Mongolia Part 1- Girls Camp

Tired of spending the night in hotel room after hotel room, Zach and Tiffany decided to trade in the comforts of hot showers and heat for outdoor, nomadic-type living in traditional Mongolian ger camps. Our first 'ger' experience was at Jalman Meadows, located in the Siberian Taiga.

The camp was run by a strict and professional Mongolian woman and it showed in the camp. The ger Zach and I were assigned was beautifully decorated and sparkling clean.

The weather was chilly, particularly at night, but we soon became spoiled by the fire elves that snuck into our ger an hour before we woke up to light a fire in our stove.

No smelly outhouses here! The outhouses were constantly deodorized and stocked with toilet paper and even had a sink with soap!
Even the meals were dignified. We had tea time every afternoon, and meals were served with real plates and silverware. The meals were a bit heavy on mayonnaise-based dishes (everything from beets to carrots), mutton and meat fat, but we really couldn't complain since usual camping food consists of power bars and PB&J.

Although the region has been in an 8-year drought, our arrival seemed to please the rain gods, as it stormed a majority of our time in Mongolia. But there was just enough sun to power the solar panels, allowing us to get a lot of reading done.

We also spent plenty of time in the Genghis Khan library playing games with sheep ankle bones (apparently all the rage in the nomadic circles)...and dressing up like traditional nomadic herdsmen...During the few brief respites from the storms, we managed to befriend some of the furry locals. This guy looked pretty tough, but was quite friendly and gentle.

We even came across the remains of some furry animals, as the drought has been tough on many of the herds. Zach was eager to smuggle this home, but Tiffany was less than eager to integrate animal remains into the home decor.

Horses outnumber people 14-1 in Mongolia, and have been an integral part of life for centuries. So it was inevitable that at some point we'd suit up and give horse riding a try. We cavalierly overlooked the camp's warning of 'not recommended for unskilled riders', after all, we'd collectively ridden about 3 times in the past 5 years, that surely must put us solidly in the intermediate category.

We realized we might be in a bit over our head when the ger camp's horseman was sent out to round up our horses, as most of the time they roam freely. We found out through experience that Mongolian horses have a mind of their own and aren't one to follow commands, especially when they're coming from two green foreigners. To make matters worse, the saddles provided were missing pommels, as Mongolians traditionally hang on to the horse with only their legs. So when our horses broke into full-on galloping, something they did often, we had nothing but a corner of horse blanket under the saddle to cling to with our white knuckles. Needless to say, after a morning of each of our horses taking turn breaking away from our small group and galloping off into the vast, never ending expanse of grasslands, we both kissed the ground as soon as we dismounted.
While we were a bit disappointed with the weather, by the time we left for the Gobi desert, we had noticed a huge change in the grass. It had gone from a deadish brown hue to a bright green color after just 4 days!

Xinjiang - Muslim Chinese Farmers (pt. 2)

It's been about 2 1/2 months since leaving Shanghai now, and we started feeling the first pangs of travel-weary since the start of our journeys. Above, at over 12,000 feet elevation, Tiffany walks the famous Karkoram Highway, which leads from Xinjiang into Pakistan, as the Silk Road winds through the 20,000 ft plus mountain pass. It didn't help that she'd gotten her first bout of food poisoning since India, which made her not so excited about Xinjiang food anymore. Or that we felt like we were never going to get out of the hot, sandy desert at times. But she toughed it out, and we were rewarded with some amazing scenery, friendly locals, and another blog entry! Back in town, we decided maybe no more buying bread off the street was a good policy.

Kashgar is famous for their Sunday Market, where farmers from all over bring their livestock and produce to trade and sell. We watched hundreds of market goers checking animal teeth, taking donkeys out for a test drive, and haggling for their life to finally complete a sale. In many cases, there is a 3rd party negotiator that acts as the go-between between buyer and seller.
These two guarded their family donkey.
Tiffany found her favorite animal, a brown fluffy donkey. We watched an under-1 year old donkey (about this size) that was touted for it's (relatively) calm demeanor, sold for 1700 RMB, or about $220. Not bad, unfortunately Tiff knew her donkey would never stand to be checked in at the airport, and had no chance of fitting into her carry-on bag. Hundreds of sheep lined up for sale. Farmers would shave their flock in a distinctive style, like a brand, for identification purposes.
Another part of the market specialized in various handicrafts, like these fancy versions of the common Uigher hat.

