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Tuesday 2004-06-08 - Esfahān, Iran
A dream come true
At the end of the afternoon we arrive in Esfahān; our hotel is conveniently located both for the city center and for the river which has several old bridges which I must see. Carla and I decide to walk to the Emām Khomeini square - the place I dreamed about before visiting Iran.
The square, with 500 x 160 m one of the largest in the world, is a sublime example of town planning - it dates back to 1612 and was designed and built as a whole. In spite of its huge size it’s a very pleasant space, surrounded by galleries, some mosques and a palace. It’s all at a very human scale: you don’t feel small here, you just experience a large but pleasant space around you.
At this time, in the early evening, the warm sunlight is still on the square, and it’s lively with people strolling, picnicking, flirting, biking, playing in the pond with its many fountains, taking a ride around the square in a horse-drawn buggy. While Carla goes off to have a look at the shops, I just sit on a bench for a while, feeling the space and drinking in the atmosphere, completely happy to finally be here — and just sit.
Later, we chat a bit with a woman (wearing a nice shawl around her head) who asked where we come from - as many Iranians do. She lives in the US now and is visiting, but originally she’s from Esfahān - here to show the city to her two young daughters. When we say goodbye, she touches my Aussie hat and says: “I love your cover-up; better than mine!”
Saturday 2004-06-26 - Kashgar, Xinjiang (China)
Renovation at breakneck speed
After changing money (first a little at the hotel shop, possibly illegally, then after some false tries at other banks more at the main branch of the Bank of China which is indeed open) we walk in the direction of the Id Kah mosque in Kashgar. The first thing I note, a way before we get there, is a big poster depicting the future of Id Kah square: all new design, rows of new shops all around … but when we walk on we find this vision isn’t that far into the future — in fact it’s nearly finished! A large chunk of the old town around the mosque has been torn down to make place for the fancy new buildings, some in quasi-Uyghur style. There’s a fence all around the are but we notice locals walking through various openings and doors in the fence to avoid making a long detour. While we’re watching this, a woman simply waves us through and we find ourselves on the eerily empty new square. We can walk around unchallenged. The new square pavement is nearly finished but it looks very strange without all the usual bustle and market stalls. After walking around some and taking pictures, we leave the building area again through a a half-finished building and another opening in the fence. Then we try to find another way into the old town — or what’s left of it.
Vegetable Market Road is open and physically unchanged but much quieter than I know it, probably because part of the market crowd has disappeared with part of the old town where all the shops and stalls used to be. Farther on, the old houses still stand, but they’re working on completely new road pavement. I wonder if these houses will disappear as well but at least the new pavement follows the old road pattern. Maybe not — or not yet?
China is busy renovating all of its cities in preparation for the 2008 Olympics but here in Kashgar there’s an cynical twist to it: the process of renovation (or ‘renovation’) has been going on for years already, driving the Uyghurs out of the city center to new flats at the outskirts of the city, and letting Han Chinese into the city (though their apartments aren’t all that much better). On the one hand, living conditions for the Uyghurs should be better in a practical sense, providing them with water and (better) sewer systems; on the other, culturally they are much worse off: they no longer have their old neighborhood mosques nearby, let alone the Id Kah (a Friday mosque); and if they’re not living on the top floor of the high-rise apartments, they have other people walking above them — something quite disconcerting for people who normally live in family dwellings around a courtyard. I feel that in a sense, it’s taking the heart out of their culture. This may not even be intentional: the supremely pragmatic Han seem to have no sense of the value of a cultural heritage.
Even two years ago, we found half of a large cemetery had been razed to make place for new apartment buildings (I was happy to have seen it before it was destroyed — it was quite impressive then). Now, the Olympics form a good excuse to speed up this renovation process. I can’t help but wonder what will be left here in four years’ time, and how far the Uyghurs still living here will then have to travel to go to the Id Kah mosque on Fridays. (The mosque is also used by Hui, Muslim Chinese, but they are a very small minority here.) Still, at least the mosque itself will be spared; two years ago even that wasn’t certain. But one of the charms of Kashgar was the contrast between the old Uyghur center and the new Chinese town growing up right next to it; at least some of that is disappearing now. It makes me sad — and makes me wonder what’s happening in Tibet now…
Friday 2005-09-23 - Xi'an, China
Living in Xi’an
After a restless night with lots of coughing fits we arrive at exactly 7:00 in the morning in Xi’an. After dumping our luggage in two temporary rooms in the Jie Fang hotel, I go out with Carla and Gwendoline to walk to the old Muslim quarter.
For Carla and me it feels a bit like coming home: not only is the hotel familiar, but both Carla and I very much liked Xi’an last year and we immediately have the same feeling once we walk out. Clearly this city isn’t as rich as Beijing: while people mostly are well-dressed, they’re not as fashionable; there is also far less building activity here. But Xi’an is still a metropolis — and somehow a very relaxed one.
