No Time to Lose: Somewhere near Mongolia, Xinjiang

Classes were supposed to end on July 6, I think. But I was hanging on by my fingernails and well aware that a few more days of classes would do nothing for me except push me closer to the brink, so I waited till I fulfilled the one responsibility I couldn't shrug off (finishing teaching my uni classes) and then rushed in a taxi directly from class to catch a bus up to Northern Xinjiang.

Two days later, as if the end-of-semester frenzy had never existed, my main concern became having too much salty milk tea poured down my throat as we wandered through the mountains that border Outer Mongolia.

My companions were Li Zhuangxuan (my classmate from last post), his friend Meirambek (local Kazakh musician who is now living in Beijing), and Meirambek's childhood friend Janibek. I had stumbled off a sleeper bus around 3:30am on Friday morning, and we got on two motorbikes and sped off into the mountains that afternoon.

We slept under the stars, went hiking, listened to Meirambek play the dombra (traditional two-stringed Kazakh instrument).


One day, we climbed to the top of the highest peak around, and discovered an interesting reminder that these mountains were once populated by Mongolians, not Kazakhs. In the middle of a large field littered with horse bones, was a huge pile of horse skulls.

"This wasn't done by Kazakhs. We don't do this. Must have been done by Mongolians at least a hundred years ago." Both of my local friends agreed no Kazakh would possibly do this.

Later, David's Mongolian friend Meendai explained that Mongolians build these as a way to establish a kind of communication with the heavens. They are considered sacred places and cannot be sullied.

On our way back down the mountain, we ran into a family moving to their summer pasture. In these mountains, most of the Kazakhs still lead a traditional, nomadic life, moving about three times a year. Some families move by tractor, but many still use this more traditional means of transportation.



The wooden frame being carried by the camel in the back is the changiraq, the opening at the top of a yurt used for ventilation and climate control. In the Kazakh language, it is often used a larger metaphor for the home and family.

We spent a few happy days and cold nights in the mountains before heading back to town so that Li Zhuangxuan could prepare to return to Korea. At that time I was also planning to head back to Urumqi pretty quickly.