In the Name of Security

Many, many people ask me if I feel safe in China when in reality I do not think I have even lived, visited, or thought of visiting anyplace nearly as secure. In Shanghai I rarely saw People’s Liberation Army officers or police officers. Actually, the only times I see cops are when they hassle the street vendors for selling food without a license.

Xinjiang Province is different. I was stopped at a police checkpoint sometimes as often as every ten minutes along a straight desert road. Occasionally we were even treated to an overzealous young guard who inspected the engine and car for explosives. I’m not sure how accurate some of their tools are though since my bag set off one of the wands. I think only sudden panic of being buried under a mound of Western underwear drove the young cadet to stop me from opening my bag for a closer look.

Even some local Uyghur towns took up the security cause and set up make-shift check points with slender poplar trunk barriers counterweighed with hanging boulders, making them easily drawn.

Our protection was taken so seriously that the military manned the checkpoint as we traveled to Karakol Lake, thirty kilometers from the gateway to Afghanistan and Pakistan. We were even protected from our Uyghur guides and had to use a Han Chinese guide to take us up to near oxygen-needed altitudes on a little sibling to the nearby K2.

To continue with the theme of protection, Uyghur dominated Old Town Kashgar was scheduled for demolition. The government feels the two story stone and brick buildings that have stood for hundreds of years might not survive a massive earthquake so the entire population is being relocated to tall skyscrapers on the edge of town. The destruction was scheduled for one week after we left.

A labyrinth of narrow alleys opened to courtyards and mosques. The domain of laughing children, they ran passed us playing games with rules made up on the spot. The larger streets felt even smaller with vendors packed along each side selling their wares of everything from wool caps to raisins and loose tea. As a brilliant marketing tool, pedestrians were forced to walk close to the stands while donkey carts forged through the center of the road along with small flocks of herded sheep. All will be gone soon in the name of security.

Addendum: The struggles in Xinjiang are quite real and felt constantly. A week after I left the area a checkpoint outside Kashgar was attacked and sixteen police officers were killed. Most in the minority group are so fearful of retribution and wiretapping that they are too weary to say a word against the government to foreigners at least.

And of course, the large oil reserves in the province complicate matters…