I left Dunhuang, and China it seems, behind on a bus trip across the monotonous desert-scape to a town called Hami. I was now in Xinjiang, largest province in China and home to the Uighur people. I could have been in another country. Suddenly I found myself in an area where Chinese, in whatever form, was no longer the main spoken language; where people looked and dressed differently and had a completely alternative identity. This area, though fundamentally having more in common with neighbouring Central Asian states, has had a long association with China. However, as in places like Tibet, that association does not always sit well with the local population. There have been separatist campaigns, and China has crushed these with iron fists, flooding the area with Han Chinese immigrants in an attempt to strengthen control and influence. I couldn't say if this has had a long term effect, but out here it certainly didn't seem to be the case.
Hami was a bit of an unplanned pit stop. I had never heard of the town, but as a direct bus to Turpan was not available I opted to go halfway and see what connection I could get on from there. I was lucky enough to be travelling with one of the Japanese guys who I had shared a dorm with in Dunhuang, and he had a good idea of where he was heading. Between him being able to read and write a little Chinese and me being able to speak a little, we found our way quite well. He was there to see some specific attractions, which gave me something to do when I found out I couldn't get an onward connection until the next day.
This town was previously home to the Hami Uighur Princes, who controlled the area in conjunction with the Chinese Qing Dynasty from the 17th century until around 1930. I visited a sleepy complex containing two of their mausoleums, the Islamic style blue-patterned tile Bixir Mausoleum and more local style wooden Mausoleum of the 9th Prince and Taiji, along with the Heytikar Mosque. While I'd seen Islamic hints in some of the local new build architecture, this little complex blew me away. A complete change to all those red and gold Chinese temples, and a welcome one at that. Beautiful.
As shocking as the difference in architecture was the trouble I suddenly encountered with language. I completely failed to find the other historical sight because I couldn't find another Chinese speaker to ask! Eventually one woman, speaking to me in English, pointed me back the way I'd came and I just gave up and went back for some food. The difference in food had become apparent ever since I made my way to Ningxia and beyond, with pork disappearing to be replaced by lamb for obvious reasons, and becoming less spicy and aromatic. Now it was more about capsicum peppers than chilli peppers, more noodles than rice...and
real bread. Oh my God, real bread. I'm not sure I'd missed a food in China as much as bread. The Chinese always make it sweet. I don't know how you can mess up something as simple as bread, but outside of the major hotels in big cities even, it was almost impossible to get hold of. Here they not only baked proper, savoury bread, but different varieties even! One of the nicest meals I had here was simply a big crusty loaf and a couple of sweet peaches. Heaven.
I was only in Hami for an afternoon really, and the next morning after breakfast in the lively bazaar I was on my way to Turpan. This little taste of Xinjiang's Uighur culture had whetted my appetite for what was to come and I couldn't wait. Riding the local bus to the bus station my Japanese friend asked the driver what nationality he was. He replied, with a smile on his face, 'I am Uighur'.
I left Dunhuang, and China it seems, behind on a bus trip across the monotonous desert-scape to a town called Hami. I was now in Xinjiang, largest province in China and home to the Uighur people. I could have been in another country. Suddenly I found myself in an area where Chinese, in whatever form, was no longer the main spoken language; where people looked and dressed differently and had a completely alternative identity. This area, though fundamentally having more in common with neighbouring Central Asian states, has had a long association with China. However, as in places like Tibet, that association does not always sit well with the local population. There have been separatist campaigns, and China has crushed these with iron fists, flooding the area with Han Chinese immigrants in an attempt to strengthen control and influence. I couldn't say if this has had a long term effect, but out here it certainly didn't seem to be the case. 
Hami was a bit of an unplanned pit stop. I had never heard of the town, but as a direct bus to Turpan was not available I opted to go halfway and see what connection I could get on from there. I was lucky enough to be travelling with one of the Japanese guys who I had shared a dorm with in Dunhuang, and he had a good idea of where he was heading. Between him being able to read and write a little Chinese and me being able to speak a little, we found our way quite well. He was there to see some specific attractions, which gave me something to do when I found out I couldn't get an onward connection until the next day.
This town was previously home to the Hami Uighur Princes, who controlled the area in conjunction with the Chinese Qing Dynasty from the 17th century until around 1930. I visited a sleepy complex containing two of their mausoleums, the Islamic style blue-patterned tile Bixir Mausoleum and more local style wooden Mausoleum of the 9th Prince and Taiji, along with the Heytikar Mosque. While I'd seen Islamic hints in some of the local new build architecture, this little complex blew me away. A complete change to all those red and gold Chinese temples, and a welcome one at that. Beautiful.
As shocking as the difference in architecture was the trouble I suddenly encountered with language. I completely failed to find the other historical sight because I couldn't find another Chinese speaker to ask! Eventually one woman, speaking to me in English, pointed me back the way I'd came and I just gave up and went back for some food. The difference in food had become apparent ever since I made my way to Ningxia and beyond, with pork disappearing to be replaced by lamb for obvious reasons, and becoming less spicy and aromatic. Now it was more about capsicum peppers than chilli peppers, more noodles than rice...and real bread. Oh my God, real bread. I'm not sure I'd missed a food in China as much as bread. The Chinese always make it sweet. I don't know how you can mess up something as simple as bread, but outside of the major hotels in big cities even, it was almost impossible to get hold of. Here they not only baked proper, savoury bread, but different varieties even! One of the nicest meals I had here was simply a big crusty loaf and a couple of sweet peaches. Heaven.
I was only in Hami for an afternoon really, and the next morning after breakfast in the lively bazaar I was on my way to Turpan. This little taste of Xinjiang's Uighur culture had whetted my appetite for what was to come and I couldn't wait. Riding the local bus to the bus station my Japanese friend asked the driver what nationality he was. He replied, with a smile on his face, 'I am Uighur'.
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