Originally published by Daily Times,07 February 2011

By Razi Azmi

For my trip to Tashkorgan (3,600 metres above sea level), I took a shared taxi with a group of Western backpackers. Tashkorgan is a Chinese border town on the Karakoram Highway, 120 kilometres from Sost in Pakistan across the Khunjerab Pass. The town stands astride the meeting point of five countries, namely, , and Kyrgystan, besides China and Pakistan, although the only border crossing from here is to Pakistan.

From Kashgar, it is a 6-7 hour drive to Tashkorgan, 230 kilometres away. A couple of hours after leaving Kashgar, which is on a flat, dusty plain, the road enters fantastic mountain scenery with snow-clad peaks on either side, including the Kongur Mountain (7,719 metres). The Karakul Lake is a sight to behold, with clear blue waters reflecting the white snowy peaks surrounding it on three sides.

The road passes through Tajik territory with Tajik and Kyrgyz stalls vending various kinds of precious stones. One passes rows of large trucks coming from the opposite direction, carrying large boulders needed for construction work in the rest of China.

Afghanistan’s narrow Wakhan strip is only a few kilometres from here, giving Afghanistan a 76 kilometre-long border with China. Readers might find it interesting to know that a mere 25-30 kms of the Wakhan strip separates Pakistan from Tajikistan (and the former USSR).

As on all roads in mountainous areas, the river is never far. On this stretch the road does not cross high mountain passes, rather meanders leisurely through the mountains helped by the river cutting its way through. On this road, as well as on the road to Nepal in Tibet, all traffic in both directions must pass through a police checkpost about a hundred kilometres from the international border. Here everyone, whether a Chinese or a foreign national, must disembark and produce their travel or identity documents. This, of course, is in addition to the main immigration control at the international borders which, in this case, is at Tashkorgan.

Tashkorgan is a neat little town, unlike the small Tibetan towns on the road to Nepal, which are rather untidy and full of stray dogs which freely crouch under restaurant tables scrounging for food. Tibetans believe that the sick, stray dogs that hang around monasteries are the reincarnations of bad monks. But even bad monks must be respected and fed, so they are allowed to loiter, no matter their sickly looks and festering wounds.

The next leg of my trip was by train from Urumchi to Shanghai, at the other extremity, on the east coast of China. Urumchi railway station is massive, clean and very well organised. Big electronic boards outside the station announce the waiting room numbers for particular trains. After passing through security checks, we took our seats in the lounge which was blocked off from the entrance to the platform by little gates.

There was no activity until about 20 minutes before the departure time, much like boarding time at airports. Seeing the large crowd assembled in the lounge and no movement whatsoever, I wondered how on earth we were going to catch the train. But just at the right time, with military precision, a few uniformed railway staff (mostly women) emerged out of nowhere. They opened the little gates one by one, allowing a steady and smooth flow of passengers from the waiting lounge to the train.

No coolies or porters and no jostling – everyone quietly proceeded to their pre-assigned compartment and berth. The process is eased by the attendants who are assigned to every compartment and who stand at attention on the platform next to the door whenever the train stops at any station. It is all too disciplined and well-organised. And not much fun, compared to the veritable bazaars that Indian and Pakistani trains and stations are – colourful, disorderly, bustling and noisy!

The platforms in China look deserted except for two or three hawkers’ stalls and the passengers eager to provision themselves for the rest of the journey. Fresh hot food and packed food are also sold in the train by uniformed salespersons quietly pushing their trolleys through the aisles. What a contrast with Indian or Pakistani trains, where the hawkers advertise in high pitch melodious voices their wares, which are precariously balanced in baskets on their heads or dangle painfully from their arms.

Giving me company on this long train journey from Urumchi to Shanghai were three Muslim Uighurs, two of whom offered all their prayers, even discussing amongst themselves which were obligatory during travel and which were not. All three ate nothing but their bone-dry naan after their supply of roasted meat had run out, shunning the food sold on the train as it was not halal.

During the 48-hour journey, the train stopped at no more than ten stations and never for more than 3-4 minutes. The water in the washrooms and toilets never ran out although no device to refill the tanks at the stations was evident. Either the tanks were very large or water was being recycled! Hoping it was the former rather than the latter, I chose not to ask.

The mostly-female attendants regularly patrolled the compartments to ensure discipline and cleanliness. Given their stern looks and police-type uniforms, breaches were few and far between. The attendants richly deserved their salaries, constantly watching, sweeping the floors, collecting trash in plastic bags and leaving them in neat rows on the platform whenever the train stopped, to be disposed of later by the station staff.

At the massive Shanghai railway station, which was packed with passengers arriving from and travelling to all corners of China, I counted but two uniformed porters with wheeled luggage carriers. Everyone else carried or pushed his own luggage. If the quality and compactness of the luggage which travellers carry reflect the standard of living in a country, China surely has made much progress.

The huge, underground taxi stand at the Shanghai railway station also cannot fail to impress. It resembles the taxi ranks at large western airports, where taxis and intending passengers line up in queues and are served systematically. Except that, at Shanghai railway station, it is underground.

The writer can be contacted at [email protected]

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