On the way to the center a sudden movement in the corner of my eye draws my eye to the right and I notice a man playing with a cat: Through an arch there seems to be a living quarter. Made curious, we want to walk through the gate, only to be stopped by the concierge. We gesture we just want to have a look around but he clearly misunderstands us and seems to think we’re coming to visit someone. At last he understands and waves us in with a welcoming smile. We find small tree-lined streets with low blocks of flats, potted plants; each building has a big number painted on the wall, and a row of chairs along the main street. Near the entrance are two groups of mailboxes. It all looks very organized but at the same time cozy with a fifties kind of atmosphere. The people, apart from some personnel and two vendors with stands of vegetables and herbs mostly elderly, all smile at us: it’s obvious they’ve never seen a tourist here but don’t mind us at all, on the contrary. We wonder if it’s maybe a pensioners’ complex or whether the younger people and children are simply at work and school. I take some pictures, but it’s hard to catch the atmosphere.
Saturday 2005-09-24 - Xi'an, China
Lazy day in Xi’an
I’m up late after yesterday’s busy day in Xi’an. I have a light breakfast at the cafeteria downstairs (two delicious balls of vegetables with a spicy sauce but to my surprise they have no tea today!). The rest of the morning I spend checking out, parking my luggage in the luggage room and catching up with my writing.
After lunch I go out with our tour companion Marie Josee to scout out another Internet cafe she spotted in the corner of the square across the street from the hotel. We find it’s very hot inside (in spite of the fans turning on the ceiling) and more expensive than yesterday’s Internet cafe to boot so we go back there. It’s been overcast, very dark today, and just when we arrive at the Internet cafe it starts to rain lightly. After two hours typing and (mostly) catching up I stop: I had planned to walk around anther area of the city that we saw from the taxi yesterday; I’m afraid it will be too dark if I continue typing any longer.
Alas, when I get out it’s not only raining harder but also much darker than I expected. I walk to the old quarter anyway. Once there I try to take some pictures, smuggling with exposure times otherwise it’s impossible to take any. The area is very interesting in terms of town planning: tree-lined streets without real sidewalks but the houses are all built on a much higher level than the streets: the difference of up to two meters is bridges with steps up to the entrances and oblique walls; sometimes there’s a path on the upper level to reach the mostly walled yards. It’s really hard to describe — I hope my pictures turn out.
I give up on my other plan to climb the North gate of the city wall and take more pictures from there — it’s really too dark now. Clearly I’ll have to come back to Xi’an once more: there’s still plenty of interesting things to see and do here.
At nine we go to the station again to catch the night train to Lanzhou.
Tuesday 2005-09-27 - Bajiao, China
Prayer wheels in Bajiao
After some two hours we turn right and come to Bajiao, but our driver goes straight on to the the Baishi monastery first, over what is now no more than a trail, with here and there big muddy pools which have to be carefully negotiated. Alas, at the monastery a service is just taking place so we can’t go into the temple, only walk around the buildings a bit. A monk comes out and offers to take us up to the canyon where there is an “open air cemetery” where bodies of the deceased are laid out for the vultures according to an old religious practice. But it’s a long, steep climb — the alternative is to walk back along the trail to Bajiao and spend some time looking around the old town.
Carla, Gwendoline and I don’t feel like a lot of climbing or waiting around for the service to end (possibly for hours) so we set out to walk back along the trail. Just when we sit down at a nice spot to enjoy our packed lunch, the sun finally comes out, making the landscape looking a lot less bleak: it’s actually very beautiful now. Lunch break included, it takes us two hours to get back to Bajiao.
Bajiao is a town of historical interest, completely surrounded by a mud-brick wall of over 2000 years old which has 8 corners — a bit like a citadel except it’s not located on top of a height. Only here, in on spot in the lee of the wall are some trees: poplars, obviously grown for building wood. All the houses inside the wall (much newer than the walls itself but all traditionally built) have a yard surrounded by mud-brick walls, with piles of hay and straw in sometimes ingenious constructions to keep it off the ground; here, too, people are busily harvesting. Pigs are running around the street (which doubles as a little stream flowing through the town) but they’re not too keen on us strangers.
The town is very nice, with visual surprises around every corner because of all the walls. Admission to the town is 8Ұ, spent on nice things for the community. The people are very friendly though, don’t mind us at all while we walk around and peer over walls.
Somewhere we spot some wind-driven prayer wheels on top of a roof and we go find them: we find a small temple, surrounded by a wall; the door is locked though. Soon the caretaker spots us and comes with a key to unlock the door for us: inside is a tiny courtyard full of flowers and a small incense vat. The temple itself is tiny, too, housing a little altar before two big prayer wheels — with a difference: instead of being turned by handles on the bottom like most prayer wheels, these are driven by an ingenious construction with ropes. The caretaker demonstrates: one never has to step inside, simple giving a tug on the two ropes is enough to turn the big wheels which in turn sound a number of small bells. It’s a very nice, intimate and peaceful place — a wonderful experience. We leave a little donation on the altar and thank the caretaker, who locks the door behind us again.
