The Famous Xinjiang Muslim Market
Every Friday (or sometimes Sunday) in cities all over Xinjiang, small blocks in the middle of the city are transformed into a maze of stalls, carts, and mobile kitchens. For the entire afternoon the buzz of marketplace activity breathes life into what during the rest of the week is usually an empty lot. You can visit a Muslim Market as far away as Shanghai and the most famous can be found in cities such as Kashgar or Hotan (Khotan), but in fact any Xinjiang city that boasts a community of Uyghurs, which should be all of them, will most likely hold their own Muslim Market.
It’s not hard to spot a Muslim Market. Just look for the pillar of smoke rising from within the city signaling all the kebab grills being put to good use. Unless some building happens to catch fire on a Friday afternoon, this is the fastest way to find one. Of course there’s also the wall of vendor noise and sizzling pots that also indicates the presence of a lively market.
Where I live the Friday Market happens to be located in a small square next door to the city’s largest mosque. It’s the same square that holds all the sheep being sold during the very important Corban Festival. When empty the square looks quite small, yet during Friday market it seems as though the area stretches to hold the numerous vendors that come to sell goods and food. I don’t normally eat lunch out here. My stomach has taken a beating on more than one occasion from the meat that has been hanging out in the sun all day long. Instead, my goal on this hot day is to get my hands on a nice cup of Uyghur ice cream.
This particular market happens to be divided into three parts: vendors selling hot food, vendors selling goods, and finally vendors selling fresh produce. I entered the market on the side of the hot food vendors and was greeted by lines of makeshift tents, the aroma of roasted lamb, and skinned animal carcases hanging on either side. A simple glance to my left revealed sheep and goats heads which had been slow roasted and were starring me in the face.
After holding my breath during the entire stretch of outdoor restaurants I was relieved to finally breathe semi-fresh air once I reached the clothing and trinkets vendors. In the past I have bought knives, beautiful fabric, and some clothes here but today I was just trying to pass through. I was stopped, however, by the funny sounds of a man emphatically selling his wares off the hood of his car. Forget Chinese herbal medicine, this guy was hawking some crazy junk and people were buying it. Skin remedies, snake venom, and vials full of who-knows-what could reputedly cure most anything. Satisfaction guaranteed.
I wasn’t really into that, though, and thankfully I could see my holy grail, Uyghur ice cream, at the end of this aisle. Alongside stands selling various natural juice I found one lady with a big pile of fresh ice cream waiting for me to buy. Ice cream in hand I was able to quickly navigate my way out of the market and back to regular civilization.
The craziness that is a Xinjiang Muslim Market is a wonderful thing to experience, but my complete exhaustion and cultural overload after this short trip makes me happy it only occurs one day out of the week.
Josh
Urumqi
kahraman
Fred
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