navigate:
Sunday 2004-06-27 - Kashgar, Xinjiang (China)
No Sunday market
I wake up with a cold, and my foot still hurts after our rather long walk yesterday, so I decide to pass up on the Sunday market today; after all, I’ve been there already, I don’t feel as though I’m really missing something. After dozing a bit longer, I go outside and sit at a table on the terrace at John’s Cafe to catch up with writing my journal, strengthened by a large pot of jasmine tea (free). That may have been a good choice: when the others come back I understand not only were most disappointed at the animal market (as I was two years ago, when it had already been moved to the outside of the city) but the Sunday market is now in a brand-new building — another sign of the breakneck speed at which Kashgar is changing — I can keep my memory of the way it was.
The drummer gets his portrait, too
I’ve gotten fidgety after sitting and writing all morning so after lunch I decide to go out for a little walk. I’m curious to see what’s left of the old town of Kashgar East of the Id Kah square, behind the department store building, so I head in that direction. Besides, last time I photographed two Uyghur musicians in that building — I’m hoping (vaguely) to find them back. And I’m lucky today: when I arrive at the building I hear drums, though the sound is coming from the other side of the street; I look over — and immediately recognize the drummer from my picture. Different doppa but on the same head, similar old-fashioned jacket, same way of moving and drumming — there’s no doubt in my mind: it’s him; he’s drumming together with a young boy. The department store has an underground floor which goes under the street and further below the Id Kah square, so I use it as an underpass and go to the musicians. Like last time, the old man is instructing the youngster at the large drum (good to see a bit of culture being passed on); I stand aside and smile at him, waiting for a break in the music. He smiles back, and plays on; and on. The young boy at the big drum is actually quite good and eager to practice but after a little while an older boy takes over from him — he constantly misses a beat. Finally, there’s a break, and I show my picture to the old man — his smile immediately widens into a big grin: Yes, that’s me! When I give him the picture, his delight is unmistakable and it’s carefully put away in an inner pocket. He then gestures that the zurna player from my other picture is around here somewhere (his instrument is leaning against the wall right here!) but I don’t see him anywhere; but when I want to walk away, the drummer waves me back: he’ll give it to him. This picture goes into a different pocket.
Behind the department store building I find to my delight that part of the old town is practically unchanged — but for the work going on to put new pavement on the street, and below that apparently new sewers and conduits for cables. Whether the Uyghur buildings will survive, I cannot tell, but (as we saw in another part of the old town) the new road simply follows the old street, curves and all.
When I get back to the hotel, I’m simply too tired to go to the hotel business center to go online - I walked much farther than I had planned but I’m glad to have seen a relatively untouched part of old Kashgar: in spite of the fast changes, and contrary to my initial fears, Kashgar is still a nice town, not in the least because of the very friendly inhabitants.