This area of Xinjiang is famous for the "smallest hat in the world". How they know that, who knows, it's not actually all that small, but whatever. Zach is styling a tiny black silk number, with baby blue topping.
We came across this colorful brood in the old town of Kashgar (most recently used in the Kite Runner film due to it's proximity to and resemblance of Afganistan). This was the first of about 50 photos that this giggly group of girls demanded to take, swarming Zach after each one to critique the result, then running back to pose for the next one.

Zach closes the deal with a knife salesman in a town outside of Kashgar, called Yengisar. The blades are hammered out by hand, along with various handle types made of wood, bone, even deer antlers, and inlaid or encrusted with jewels, mother-of-pearl or other decoration. The salesman then took us up the dirt road to his home, where his colleage sharpened each knife while we enjoyed looking around their simple home. At the knife salesman's house, Tiffany and our guide, Aliya, relax for a moment. The family was incredibly hospitable, offering to climb their tree to pick us some fresh apricots for a snack while we waited for the knives to be sharpened. Aliya was a fantastic guide and was interestingly enough a Muslim (but recently converted Christian) who competes in Hip Hop dancing competitions when not leading hapless tourists around Xinjiang.

Tiff half-heartedly prepares herself for another Uigher lunch. Zach loved the "lakh man", made of fresh, hand-pulled noodles and topped with tomato sauce and slices of lamb.

Noshing in China?? Uighers are famous for their "girde nan" and love to eat it in the mornings. They were delicious, thick and dense, sometimes baked with salt crystals in the dough, and always crisp and extra chewy on the bottom, where they dough sat in the hearths. If only they had some low-fat schmear to spread on it...
No vampires here!
Fresh lamb for sale.
It was like the Cirque du Soleil of chickens, hung like they were acrobatically balanced in the air. It always struck us how non-chalantly large sides of meat were hung in the street.

A rare sight in the officially "no religion" China. Friday afternoon brings a crowd of the largely Muslim population to pray at one of the many mosques we saw in Xinjiang.
The most fuel-efficient vehicle on the planet!

The standard package in one of our hotels, the swatter unfortunately came in very handy.
At a silk farm, we watched the silk eggs getting boiled and threads drawn out, for these weavers to form into various scarves and clothing.

Part of the Himalayan mountain range, the snow-capped peaks made for a stunning backdrop as we visited Karakul Lake. The vaunted K2 mountain (named for being the 2nd peak of the Karakoram range), second highest in the world, is nearby.
Out in the desert we explored the Thousand Buddha Caves, home to an ancient monastary of Buddhist monks with individual chambers carved into the stone face.
Top 10 Jobs Zach Wouldn't Last 2 Days At - In order to prevent the desert from completing overtaking and obscuring the road (this was the Cross-Desert Highway, an ardous 12-hour drive we undertook one day), the government decided to plant vegetation along the shoulder to trap and filter the grainy environment. Unfortunately, some poor souls need to be out there to water the plants. So two people are hired to live in one of these desolate, oven-like outposts in the middle of the desert -- and water the plants every day. These buildings dotted the highway every 3-5 miles or so. One tour of duty lasts 3 months (after that you fall prey to desert madness maybe?) and pays about $400/month. Food and fresh water have to be trucked in once a week to keep them alive. Unsurprisingly, the majority of desert gardeners are not locals, but immigrants from another province who are just poor and unknowing enough to sign up for the job. When not even the native desert folks want the job, you gotta wonder...
A minor delay in our journey across the Taklamakan desert caused by some wayward camels.
A mosque and burial ground for the sacred Islamic Yarkent King, about a 20 minute walk into the desert. A sandy wind is swirling around, and Tiffany was not happy.Amazingly, even out in the middle of this desert, Zach found a bright flower somehow flourishing.

