Free Footloose Scot by Jim Glendinning Page A

towards Russia or southwest towards Pakistan.
    The new city was an unfortunate mix of box-like new buildings (department stores, hotels and government offices) put up by the Chinese along broad, tree-lined avenues. An enormous statue of Mao stood in the middle of a public park, pointing south towards Pakistan - perhaps a statement about the Karakoram highway we had just arrived on. It had been designed and built with Chinese money and labor, with many fatalities during construction. In the old city, a mud-brick labyrinth of alleys of artisans' shops and small houses one sees the remains of an Islamic city. One also sees street life along these lanes as shoppers haggle with vendors, and hears periodic prayer calls from the two mosques. The larger one, the yellow-tiled Id Kah Mosque, dates back to 1442 and can house 20,000 worshippers. But for how much longer will the old city survive as the Chinese modernization juggernaut encroaches?
    Kashgar is in the Xinjiang Uyghur autonomous region of the People's Republic of China which occupies one sixth of China's land mass. Like Tibet, Xinjiang was being colonized with Han Chinese. It is mainly desert, the biggest being The Taklamakan Desert which measures 600 by 250 miles. The name means in Uyghur the No Return desert. Peter Fleming, brother of the more famous Ian Fleming who created James Bond, wrote a book about this area in 1936 called
News from Tartary.
    He describes a 3,500 mile journey from Peking to India with a Swiss woman journalist, including crossing the Taklamakan desert. With classic understatement typical of many British travel writers, he makes light of the extreme discomfort and some life-threatening incidents. Finally he arrives in Kashi and introduces himself at the British Consulate. This area of Central Asia was the site of what was called The Great Game, a clash of wits and diplomatic maneuvers between Britain, protecting its empire in India, and Imperial Russia, always looking to expand southwards.
    With my travelling companions from the bus, I too checked in at the former British Consulate, which was now a cheap hotel. Although the area has only recently been opened to westerners, already there were cafes with signs in English and some hotels where someone spoke English. I wandered around the remains of the old clay-walled city, and went to an evening concert by a Chinese orchestra in the new town.
    A man was selling home-made ice cream on a street corner, helped by his son. By miming, I suggested he let me help him make the ice cream. This amused him, so I turned the ice cream churn for half an hour, ate some free samples, and he took my photo. Two westerners passing by were also amused, and they bought ice cream cones.
    My main interest in going to Kashi was the Sunday bazaar, known throughout central Asia. Actually there are several markets, but I chose the largest just outside of town. I joined a huge crowd of pedestrians being overtaken by riders on horseback or motorbike, calling "boish, boish" (Coming through!). This sprawling make-shift outdoor market was packed with local people from the surrounding countryside. Faces and clothing revealed different nationalities, Uyghurs, Tajiks, Kyrgiz and Uzbeks besides the Han Chinese, reflecting Kashgar's location at the crossroads of Central Asia. Just about anything which might fetch a price was on sale: food, implements, animals, rugs, clothing, kitchen utensils, old bicycles and boom boxes. There were mounds of spices lying on the ground and meat hanging from hooks. The mood was cheerful and the bargaining intense. No one paid any attention to me. Very little had changed here in hundreds of years, I thought.
    Elsewhere stalls were selling footwear and hats. I bought two Russian astrakhan winter hats with ear flaps. Bolts of colorful textiles were displayed next to used bike tires, and nearby were skins of exotic mountain animals. In the only space which was clear of people, horses and camels were being walked