Hello, after a very long pause visiting the internet. I am ALIVE!! And well in Karachi. Though you may have been worrying about me being here, due to the bomb blasts last week....there's nothing to fear, though you can not imagine the driving conditions here...me sidesaddle on brother Amrit's motorcycle racing through the night.
It has been fine here 2 weeks and 2 days now, but I'm going a bit stir-crazy. Every morning I step my way through 20 sleeping legs to get to the squat toilet. It's probably the longest I've been without running water...though there are mysterious times of the day when it does run and all of the water tanks and sinks overflow with water spilling through the house! Excitement all around.
Ikhlaq's father is patiently guiding me along with music and sarangi, and honors me with picking up the sitar...and I wish I didn't have to try to focus so hard and figure out how to replicate what he's teaching, but could just sit back and enjoy the beauty of it.
After the bomb, actually before the bomb, the door outside of the apartment was officially closed for me - as crowds and chaos ensued in the nebulous outside world. Then there was a strike that lasted another 3 days or 4, and even after no one wanted to let me go out and greet the sun. I'm very eager to take a vacation from my vacation, at this point. Finally last night after 2 weeks and only going out of the house once to try to get my ticket to oman, I was driven to see my friend Luqman (nephew of ustad mashkoor ali khan of calcutta, and friend of mine from korea! we both did time there). I had lost his #, so we had to drive around trying to find it, but we did, and he was very beautifully surprised to see me, and I met his daughter of 9 months, and his sweet wife and sisters and mom and gma.
Tonight I may do some shopping for material...I'm encouraging one sister to do some of her amazing stitching work for me to sell to friends back home - her work is beautiful, and if my idea works it will be the first time that she has ever had a means for making an income!! (More on the idea, email me if you have any interest in buying indian cloths!) Also heard something about going to Ala-Din, some game arcade that's all the rage.
Thursday is Ikhlaq's nephew, Sonu's concert at Alliance Francais; surely he'll play amazingly like the superstar he is.
Plan to go to oman for a week on the 1st, and then sometime the following week start to wend my way north and then back over the border that separates one land from itself....I have actually a lot more interesting plans than I'm letting on, but I'll have to save something for later... and still hope to update the last part of my china journey, when there's time.
For now, sending my love out to all my friends, hope all are safe, happy, healthy!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Friday, October 5, 2007
What Time? It's 9 o'clock AND it's 7 o'clock ??!!
XinJiang Autonomous Region (perhaps not very autonomous after all) has 2 concurrent time zones, making time itself seem a silly thing. One time is local XinJiang time, and the other is Beijing time - 2 hours ahead. Official things, like breakfast at the Chinese Tourist Hotel, and plane departures happen on Beijing time, and answers to 'what time is it' happen on local time. To make things equally exciting there are two languages spoken. I soon realized, as all the local Ughyurs get stuck with the worst jobs, all the taxi drivers are Ughyur. I got in a taxi saying, 'ni hao' and got a glare, realizing my mistake, the next time I got into a taxi I said, "Salaam Aleikum" and the driver replied with a heartfelt smile and "wa'aleikum a salaam". But, try to Salaam the Han nationals, and the same glare comes back, or rather a bewildered look as if we're speaking latin.
Watermelon season. Jujubes. Fresh flower peaches, grapes, apricot kernals.
We went to the shrine of Apak Hoja, the air of Sufis, somewhere beyond the mud walls. Akimjan, from the morning after the after missing official breakfast-time experience - peanuts cold pork rind and sugary white bread to dip in sweet and sour sauce, eeks..., guided us to China Air and to China Bank and back to China Air and suggested we eat chicken noodles at Entazaar Restaurant (delicious), took us to parts of the Old City, where the cobbler sewed my boots back together, lingering over the details to irk a bossy woman who then had to wait with her fists clenched for him to finish both of my boots zippers and back seam. There were some guys singing operatic 'happy birthday' across the way on the computers next to the W.C. We saw more bowed instruments, something called 'khoshtar' that had minah birds carved on the top. There were parrots in cages singing outside of the little grocery shops. Women wore skirts just below the knees with silk leggings and nylons over them; clicking high heels and scarves tied under the hair, men in mismatched jackets and suit pants, the pirs wearing Afghani style robes and long white beards.
Kashgar.
Watermelon season. Jujubes. Fresh flower peaches, grapes, apricot kernals.
