This blog has been dormant since I returned from Turkey, but I thought the trip I am currently undertaking was worth some explanation.
I have long been fascinated with Siberia and Central Asia, and viewed this last ever summer break (even a brief one) as the best time in my life to go through the challenge of visiting part of this region, which is either very expensive or time-consuming to explore. I chose time-consuming, and viewed it as efficient to add in some surrounding areas as well – thus 31 days following the extremely long itinerary Appleton-Chicago-Tokyo-Chengdu-Urumqi-Almaty-Novosibirsk-Irkutsk-Olkhon Island-Ulan Ude-Ulaanbaatar-Chengde-Beijing-Chicago-Appleton, with a few day trips to other sites likely thrown in for good measure. This post will cover the first two cities I actually visited, Tokyo and Urumqi, two very dissimilar cities (though in some sense an interesting content), but in neither did I spend enough time to devote an entire post to it.
I started my trip in Tokyo, which while due to extraordinarily pointless flight change rules ended up being a very costly excursion (it was originally just a layover), it was a good spot to catch my bearings and explore a little before moving on to much less developed regions of the world. I will not write too much about Tokyo, others with far more experience than me have done that already. But I can say that I was struck both by its incredible cleanliness and orderliness, as well as how empty it appeared for being the largest city on Earth. Architecturally, too Tokyo is interesting. Despite its current importance, Tokyo is a relatively new city by Japanese standards, and earthquake, fire, and American bombing have forced it to rebuild time and time again. Today, much of Tokyo looks like it was entirely built in the ‘60s and has not changed since – this is not unattractive but is fairly bland, though I must say I saw only a small portion of the city, which is very spread out.
Luckily for the tourist, Tokyo does have a variety of traditional temples, museums, and other sites interspersed throughout the central city – I visited some of the most prominent ones, the Imperial Palace, Senso-ji temple complex, and Ueno Park, all of which were quite beautiful and a welcome escape from the modern city (though these sites were far more crowded than the areas surrounding them). The imposing presence and deep cultural value of these temples show the interesting role of religion in Japanese culture – while few people are very devout, Buddhism and Shintoism have deep roots, as are other traditional practices (I walked down multiple blocks devoted purely to shrines for ancestor worship), and temples to both religions are often found in close proximity. I do think it would have been fun to spend some more time in Tokyo to go deeper into the many unique experiences one of the world’s most high-tech and creative cities can offer (I did get to visit an owl café, where a visitor gets to sit and play with dozens of owls), but still felt I hit the top parts before flying off to Urumqi (after an overnight in the Chengdu airport).
Urumqi is a city that is not described charitably by many guidebooks, and they are not completely wrong. It is a chaotic sprawl of modern high-rises and wide avenues, not the historic, vaguely Middle Eastern desert city I had somewhat imagined (and also somewhat hoped for). It has evidently rapidly changed in recent years, and its limited attractions are buried behind this selection of buildings and infrastructure similar to any city in the developing world. It is too far from anywhere to be worth a separate trip, and (located in the middle of the desert) uncomfortably hot at least at this time of year. Yet despite all this, Urumqi was still quite an interesting city, and one that is certainly off the tourist trail.
Urumqi is the most landlocked city in the world, located in the center of the Taklimakan desert and bounded on the South by the soaring peaks of the Tian Shan Mountains. Flying into the city made it evident how much of a challenge it is to maintain such a metropolis here, surrounded by deserts that looked from above like the surface of Mars that suddenly are turned into farmland show that even the most inhospitable parts of our planet can become centers of settlement – in this case because of the Silk Roads, and later the border conflicts and claims of various Chinese governments. Seeing Urumqi, thousands of miles from anywhere else of importance, now boasts more skyscrapers than almost any American city, and has traffic so bad that the government just decided to replace crosswalks with elaborate underpasses (this could also be due to the recklessness of pedestrians there), shows the true scale of the Chinese economic miracle. Urumqi, however, despite appearances, is not traditionally or truly a Chinese city. It is the traditional home of the Uighur people, a Muslim Turkic group that once alternated between raiding and allying with Chinese dynasties before being finally incorporated forcefully into China during the Chinese Civil War. Uighur culture is still prominent, at least in portions of the city. Their language (a variant of Turkish with Arabic script, though my knowledge of either language was no help in communicating) is found across the city, while many Uighur women still wear traditional dress, making them an obvious contrast to the modernly-attired Han Chinese migrants who now make up the majority of the city. Mosques are common, a unique sight in a Chinese city, and one that made me think of Turkey (though that could have also been the rapid development and tawdry commercialism). Urumqi has also been the site of a long-running violent separatist movement that aims for an independent Uighuristan (aka East Turkestan). While violent attacks are rare, the police checkpoints every few blocks, the metal detectors to even get on a city bus or enter a public park, and the military units stationed around the city, definitely show that the Chinese government views this threat seriously. This overreaching military presence, however, may have inspired the expression of Uighur culture that seems so out of place in the modern city, as well as religious faith. For someone with an interest in ethnography, Urumqi is a fascinating study – there are over a dozen other ethnic groups besides Chinese and Uighurs, and at least from my brief observation they seem to keep separate. Chinese is a certainly a difficult culture to adapt to, but Chinese control has brought an unprecedented geopolitical and economic clout to this once isolated region, and it is different to see an independent Uighur state maintaining this power.
Little I did in Urumqi deserves mention – a few parks (attractive but hot and crowded), the regional museum (disappointing, but had a few interesting exhibits on Uighur mummies and the cultural groups of the region), and the Erdaqiao Grand Bazaar (only useful if one likes traditional Uighur clothing and medicine). One factor that contributed to my lessened enjoyment with Urumqi was the complete isolation I felt – the city does not feel particularly exotic, but absolutely no English is spoken, and with Chinese characters I cannot even guess at a meaning enough to order a dish or understand a sign (pointing at various foods and sign language got me through, I should at least come back a better charades player), and I cannot tell the difference between someone approaching me to be helpful or to sell me something so it is difficult to interact in any way with the locals. I was also probably the only Westerner in this city of three million, something that all those who passed me certainly noticed, making it hard to pass unobtrusively. I doubt I would recommend Urumqi to anyone who is not set on visiting the region, but I still am glad I came – it is a fascinating cultural and geographic contrast, and not a terrible stopover point before a miserably long bus ride to Almaty, Kazakhstan, from where I will write next (assuming I can make it without being stopped by the border guards).