Proud to Be An American in Rural China on July the Fourth Living in a Big Blue Truck While Homeless and Unemployed and Probably Having to Live with My

2 July 2009

Kashgar for four nights—something of an amendment to the itinerary. Very nice to have extra time to just chill, as we've been on the move so long. But the resultant universal malaise means we've generally been very lazy about seeing Kashgar itself...the sights are pretty much limited to four: the biggest Chinese mosque there is (yellow, big); the tomb of the Fragrant Concubine (uh-huh); the Old City (Kite Runner filmed there, apparently looks like Afghanistan in the Goode Olde Days); and the Sunday Market (open every day). On the other hand, free wifi in the hotel's cafe means I haven't left excessively in the last few days, but have managed to upload photos to Picasa Albums (if you'd like to be part of the exclusive list of those invited to view them, drop me a mail and I'll add you to the invite list. If you're cool).

Yesterday wandered the Chinese bits of town, the Mao statue, crazy shops, etc. Grocery store with 19 varieties of chicken feet, that sort of thing. Poor Corrie managed to strip her fabulous ipod, and we've spent some time rebuilding that from the group's libraries...sorry for the 16th century chamber music, sweetie.

Dinner in the Old Town, where no Chinese appear to venture and all is terribly Uighur. Ate in a local place by the mosque, ordered six things from the photos (all expansively described as 'Happy Special Hot Meal'). Three were quite good, one was a plate of peanuts, one was a selection of gelatinous goo cut into chunks, and one was a bowl of dumplings redolent of mutton fat. Mmmm. Thing is, the good ones are so good that it's hard to understand how the crap ones can be so very bad. Corrie liked the goo, to be fair.

Am sitting in an open-air cafe on the laptop with Louise at the minute—8:45pm Beijing time, so bright sunshine and afternoon. A group of Chinese have just lit a round of rather rough-smelling cigarettes at the next table, and therefore cannot breathe currently. Must get used to hardship. Sigh. Poor me. Pity me!

Spent the afternoon shopping, dropped about $20 on various tat, mainly for Christmans gifts (hi, Cat!) and whatnot. I'm not giving it away, but Brian John will be pleased with today's results, I suspect...as he is obediently posting my blog for me, I suppose he deserves it. Planning to make some approximation of Ingrid's potato salad tomorrow, in time for a bit of a party on the 4th of July in a bushcamp in rural western China. BBQ chicken, burgers, good beer (does Sinkiang—brewed with melted snow water—count?) and an excessive amount of patriotic music, as obnoxiously American as I can make it. Bring on Lee Greenwood! We'll put a boot in your ass and fly Old Glory (or the stars-and-strips hankie we bought in a market in Kyrgyzstan) and allow fellow travellers to honour us as Leaders of the Free World.