Old and new meet at border town in China

Editor's note: Ann Ostendorf of Cape Girardeau is spending a year traveling the globe from England to Asia. This is another part in the series of articles she has written about her journey.

After a day on the bus with no food stops and several breakdowns, I had finally made it over the Khunjerab Pass out of Pakistan and into China.

Customs was closed at this hour, so we were put up in a hotel. It was my stomach that drove me out into the dark streets of the border town called Tachkurgan. The neon lights and strings of flags implying some grand opening beckoned me to a building not far away. On nearing the place, music and sounds of revelry spilled into the street. I entered hesitantly and was greeted by a scene I never could have imagined.

A man stood singing loudly into a microphone accompanied by a one-man-band on a Casio keyboard.

The center of the room was full of men dancing with flailing arms, drinks in one hand and cigarettes in the other, underneath a disco ball, shouting, laughing and singing. The periphery of the room was lined with circular tables brimming over with food and drink.

Around the tables sat the most spectacularly clothed women and children feasting on the food and atmosphere. It was these women who made an impression on me I'll never forget. Each had on a fancy head scarf tied at the nape of their neck. Their faces were painted like stage performers and their clothes sparkled more than showgirls'. From head to toe, these women shined. There wasn't one thing about them which wasn't flashy. Every item of clothing was covered in either glitter or sequins. Each woman's outfit involved at least four different colors -- gold and silver were favorites -- and three different patterns. Velvet, silk, taffeta and lame were fabrics of choice.

This place was unlike anything I had seen in Pakistan. It was like some futuristic gypsy camp. Was this really China? The people looked no more Chinese than I, and the place didn't have a hint of the communist drabness I expected. I soon learned that while I was in China, I was not yet among the Chinese. These were Uighurs.

2,000 years of history

The Uighurs are one of 55 minority groups recognized by the Chinese government. The 8 million Uighurs in China live mainly in Xinjiang, China's westernmost and largest province. They are much more closely related to Central Asian than East Asian people. Their language is of Turkic origin, and their religion is Islam, but less orthodox than most.

The Uighurs have 2,000 years of history in the area, mostly centered around their historic capital, the oasis city of Kashgar. This city prospered on the ancient Silk Route due to its strategic place amidst the harsh deserts and mountains between China, India and the west. The name Kashgar evokes a certain exotic mystique among those interested in Central Asia. Even today the Kashgar Sunday market has no rival in all of Asia.

Walking around the maze of streets, it's easy to forget which century you are in. Winding dirt roads lined with mud-brick houses have stood here for ages. Craftsman do things the way they have for centuries. Blacksmiths are heard blocks away banging out horseshoes and other metal goods. Next door, a horse is rigged up for a shoe change. Musical instruments and hats are made by hand. Silver and coppersmiths sit on stools hammering away or engraving designs freehand into cups, bowls and kettles.

Bagel-like bread is still made in stone ovens along the street and can be purchased piping hot for about a nickel. These go great with some mutton kebabs made by a boy fanning a trough full of coals.

The best way to experience Kashgar is to sit on a bench outside one of the countless tea houses full of wrinkled old men and watch the world go by. The streets bustle. Vendors push carts piled with fruits and vegetables past boys driving donkey wagons full of people and foods. The sound of "Borsha! Borsha!" (coming through!) is heard over the din. The women who sparkle even more in the mid-day sun haggle over the price of a silk scarf.

Old men stooped under the heavy load on their backs try to find their way through a herd of goats going the opposite direction. Butchers work in the open air providing fresh meat for the nearby restaurants. The furs and hides are hauled away to another shop for sale.

Certain modern intrusions abruptly remind you that the past and present here in Kashgar are intertwined. A motorcycle roars past driven by a woman whose red velvet dress is hiked up showing the money she has hidden in the thigh of her stockings. A taxi honks its way down a street at 5 miles an hour, crowded with livestock and wagons. A man pulling two sheep along on ropes is shouting into a cell phone (possibly, "Buy the donkey! Sell the chickens!"). Sometimes, if you're not careful, you'll wander you way out of old Kashgar and find yourself on a wide, modern road lined with five-story buildings full of everything from video cameras to Tommy Hilfiger jackets, Internet cafe's and pizza joints. This is new Kashgar.

For now, this new modern world hasn't taken over the city and is limited to a few major roads. The Uighurs seem some how able to adapt to parts of this new modern world without losing their traditional culture.

One big construction zone

But for how long? Kashgar is the farthest Chinese city from Beijing, and the progress which has transformed the rest of the country is only in its infancy there. Most cities have already been pushed completely out of old China and are soon to be pulled into new China, if they haven't been already. The whole of the country seems to be one big construction zone.

Everywhere you look roads and buildings are being built or repaired. Every city has at least one major street dug up with the newly demolished neighborhoods of old China lying in piles of rubble nearby. They are making way for the high-rise offices and apartment complexes of the future. The English language newspaper is constantly reporting on roads, railways, tunnels or dams being completed or proposed. Traveling along a rural gravel road past terraced rice paddies and old wooden farm houses, huge bridges are seen being built above so the new six lane superhighway can bypass the curves and hills. Half of the country must be employed in construction for most of the work is done by hand, from digging out the hillsides to mixing the concrete. It is like a Chinese version of the New Deal work programs of the 1930s.

This recent birth of the new China seems only to have reached certain people. Of course progress and modernization can't affect all people simultaneously.

It's a gradual process and this new group of people with money is spawning an obvious materialism among both the haves and have-nots. For now it seems the majority of the people are still have-nots, but it's the hope of the country that this is soon to change. With the entry into the World Trade Organization and the upcoming Olympics, and all of the publicity surrounding these events, many Chinese are being urged to do something they've already been asked several times in recent history. This is to accept the present state of the country in its growth process and set their sights on a future that is sure to be better for all. But China is not a homogenous group of people, and this first-world future seems to be more quickly approaching for some than others.

Next: Modern China begins to creep into the old way of life.