Near a little shop we can observe a modern way of cooking close up: many people in this area of China have a parabolic mirror in their yard (we saw them at monasteries as well); it’s covered with little mirrors and at the focal point is a metal loop on which one can place a kettle or pan to boil water or cook something: free energy as long as the sun is shining, and very useful in an area with almost no trees.
Sunday 2007-04-08 - Shibam, Yemen
Manhattan of the desert
This afternoon we go with the whole group for a visit to old Shibam, which we passed yesterday on the way to Sey’un — I find it unbelievable that a visit to this city, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1982, was not part of the original planning.
Unlike most cities in Wadi Hadramawt which are built nestling at the foot of a mountain or little way up, the walled city of Shibam is built on a free-standing hill in the valley. Just one square kilometer within the walls, it’s not surprising that the large family houses here are narrow and with even more floors than usual, built closely together. The buildings are even higher than the mosque’s minaret. Indeed, the skyline reminds one somewhat of a city with skyscrapers, earning it its epithet - but there the comparison with Manhattan stops.
Through the single whitewashed city gate one comes onto a square, and from there on it’s a labyrinth of winding narrow streets and alleys and an occasional courtyard, between the high-rising houses. The predominant color is that of the clay tiles the houses are built from and plastered with, but sometimes the upper part of a house is whitewashed, and there are surprising splashes of color: here dark-red window frames, there window niches painted bright blue; bright red or blue curtains (often on the outside of the window frames) flapping in the breeze, the lower part of a wall facing a courtyard painted a very bright green. In between all this troops of goats roam around, women go their own way in there elegant flowing black robes (often covering them completely, including a face veil, and often even black gloves), children are cheerful, and sometimes eager to be photographed (but not all). One can roam around here for hours and never be bored: it’s feast for the eyes.
Suddenly we hear music and follow our ears — we’d spread out as usual, but now we all arrive where the music is. There’s a growing crowd in the street, a little procession with musicians in front walks up and down — what’s happening? After a while it becomes clear: another wedding is taking place, the first day of it here. I don’t manage to catch a glimpse of the groom (or bride) but after walking up and down several times the musicians sit down at the edge of a big carpet spread out for them in the middle of the street. This becomes the dancing floor where the men dance, in small parties, taking turns. Unlike in Sana’a though, we’re not treated as special guests, and have to find our own (polite) ways of catching some glimpses. Still, most of us hang around for quite a while until it’s nearly time to go. The music and dancing made our visit to Shibam extra-memorable.
Wednesday 2009-05-20 - Esfahān, Iran
Where is the river?
In spite of the long trip yesterday, it was quite beautiful, and I´m glad we saw the petroglyphs hardly any traveler gets to see, so I don´t regret we gave up one day of Esfahān for that. But what´s left turns out to be much less than a day: instead of having a flight to Mashhad at 20:00 from here, we actually have a flight at 16:00 to Tehrān and fly from there to Mashhad, which means we have to leave the hotel already at 13:00. And with the very late night we had, we´re not getting up very early either. I totally give up my plan of walking along the Zāyande to the farthest bridge (a walk of at least two hours to get there): I’ll have to do that whenever I get back to Esfahān.
Before breakfast, I ask at the hotel reception desk about an Internet cafe. To my surprise, they tell me they have Wifi in the hotel lobby. I quickly get my netbook, and try. Sure enough there´s a signal: I just have to ask the receptionist for a WEP key (a password for the connection), and I´m in. I immediately log off again: I´ll check my email for any news from Mashhad when we get back. We quickly have breakfast, and head out for a walk: Carla, Uke, Ank and I.
Our first goal is the beautiful Si-o-se bridge (named after its 33 arches): beautiful as ever — but the river is not: it´s just not there any more! There is nothing more but a few small ponds of water, the swan-shaped water bikes resting sadly and uselessly on the mud. People are actually crossing the river across the bedding: it´s quite dry enough to walk on easily. What a strange sight! Since we have just a little time, we walk across the bridge, have a closer look at the river bed and the swan boats, and then walk back leisurely, taking quite a few pictures (at least I do, trying to catch the strange sight of the bridge crossing a disappeared river). We find out there hasn´t been this little water in 7 years: they closed the locks farther upriver so there would at least be water for agriculture, where it´s needed most.
From the waterless Zāyande we walk to the big Emām Khomeini square — one of the largest in the world an the most beautiful one I know. There’s no time to walk around (though I´d love to do that again): we have to pick and choose, so we go the big Emām Mosque. We walk around there, enjoying the spaces and unique tile mosaics here (with a bright yellow that really stands out and I don´t remember from anywhere else) — and then suddenly it´s 12:10 already and I have to rush off to the hotel to check my email before we leave. The good news is there is no mail from Mashhad, so our meet-up is supposed to go as planned (more about that tomorrow). The bad news is there is an email from SmugMug that my account there needs to be renewed by June 4th, and my credit card data is no longer valid so I need to update my account data: no problem — if only I had thought to bring my SmugMug password… that turns out to be the beginning of a long story that will be told in its entirety later.
