Kashi
Kashi, wrote these words, my eyes can not help but emerge out of that khaki-colored dusk Kashgar Old City. I remember a few months after returning from Xinjiang, the day see in a magazine to write an article Kashgar, you suddenly feel that this kind of hovering in my mind for a long time, but no idea how the expression of an idea by others talked accurate out and moved to a time I do not know what to do. Then I went back to sleep inside a Kashi, everything is so true and clear. I do not know when to wake up from a dream, a flash, I'm really confused, I do in the end where you are? Exaggeration Mody? 've Been to Kashi you must understand it.
Around midnight, with a night market on the buy Kaoquan Yang, carries forward to the Silk Road Pearl's yearning, I again set foot on the West to train. The car is still crowded, Uygur people, the Han people, dressed in robes of Pakistanis, making the whole car like a bustling market, a variety of language floated into my ear, as if flying in front of strange symbols. I am curious to look around.
Night slowly deep, and people began to sleep, but I still feel strange because they did not weariness. Not far away, a few Uygur girl caught my eye, a tall man, white face, thick and clear outline, but without losing handsome. Along the way they sang a wide variety of songs, Uighur, and Hong Kong and Taiwan, and singing it mildly pleasant, but also accompanied by a burst of laughter broke out from time to time, although I do not know what to say they can still feel it was filled with youth happiness. I do not know when will I sleep until Hun Hun.
Once again opened his eyes, the train has passed Bachu, the window has no green, only occasionally passing a small oasis, a tree, under a low mud house, a few barefoot child standing on the Uygur the roadside, waving excitedly toward the train, and her mouth I do not know said, shouting what. However, such a scenario a few seconds then disappears, the window is still a desert, is yellow sand.
Opposite girls and I finally began to speak. Feeling increasingly better.
At noon the train arrived at Kashgar. Railway from the distant coast has been extended to the deepest inland, and finally in this screeching halt. Would like to think of heaven and earth at the end of the general feeling is extraordinary.
With a little worried about the language issue, I am with the outbound flow of people come to Station Square, by the way has also made a few on the wall advertising the hotel phone and address. Bought copies of maps, a simple study a little, I decided to go to town to say. Pakistan car conductor is not very good-looking Uygur woman, speaking in a very non-standard Mandarin to me: "vote buying (it sounds: cast a glance, selling to xia)." I do not know how to describe her, very thin , a high profile quite rough, looked neither gentle nor beautiful, but I was suddenly beginning to think she was full of cute. In particular, the Ottoman juice is covered over two eyebrows firmly in between the eyebrows at the company together, so I think that is fresh, and fun. Dealers on the way up a little old and a two Uygur woman, just one empty seat beside me, who, after Aunt you can sit down, they would li Nueliao Nue, pat half of the vacated seat, indicating that young women are also to sit down. She is also not polite crowd the room. Looked at me surprised look, Aunt rumble to tell us what presumably will look like words. If I feel angry I Daomei, because in their eyes this may simply deserved bar. As well, packed the next three, why do you let a man do standing up. I smiled, out Nuele Nue, they have rumble a pass, anyway, also speak the same language, I do not understand a word.
On the road as if experiencing what circumstances, and the police stopped the car up, are not allowed to move forward. The driver immediately put an old car drove into the alley. There is also a small bazaar, flower hats, flower scarf in the car window shaking. The driver desperately sounded his horn in the streets of the sheep is called desperately. My nerves suddenly excited. So I started wandering in inadvertently in a khaki-colored exotic Kashgar years.
Qiguaibaguai, minibus finally a xiangzikou stop. Originally a military exercise, martial law in the city immediately, and just outside the city on the way to lead but also because of military vehicles blocked. I am a bit excited, that was carrying loaded guns to be true then, I heard that the scale is not small, be regarded as a small bar to open eyes.
For transportation convenience, I started along the South Liberation carpet hotel search. The road not far from the Grand Cross of the guest houses 30 one-day double-ting and my appetite, stay there a. Drop packets to rush out to do something living to bear the brunt of that is running a border permit. This is because when the door has no intention to Khunjerab, but also consider this issue no. Alas, he seems to be useful next time out control is useless, first-line Prepare all the necessary head of the talk.