We went to the shrine of Apak Hoja, the air of Sufis, somewhere beyond the mud walls. Akimjan, from the morning after the after missing official breakfast-time experience - peanuts cold pork rind and sugary white bread to dip in sweet and sour sauce, eeks..., guided us to China Air and to China Bank and back to China Air and suggested we eat chicken noodles at Entazaar Restaurant (delicious), took us to parts of the Old City, where the cobbler sewed my boots back together, lingering over the details to irk a bossy woman who then had to wait with her fists clenched for him to finish both of my boots zippers and back seam. There were some guys singing operatic 'happy birthday' across the way on the computers next to the W.C. We saw more bowed instruments, something called 'khoshtar' that had minah birds carved on the top. There were parrots in cages singing outside of the little grocery shops. Women wore skirts just below the knees with silk leggings and nylons over them; clicking high heels and scarves tied under the hair, men in mismatched jackets and suit pants, the pirs wearing Afghani style robes and long white beards.
Kashgar.
Kashgar, China - what was supposed to be our destination
So here we are in Kashgar - after a 4 day journey which went quite smoothly. How great to be in a "luxury" hotel ChiniBagh after last night invading the Khyrgustani family's house - paying brutally for it and having only a few bites of bread and yak cheese, and no bathroom but the bright jagged and dusty stones under the freezing cold of the full Moon. Sweet Muneera. I'm coming up with a story, weaving a past life tapestry of me as a Hunza girl falling in love with a XinJiang girl who came to visit and perhaps brought me back to China with her...but I couldn't stay, I missed the apricot valley too much.
We walked around the block to the old Id Ka Mosque from the 1400's. There was a 20 yuen admission (nearly $3) just to walk in, but it was lovely and peaceful, poplar lined and yellow archways. The to the KahLa (public bathroom - not a pretty site and required admission fees too!), into the handicrafts music store where a guy demonstrated the local violin which sits raised on the left knee facing out at arm's length, elbow holding it in place. There was even a double bass version, way cool. Talking calculators were passed over so we could type a price in, hillarious, really. At the little supermarket near the hotel I bought Colgate watermellon toothpaste (thinking of Daniel whom got me into the wonder of buying foreign toothpastes), a red bean bread, Nutri-Express drink, Piko chocolate bar, coffee ice cream bar, and this cute Pooh bear notebook entitled "you laughter is the suns i keep look for each day your voice is music to my ears your smile helps light my way" all for a dollar and a quarter - 9 yuen. Some of my Chinese is coming back. At least I can say, "hello, thank you, goodbye".
To the Pakistani Cafe for dinner. Beijing-Pakistan photo exchange happening, as a young Chinese girl asked a Pakistani guy how to eat the food. The Pakistani's speaking amongst themselves thought I was Russian, but weren't sure because I didn't speak. It was a far cry from the Hunza people who whispered guesses as we walked up the Karimabad hill - first Peshawar, then they guessed I was from Kabul! I spoke in Urdu to the Ughyur ladies in the kitchen and told them it was delicious. Sweet people everywhere, no hassles, no real out friendliness either - except maybe the boys outside of Id Ka Mosque trying to sell their golden butterfly pins. It's cold. Can't wait to use my watermelon toothpaste,now is the time!
We walked around the block to the old Id Ka Mosque from the 1400's. There was a 20 yuen admission (nearly $3) just to walk in, but it was lovely and peaceful, poplar lined and yellow archways. The to the KahLa (public bathroom - not a pretty site and required admission fees too!), into the handicrafts music store where a guy demonstrated the local violin which sits raised on the left knee facing out at arm's length, elbow holding it in place. There was even a double bass version, way cool. Talking calculators were passed over so we could type a price in, hillarious, really. At the little supermarket near the hotel I bought Colgate watermellon toothpaste (thinking of Daniel whom got me into the wonder of buying foreign toothpastes), a red bean bread, Nutri-Express drink, Piko chocolate bar, coffee ice cream bar, and this cute Pooh bear notebook entitled "you laughter is the suns i keep look for each day your voice is music to my ears your smile helps light my way" all for a dollar and a quarter - 9 yuen. Some of my Chinese is coming back. At least I can say, "hello, thank you, goodbye".
To the Pakistani Cafe for dinner. Beijing-Pakistan photo exchange happening, as a young Chinese girl asked a Pakistani guy how to eat the food. The Pakistani's speaking amongst themselves thought I was Russian, but weren't sure because I didn't speak. It was a far cry from the Hunza people who whispered guesses as we walked up the Karimabad hill - first Peshawar, then they guessed I was from Kabul! I spoke in Urdu to the Ughyur ladies in the kitchen and told them it was delicious. Sweet people everywhere, no hassles, no real out friendliness either - except maybe the boys outside of Id Ka Mosque trying to sell their golden butterfly pins. It's cold. Can't wait to use my watermelon toothpaste,now is the time!
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