hill. We went through a ripped fence and crawled over a mountain of sand. There it was, the desert. It was so beautiful but the heat was nothing like what it was in the town. With no shade and breeze, we could barely take some photos before rolling down the hill into the same cab with half-melted selves, shoes full of sand.

The town, built around a main street, is divided into two sections. Uyghurs lived in the area closer to the desert, and Hans lived closer to the freeway. Sand buildings are only visible near the desert, and further you are more concrete they became. The sidewalks are lined with trees to provide shades which make walking outside during the daytime possible.

The same driver came to pick us up at 20:00, and this time we asked him to take us to the park. He left us a couple hundred meters back to go buy tickets for us, and with a card of paper each with 30 yuan imprinted we walked through the entrance, marked 60 yuan in English. The path was sandwiched by vineyards, and the shadow of grape shelves reached from the right side to the left. We climbed up the stairs and a magnificent mountains of sand in front of us. As overwhelmed as we were by its size and height, we aimed for the tallest pile of sand visible, wobbling through heated, crumbling floor. Constantly consuming water, we walked for an hour and a half to reach the top, to find waves of sand going as far as visible. As beautiful as it was, the thought of being swallowed into the desert and never being able to find a way back sent a chill down the spine.

On the way back, we took the 1 yuan taxi which looked like a scooter with a flatbed attached to its back, towards the center. At the night market, it only made us excited for our next journey into Central Asia.