I can look out of a dumbfounded, as well as the People's Square in the vicinity of the road are a few related martial law, and a taxi is not running. The next day was Sunday and I where running a呀! Around a few blocks, and finally discovered how both can not evade the past, I also gave up. By the way to the coach station to ask about Taxkorgan shuttle, the answer made me discouraged, and go to Tuesday only, but also the way how do I do next then, is not a man chartered to Khunjerab Mody? It seems a bit impractical. There is no perfect thing, it seems this longing only to stay until the next Zaiqu achieved.
Go to the people of East on a military vehicle vehicles opened over, soon, from west to east on the street waiting to review the whole of the soldiers are lined up, I do not know how many people because it is no end in sight啦! Heads came, tanks, artillery came, powerful and has a pass, parade has ended. At this point in time, GMT 18:00, Xinjiang time of 4:00, I stood under the sun more than two hours. Valuable time ah!
I can not wait crossed the road, although Muztagata almost destined to miss with me, and the total is still not willing to ah, or to see if there Probably. I hit a taxi straight to the Department of Border Service. Frustration to get there early no one to work. Alas, the lost hope.
Think of color over hotel was nearby, I ran to rent bicycles, Xi Chen, when the sun began to ride to the tomb to Apahuojia. On the map selected a line, I started Mengdeng, at least in the dark before the play bar back and forth. Several Uyghur kids happy when I passed in front of them waving to me, said: "Hello!"
Stumbled quite accidentally into, I ran into an old city of Kashgar. Narrow alleys, closed the big wooden doors carved with fine patterns wrapped in metal, tape recorders inside came the sound quality poor Uighur wonderful melody (perhaps also not fully known in Arabic) song. I am a little vagrancy, and here, and I just stood in the street more than two hours of Kashi seems to exist in two different time frames, the feeling is like a trip through time and space tunnel, broke into the Arabian Nights in the world. Back to reality, criss-crossing the alley like a maze, I completely lost my way. Seen standing in front of a door Uygur Aunt, I Coushang went to ask for directions, bad, do not understand. And then move forward, continue to ask, or do not know, this could be what to do! Fortunately, finally walked out of the maze. I continue to ride outside the city to go.
Following a path, we found next to the wood carvings are hand done some workshops, some of them the exquisite decorative doors and windows, wooden bowls wooden spoon, and many I do not know What is the purpose of the objects. Wanted to come back and buy, do not want to but you can not find the street.
Passing through Central and West Asia market, and then riding on more than 10 minutes to the entrance of the village Kokand. Head carriage came on and I sitting Yiwangerzhi is the same as tourists. Under the setting sun, with tassels of the carriage rattled long gone. I set off along the shade of the dirt road has been to Apahuojia tomb entrance porch exquisite, elegant ornate hall, people here is unbelievable cemetery. Visited the circle out of the sky gradually dim. Passing through the door in the West Asian market, I can not help but looked into the colors and goods simply dazzled me. Tomorrow visiting the bar, not to Khunjerab, I had plenty of time to speak.
Come back to the hotel has a car full of color, I went to the Id Kah Mosque, because I heard that the night market is very lively. Through an old street, the fading light, of smoke-filled barbecue stall for depriving I move no step had. I stopped outside a small shop, a 34-year-old girl is holding a bunch of foot to long barbecue efforts to fight with. She also had before it a bowl of Pachyma cocos tea, buns and Nang. I raise my camera, intend to take pictures vivid picture of this simple, but it looks a bit shy little girl looked at me, smiling. I simply sat down opposite her, but also a string of barbecue to share her happiness.
Here is the Nang pit barbecue grill, and a string of almost a foot long, is different from the usual eat a kebab, it should be is Nang pit pork. It is extremely giant incense. Wiped out my ideas, that string of barbecue, I stood up, waved goodbye to the little girl continued to walk to the Id Kah.
