BACKPACKS AND BRA STRAPS
Chapter # 21 “Fowl Play”
Chapter #22 “Taking A Walk Down The Silk Road”

We drove for over an hour through the infertile, windswept landscape to reach Aydingkol Lake.

A few people lived in the small, derelict town beside the parched lake…

…digging random holes in the crusty ground to farm salt.

The whole area looked like a greyish-brown field that had been ploughed ages ago and had then hardened in the baking sun.

When the car first stopped I’d held my breath, thinking we’d broken down again, but the driver let us know we’d reached our destination by pointing to the tall Chinese monument…

…clearly labelled in red script ‘–154 metres’ (–505 ft). I was surprised that these deserted salt pans were even marked.

“Okay, we have a new contender for the End of the World title,” Ammon said excitedly as we stood at the edge of oblivion. “We’re way below sea level; this is the third-lowest spot on earth,” he announced, as if presenting himself with a trophy.

There were crunchy layers around small pools of extremely salty mineral water.

As we turned to leave, I was sure I saw Bree pocketing some of the salt. I wondered what she intended to season with it.

“Gaochang, the ancient capital of the Uyghurs, is set on the northern edge of the inhospitable Taklamakan Desert,” Ammon explained during the hour-long drive to the ruins.

It had once been a busy trading centre and a major rest stop for merchant traders travelling the Silk Road.”

Built at the foot of Huoyanshan (‘Flaming Mountains’), remnants of the crumbled city lay in the foreground.

“Initially built in the first century BC, the city submitted to Genghis Khan and his rapidly expanding Mongol Empire in the thirteenth century.

Though eroded almost beyond recognition, it was staggering to think these sand castles had been standing for over two thousand years.

Our next stop, the Astana Graves, was only six kilometres (3.7 mi) away. While Ammon was delivering his mini-lecture about the burial site, Bree was off doing cartwheels and handstands.

“Bree! Get down from there. What the hell?” Ammon shouted at her as she stretched out horizontally in a stone gateway.

The cemetery didn’t have the usual crosses and monuments you’d expect. Instead, it was covered with lumps of arid earth, so you’d never know there were over a thousand tombs.

In the open courtyard below were twelve human-sized Chinese zodiac animal statues.

Chinese zodiac animal statues

As we crept down the long, deep stairs into the tomb, I changed the subject. “So, are we going to go to Egypt, or what? Now that’s a place I’d be interested in seeing.”

In the small, almost chilly room, bodies were lying on their backs with their arms by their sides and their heads propped up on a pillow in two glass boxes.

And here she was, one of the few who were left for us to observe. She’d been an actual person with a real life, and her challenges and worries so many centuries ago were much the same as mothers today experienced. I couldn’t stop staring at her feet, trying to imagine the earth between her toes and the road she’d walked.

Turpan happens to be a world famous grape-growing valley, so we were taken to a lovely spot for lunch that felt like an oasis amidst the desolate surroundings.

The small restaurant was open and breezy, shaded by a thick covering of green vines heavy with ripe grapes.

As was the custom in China, the table was draped with a colourful plastic sheet that held plates, a plastic jar filled with chopsticks, napkins, and two hot thermoses of green tea.

We all overindulged in sweet, juicy cantaloupe, green grapes, and giant watermelon, delicious naan bread, and my current favourite, a typical Central Asian dish called lagman.

In the hotel where we had been staying in Turpan…

…we’d been enjoying huge pink-and-white-swirl ice cream cones that only cost six cents. They were absolutely scrumptious, and we still had no self-discipline when it came to eating ice cream, even after getting sick from eating them (according to Ammon, at least – but that was something we obviously didn’t want to believe).

Biting into a juicy piece of cantaloupe, Ammon said, “After lunch, we’re heading for a museum about wells.”

“The irrigation system is called karez, which means ‘well’ in Uyghur. Karezes are unique to this part of China, which is full of wells and underground reservoirs.

Grape-drying structures with tons of little windows lined both sides of the road leading to the karez museum, where the first exhibit explained the process in detail.

Drying grapes

A wooden fence prevented us from getting closer to the water, but you could still look down the dark, circular tunnel through a section of observation glass on the floor.

Our last and final stop of the day was at the remnants of the city of Jiaohe.

Built on a natural fortress up on a plateau a couple of thousand years ago, the remnants had been standing abandoned for eight hundred years. According to Tang dynasty records, its population was over seven thousand at its highest point.

Unlike Gaochang, which had enjoyed prosperity and growth under Mongolian rule, Jiaohe had suffered at the hands of the Mongolians when they did not submit.

The lifeless surface was like a blank chalkboard waiting to be coloured in, ready for the greatest of creations.

Ammon read us a last passage out loud: “Jiaohe was finally abandoned when it was destroyed during an invasion by the Mongols led by Genghis Khan in the thirteenth century.”
Chapter #23 “City Of Sands”

Just beyond the gates, we could see tourists riding on paragliders, sand boards, ATVs, dozens of trams, and camels that were tied nose-to-nose in an unsightly parade. Part of the magic of sand dunes is watching as the sand covers your tracks and become instantly flawless again as soon as you’ve passed, but what we found here was more like an overturned sand box.
Chapter #24 “School To Go”
Chapter #25 “Smuggled Goods”