Reality

Turpan to Urumqi

Distance: 190km
Scenery: B+

Road: B

Winds: D-

Climbing: pretty easy

Clear skies.

When I set out from Turpan, I didn't plan on cycling the entire 190km (118miles) in one day. My plan was to overnight in Dabancheng, which was 100km from Turpan. But when I got to Dabancheng after a tailwind assisted climb up a gorge, I felt good and it was still early in the afternoon. Dabancheng was nothing special and it was not worth spending the night there so I decided to push all the way to Urumqi, perhaps 3 hours away according to the pace I had set that morning.

And then I encountered the wind.
In February 2007 a train was overturned by winds in this section, killing 3 and injuring 30.

A businessman in an Audi pulls over to give me 3 bottles of water to help me through this section.

The tailwind turned into a headwind. Elation and optimism turned into self-reproach.

The road deteoriated as I got close to Urumqi, but I rode aggressively because I didn't want to ride in the dark. The bouncing around broke my rear rack.

As if to welcome me, the streetlights were just being turned on when I rolled into Urumqi. I was really tired but I was enjoying the exhilaration that one feels after accomplishing a task which has been the focus of all efforts for a long time. Urumqi has been the subject of my thoughts ever since leaving Kashgar and I couldn't spend a night in a small town knowing that all the comforts and food of a major city were just a few hours away. Like a kid, I couldn't wait to claim my reward.

But when I got into town, I had to contend with congestion and constant honking. I was hungry and tired so I checked into the first hotel within my budget. After a shower, I found cockroaches in my room. I went out to get a late dinner and many places were closed. I went to an internet cafe to check on a package of parts being sent from the states. It's being sent back because they can't find the address. People in the internet cafe smoke next to me and I can't stand it. They clear their throat and spit on the floor and the sound of it just grinds in my ears. Disappointment, it always happens. I pedaled furiously to get here, but in the end my paradise meets reality. I just hate it when small things get magnified in my mind until it makes me angry. A loss of self- control, understanding, and persepective. It's one of those things that I'm finding about myself on this trip that I don't like.

The following days were better. I found a new hotel at a good price. There aren't many touristy sites to visit so visitors without their own transport would find it a boring place. But I can ride around town as I wish.

Urumqi skyline from Hongshan Park.

That's Hongshan Park on the hill.

Gridlock

Nice internet cafes they have here. You have to register your I.D. card so they can keep track of your online activities.

My favourite part of Urumqi is the Wuyi night market where I ate dinner every night. We don't have places like this in the states, but in China it seems like every major city has one. Chinese people have an intense fear of loneliness. They always ask me why I travel solo, and every time they ask, they advise me to pair up with someone else. I acknowledge the drawbacks, but they can't seem to grasp the benefits.

Yes, it all seems very nice. The sleek skyline. The hustle and bustle of economic activity. Construction and investment everywhere. But that's just the surface of Xinjiang. The reality is much worse.

I met a French expat in the Xinhua bookstore. With my tan and lanky height, she took me for a Uighur so she asked me whether a certain English book that she was considering was a real reflection of the current Xinjiang political situation. I wouldn't know of course, but it was nice to be able to speak English after 2 months on the road. We agreed to have dinner later that evening at Wuyi with her Uighur friend Alfonso (not his real name).

We meet at Wuyi and eat at one of the stalls. I can tell that Alfonso is uneasy. He doesn't eat much and only drinks water. We converse in English and Carol tells me that Alfonso will be the next Che Guevara. Alfonso advises her not to speak about "sensitive topics". Alfonso gradually opens up. We finish dinner and go back to my hotel, where the 3 of us talk over cheap Chinese wine (Carol, being French had to have wine after dinner). Alfonso tells me about how Uighurs resent the Chinese "occupation" but they're afraid to express it because they'd be arrested or executed along with their family. He tells me about how he was arrested and interrogated for talking to foreign volunteer English teachers. He says that if Uighurs get into an argument with a Chinese person and it gets reported to the PSB, then they'd get arrested for subversive activities. He says that Uighurs live in fear and resentment. They had hoped that in 2002, when the US invaded Afghanistan, that the US military would also come to Xinjiang. They resent the eradication of their culture. Uighur language is taught in only a handful of schools, but everyone has to learn mandarin. Uighurs live in the poor outskirts of town, while the modern city center is inhabited by Chinese. They're being outnumbered in their own land. They see Chinese people getting rich, but their own standard of living has gone down. Alfonso is torn between going abroad because he "wants to be a free man" and staying with his people in his motherland.

So it's all a pack of lies.

Traveling through Xinjiang, I've never felt that it was a well integrated society. Rather, Chinese and Uighurs live next to each other, but separately. Each resents the other and both groups cling to their own ways.

Reality.