The Delicious Search for Dinner in Turpan

After a day of exploring ruins and covering a hundred miles of expansive desert landscapes, you come back tired and hungry. I drank some water, took a nap, and was ready to seek out a good dinner at the bazaar in the city of Turpan.

Lonely Planet advised to look beyond the obvious food stalls among the other merchants and so I went deeper. Down curving bustling alleyways, past fruit sellers, clothes, fabrics, household wares, pots and pans, hand tools. Through several areas of food sellers, looking for one that had the hand made noodles in a soup, and that had many customers (always a good sign in any town!) The smoke of kabobs on the barbecue drifted by thick enough to water my eyes. The smell of lamb on the grill made my tongue lick my lips.

I finally saw a stall with seating that was almost full of customers. The cart had 4 sizes of handmade noodles and a large pot of lamb broth. Each bowl was prepared for the customer, first with the noodle they wanted, then broth, then fresh spring onion and cilantro sprinkled on top. The broth had a hint of tomato, hearty meat flavor with a pleasant kick of spice at the end.

I sat with the other folks, all Uyger. The Uygers are the people I came to learn about. Their language and culture is heavily related to the Turks, and as a people they are 98% Muslim. Their faces can look Chinese, European, and Turkish. Some have clear blue or green eyes. The men wear woven square hats, and most women wear head scarfs. My dinner companions eyed me warily as we all slurped the tasty meal.

After eating, I got a slice of watermelon and walked through a Uyger neighborhood. I was adopted by a little girl, about 8 years old, bringing a stack of flat bread home to her family from the market. She hummed, danced, and talked happily to me in Uyger as we walked. Most houses had families sitting outside enjoying the cool evening air. Both men and women smiled at me, though expressions of surprise, glee, curiosity and mirth were clear on their open, friendly faces. When they laughed, it was good-natured and laced with amazement. Much kinder than the other countries I have been to so far. Not many Westerners make it to this part of China, and even less leave the finely manicured streets of the main drag. When we passed her house, the little girl waved enthusiastically and ran to tell her waiting kin about me. They peeked out and smiled.

This region is famous for its grapes, raisins, and melons. Sorry I won't be here in July to try the honey and musk melons! I had my driver take me to see the grapes and the little rooms they dry them in. I walked past a farmer and his wife working. I smiled at them. The woman looked incredulous as she yelled something to her husband. The driver chuckled so I asked what she had said. She told him, "You better not be looking at that Russian girl!" And he replied something like, "Wife, I'm not looking!" Most of the white people in this area are Russians here on business. Many of the signs are written in Chinese, Uyger (like Arabic) and Russian. Rarely any English.

I have gone to many of the "tourist" places, and they are alright. But I like talking or at least interacting with people better. The miracle of making a connection across a seemingly endless gap. Without language, religion or culture in common, connection can be made if both parties are open to it. The Uyger way is much more amenable to this kind of connection than the Chinese. They seem to carry their rich culture and faith in their bones with them. There is an ease and a quiet confidence in them that I think many Chinese have difficulty finding in their own culture. I'm so glad I came to see this part of the world where the Silk Road shared both directions, where Arabia and China collided and created an amazing mix of things that don't happen anywhere else on the planet.