The square outside the Grand Mosque has been bustling up, and I found a booth to be a bowl of yogurt to sit down and drink, enjoying a share of leisure and pleasure. Burst of upbeat music with a small truck came to the Square, the car in the square since the weeks around the circle, followed by Cha Du-ri of the three boys also enjoy the Chuichuidada, the atmosphere of joy with everyone. I asked the person next to a Uygurs This is what to do, but unfortunately he did not know I am talking about some Han. I think this question should be accompanied by my whole life, and do not want to Urumqi erdaoqiao eat near a Guanzi Li Shi You have heard this music. I asked excitedly across the young man, he is not the standard Chinese language, said: "Uygurs marry. Uygur people, a man and a woman, get married." So that, no wonder that kind of happy and cheerful music.
Kashi night than during the day seemed to many lively, Arab-style music everywhere, and everywhere the streets are all human. Head of the Uighur woman came to the Ottoman juice are often painted thick black eyebrows, and I began to see the used less strange. Drilling video store, almost all exclusively Xinjiang, a local singer's CD or the soundtrack, the film is almost the whole of Pakistan. I just began to wonder what is the meaning of Chinese in here.
Night slowly deep, and I have been returning to the People's Square, where it is exactly the peacefulness, a Shule County and dance performances are square. Midnight GMT, Xinjiang time 22:00, but there seems to be another evening of Kashi an hour of the bar. People mood is thick, but I really sleepy Buhang Le.
Back at the hotel, where Dao Hai quiet, I was soon asleep.
Early morning, they are hungry and woke up really terrible, not great bright days do, I can do where to find things that fill his belly! If you do not Pamir, then it is just about to go tonight. I decided to go take a look at the morning Kashgar Old Town, and then to buy train tickets, just go back on the road visiting the bazaar of Tuman river today, but Sunday Yo, there are big bazaar day.
Went to People's Square, passing the street is the old city of. Is not yet full light, Kashgar Old Town where quiet last night, the noise had disappeared, I began to Xinmayoujiang saw what alley eyesore, it plunged into. Walked, I found myself lost again, no matter that I walked into the alley, seems to be no end, but also there will always be N of forks in the road appeared in front of. I also gave up the idea of finding the way back, anyway, can not lose, casually stroll bar. Began to open the door, and almost all carrying a trash barrel out of the girl, yawned, with bare feet. Sometimes there are sandwiched books boys and girls, as is to go to school. In an alley at the foot of the wall around the corner sat beneath a sleepy-eyed little girl like four or five-year-old bar. She looked at me and passed, I waved to her, walking in the past. Turned round, they discover that she still looked at me, it really is a wonderful picture, I immediately raised his camera, this moment of the scene preserved. Passing through a door, two Uighur men were squatting Nang Hang on a furnace oily Nang just grilled, distribution of the surface incense. I do not know too hungry or fresh-baked Nang really delicious, I just feel delicious to the extreme.
Finally out of the maze of alleys, street shop began to shore up the arbor to do business, and a pile pile of Nang has also set out. I can see Hui Pao head straight from the hood to the foot of the woman. At that time a little bit to know why only now realized that only a strict compliance with Islamic rules Bale. There is an old man sat on the floor at the roadside, people passing salute to pay tribute to him. I would like to take a photograph to be afraid of committing other people's taboos, worth mentioning in mind bar.
Re moving forward, unexpected discovery of a flower hat market, N a variety of flower hats, are my last night in the Grand Bazaar have not seen, I have a Tiaohua Yan had. Last spend 30 Tai Yuen bought a top hat looks particularly exquisite, inquire of the People's Square of the road, contented away. To be honest, ask me again that bazaar where I can not find the dead.
Bought a ticket at the train station inside out, back carefully looked at Kashgar's railway station, red brick architecture, minimalist atmosphere, again, in the almost invariably appear in the train station was very seductive shape.
Today the sun are particularly good, I have the car under the Tuman River, the way Yanzhao He walked over. Came face large group of sheep, on both sides of the road began to swing-up of a variety of stalls, from the fruit, medicinal plants to livestock and even wood, there are several barber began to spread also do business. People began buying and selling transactions, a group of people get together to bargain next to the goat as a commodity in the hands of buyers happy nibbling grass. Of transactions, and sellers grabbed the buyer's hand, a high-five for the Union. See I am elated. It is too interesting. To the foreigners visiting the Bazaar a lot like the novelty of watching all of this, from time to time to raise their cameras.
