Xinjiang and Sichuan Provinces (CHINA)
I just came back from an amazing yet emotionally grueling trip to Xinjiang and Sichuan Provinces in China. My friend Kathleen and I returned earlier than planned (30 days vs 40 days) because of itinerary changes and because, basically we’re really tired, both physically and emotionally. It was quite a trip, full of pitfalls and scary experiences, but we made it through, alive! So, first of all, here’s a detailed recap of exactly what transpired when we arrived at our first stop, Urumqi.
In Urumqi, we arrived one night after a massive riot ‘allegedly’ started by the Xinjiang Uighers killed over 140 and injured over a thousand. Our taxi driver had to pass through two checkpoints to get us to our guesthouse, which was located right where the fighting took place. 2 days later, the Han Chinese ‘allegedly’ started their own riot in retaliation, and we found ourselves right in the middle of it! It was the scariest experience I have ever had!
We were in the middle of buying tickets to a wonderful place in the mountains called Tianchi Lake when suddenly, shopkeepers all around us started packing up their booths, yelling that we should get back to our hotel, quickly! We were just a few blocks away and decided it would be faster to walk, but within moments we could see that everything on the street: shops, banks, hotels, was closing, the sidewalks filling with shopkeepers, employees and neighbours, armed with wooden bats, steel rods, pipes, pieces of wood, anything to fight with. We started running – our guesthouse was still a block away, but we found ourselves in the middle of two large groups of people, all armed. Most people just seemed to be waiting, to defend their homes/shops if it came to that; but it was hard to tell who was on whose side. A few people were yelling and really seemed eager to fight, to taste some ‘blood’.
The next thing I knew, we were pushed with others into a nearby 5-Star Hotel where the manager said we must stay, but cautioned us that they couldn’t be held responsible for our safety since we weren’t actually registered there (go figure!). After hiding in an upstairs banquet room for a while, we decided to take our chances and make a run for our guesthouse. In our minds, 5-Star Hotel would be a definite target, while our tiny, cheap Chinese guesthouse would probably be missed in a conflict. The last memory I have of that terrible afternoon was us running down our back alley, past more employees and neighbours, armed to the hilt, and racing up the stairs to our small room to hide.
Hiding was the worst thing, I felt. We had no TV and our Internet was blocked. Text Messaging was cut off, International Calls were cut off, and we couldn’t see anything from our windows. No communication whatsoever. It was the ‘not knowing’ that drove me crazy. By late Tuesday night I had gone through endless possible scenarios. I decided that early the next morning, 6am, we were going to head out into the street and try to make our way to the highway, hoping to get a lift to the airport, and out of there! I didn’t care if I died trying; I decided that I would rather die taking action than hiding out in a room, doing nothing.
Later that night, the woman in charge of our guesthouse returned. She told us that a lot of people had been killed. In fact, her husband had seen several of his fellow employees beaten to death before escaping himself. She heard our plans and pleaded with us to stay, to hide in our rooms for just a few more days – things will surely calm down by then, she said. Needless to say, I was even more determined to leave early the next morning. I knew this problem was not going to go away in just a few days, and I was not going to stick around until it did.
At 6am, under cover of darkness, we made our way out into the deserted main street, past several roadblocks manned with police and armed soldiers telling us to return to our guesthouse. Finally, one officer reluctantly pointed us in the direction of the highway, stating it would probably be reopened at 8am and then we might get a lift with someone. We were alone on the highway for about an hour; all we saw were convoys of tanks and busloads of soldiers making their way into the downtown area. But quickly, our luck turned.
A kind businessman, discovering that his internet had been shut down (guess by who?!!) decided to return home since he couldn’t get any work done. He picked us up and drove us directly to the airport – we almost didn’t get there, however, as we had to pass through yet another checkpoint where they demanded to see our airplane tickets. Luckily I had our original tickets showing Urumqi-Kashgar for a departure two days later. We lied and told them we had changed the departure date by telephone with the airline – it worked! Those tickets got us through the checkpoint, but I still had to pay full-fare for two new tickets when we arrived at the airport (my original tickets were non-refundable). But thank goodness I had those electronic tickets printed out!
It was pretty quiet at the airport; at first I feared it was closed. But things went pretty smoothly once we purchased our tickets and got through security to our gate. The airport’s tarmac was teeming with soldiers sitting in large groups, waiting for buses to transport them downtown. It was pretty creepy. I’d have loved to take some pictures, but knew it was a pretty bad idea. I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until our plane left the ground at 8:30am. Let’s hope things will be better in KASHGAR!!
Okay, I’ll be honest; a few more issues arose during our trip that could have threatened our safety (but didn’t). Stay tuned, and I’ll tell you more about them.
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