Xinjiang - Meat and Melon (pt.1)

From the cool mountains of Lijiang, we made our way back to the desert, into the furthest northwest region of China, a province called Xinjiang. Xinjiang is notable for being home to China's Muslim population, the native Uigher (pronounced "wee-gur") nation. They are a mix of ancient Ottoman and Mongolian civilizations. Xinjiang sits at the doorway to China for eastbound travelers on the Silk Road from Europe to Asia. It is a fascinating place, and very different from anywhere else we've been in China. Xinjiang produces much of China's fruit - and is famous for their watermelon (Tiffany enjoys this cup of fresh watermelon as much as for its sweet juicy flavor as for its economical 25 cent cost) as well as walnuts, grapes and a melon called Hami melon, from the Hami region. It's sort of like a crunchy, sweet canteloupe.
The Muslim influence can be seen in the nightly food markets, with savory smoke pouring off the lines of hot coals grilling lamb kebabs, along with fish and vegetables. This stand put together an artistic, if somewhat unsettling, display of the Xinjiang version of "Mary Had a Little Lamb (Kebab)"
Mountains of nuts and dried fruit provided flashes of color.

The province of Xinjiang comprises 16% of China's land, but only has a population of around 20 million. Considering that that is the same as Shanghai's population alone, we felt remarkably free and uncrowded, as can be seen by Tiffany stretching her legs along the deserted main highway which runs along the Silk Road.
The latest in Xinjiang's Baby Bjorn fashion. This one doubles as a high chair.
For a region that feels remarkably unchanged from the past, it is also quite advanced. While we have been traveling along the Silk Road, our Uigher guide has educated us on Xinjiang's ancient history. And it's been easy to imagine what life was like 1000, 2000 years ago, because for the most part we've witnessed the same, simple farming lifestyle, slow-paced life and easy-going people with a ready smile. At the same time, we've seen massive wind-power farms and oil and natural resource mining operations that point to the future development of this ancient region. We just hope they don't stop growing that delicious fruit!

Tiger Leaping Gorge - The Big Hike

One of the biggest natural attractions in Yunnan, and really all of China, is the Tiger Leaping Gorge, just outside of Lijiang. A giant mountain range with peaks over 15,000 feet high is split by a diving canyon called the Tiger Leaping Gorge, at the bottom of which the mighty Yangtze River winds its way through. Inhabiting the Gorge and surrounding area are the local Naxi people, who are mostly farmers.

There is a 15-20 mile trail through the mountains from one end of the Gorge to the other, through steep terrain, and frequent hazards, from slippery waterfalls to narrow wood planks crossing gaps high over the canyon. Weather changes are frequent, with heavy rains leading to dangerous washout and landslide conditions, or alternatively bright, burning sun to parch your throat and cramp your muscles.
This is the foolhardy 2-day journey that Tiff and Zach decided to attempt.

It started innocently enough, with absolutely no intentions of doing anything other than taking a nice drive up to see the Gorge, and maybe an hour or two of hiking around before turning back and heading home. Unfortunately, the few hours from their starting point was almost straight up, so that by the time the terrain levelled out and the brilliant views became apparent, the last thing our two intrepid explorers wanted to do was climb right back down. As well, they ran into two fateful, Israeli backpackers who promised, in return for some heart attack-inducing ascents and ankle-breaking descents, natural beauty unheard of in China and heretofore unseen if we continued further along the high trail. And animals. Lots of animals. And with that, Tiffany sealed their fates with a firm, "It's GO time." The decision was made to "just hike a few more hours until we see some cute animals, then go back..."

They would never come back that way again.

As it turned out, they hiked along the high trail until reaching a mountain lodge guesthouse in the afternoon. Three beers later at around 10,000 feet altitude, and there was no more talk of returning that day. In the great economics of rural China, those drinks, the ensuing dinner, one night's lodging and the following day's breakfast cost our two hardcore backpackers an astonishing $35! Instantly, talks of retiring on the spot broke out, and after heated discussions, the idea was firmly placed into the "maybe later" category.

The rest of the trip was exactly as the prescient Israelis had foretold. Stunning scenery, mysteriously carved cliffsides (in the picture below, look for a broad-nosed man and veiled woman), spring flora and incredibly friendly, hardy local Naxi farmers along the way. Oh, and some animals.