A twelve or thirteen-year-old boy into my line of sight, wearing a gray suit and getting bigger, his head is the Uygurs common cap, back back in a big sack, and he looks quick as high. He selected a place to lay down their sacks, open, turned out a sack full of Nang! May be discovered that I was looking at him, he raised his head and cast a glance of my one, and then bowed his head disapprovingly Nang pile to pile into two.
And then move on to the Central and West Asia on the market, which is commonly referred to as Grand Bazaar. Yingjisha knife is a must buy, while the rest would easily see through!.
And these may be shrewd bargain Uygurs is fun, I often laughed, then said they do not go on.
I stopped at a tool Tanqian feet, eyes on a beautiful knife. The boss is looking a bit wooden sub-Palestinian Lang. He wanted to set the 80 are not promoted, when the young man next to him at home Minato over, holding a knife to me demonstrate: "a good knife! 50, 50." I quit, he grabbed my hand, patted force, "45!" I hand drawn back, not do not do. He grabbed my hand, Yongliyipai, "40!" I said 20, and finally 30 transactions. Surprisingly, he brings me pull his own stall prior to pick up a mosaic of red and green beads with a beautiful knife, pointing to the knife handle to me said: "The bones do." And then took the knife, I just bought two each draw one, it seems really sharp even more. "30, sold at cheap prices." I said no, just bought one, do not, unless you help me put what I wanted to bring back the. Your knife is good, just why I bought him! He said that Pakistan Lang grinning child can not speak, I can not steal his thunder do business. You buy him a buy one, I do. Looked at him like a little cunning, and I could not help laughing, and I'll buy 20. Deal! In fact, it seems just for fun Bale.
Then I spotted a side-drum, there are fifty to sixty centimeters in diameter, brown-black drum heads seems to be particularly old, knocked up and then a loud deep voice, I look to put it down. However, a price I almost fainted: 280 is the ocean! Thought was very reluctant to lay down, and can turn full circle and found that there is no which can only be comparable with it, and severely heart I turn back. Next to the stall of a teenage son of Pakistani Lang scrambled over, I asked him if he would beat Mody, he improvised the name of tambourine dance. I asked the boss 60 Maibu Mai, who uncle flew Shou Wu forehead, doing painful subjects. Looked at him funny looks, I almost laugh. Several rounds of bargaining, even to 60 deal, really let me pleasantly surprised! Uncle also told me demonstrate how to play tambourine, then asks me do you still want to buy anything, I said, grinning buy more of you are not loss. That he is a pain-stricken face, funny and lovely. I am carrying a tambourine continues to turn my heart proud of the music bloom. Many people ask me the way and spend money, after listening to No price envy. Oh, seems to be quite cheap.
Came out from the Baja, I gain addition of a whip, a large bag Baixing dried raisins, at noon to the post office sent a home.
In the Grand Cross of where I saw a few bike backpack and spare tires tied to foreigners, a question found it was intended to ride Khunjerab, over ports to Pakistan.
Take a look at the time still early, I was plunged headlong into the old city of Kashgar. Not leave, I had already begun to miss the. Standing here, with a total feeling of a kind of Manasarovar, it seems that time stopped, outside of the bustling, impetuous, with modern technology and so on, are nothing to do with the world.
Standing on a Tanqian books, I readily turned over those who do not know where it comes from, I do not know what era books, a Uygur elderly person asked me: "Han people? The Japanese?" "Han people," I said. He nodded. I suddenly thought, in those waving hands, "Hello, hello" say hello to me in the eyes of the Uygur children, those of us tourists what difference does the Chinese, Japanese, Westerners are the same is hacking into their world outsiders.
In the evening, and I reluctantly left for Kashi, the train starting of the moment, a kind of impulse to tears, so that the impression that I've never experience before.
Author: youngxy
