You may not know this, but FarWestChina currently broadcasts daily news and information about Xinjiang using 3 unique platforms, each targeted to different methods of consumption:

1. FWC Website: updated 2-3 times per week with a library of useful Xinjiang information
2. FWC Twitter Feed: 2-3 times per day with links to the latest Xinjiang news for those who want to always be “in the know”
3. FWC Facebook Page: 1 time per day with questions and topics for discussion relating to Xinjiang and China as a whole for those who want to interact

Interested in joining the discussion, or at least watching it? Then ‘Like’ FarWestChina on Facebook!

A Uyghur man plays the Rawap by Stacey Irvin

Use the player below to listen to the rawap, the instrument pictured above:

A rawap is a “Uyghur long-necked lute without sympathetic strings”². It is a symbol of Uyghur music and culture and one of the most common souvenirs that you’ll find in all the markets in Xinjiang.

Thanks to Stacey Irvin for this wonderful picture. In her own words:

I came upon this musician after a morning visit to the Sunday Bazaar in Khotan (September 2004). He was playing his rawap with vigor while slowly meandering toward the market. He circled me while playing and allowed me to photograph him.

¹Music clip from “The Red Rose: Xinjiang Instrumental Music. Mukam Art Troupe of Xinjiang”
²Excerpt of insert from “The Silk Road: A Musical Caravan” by Smithsonian Folkways Recordings.

There’s not a government around today that wouldn’t mind an extra ¥10 billion RMB in the coffers. Not many of them are given permission to raise taxes like Xinjiang did, though!

I was asked a great question on the FWC Facebook page last week by Chris Brown, who genuinely wants to know: How much of this new revenue will actually stay in Xinjiang? I promised him I would contact a friend who works in the local Xinjiang government and surprisingly I got a great answer from him yesterday.

Here’s a bit of the back story:

Part 1: Raise Taxes by 4%

Ever since June 1, 2010 when Xinjiang levied a new sales tax on gas and oil – raising it from under 1% to now 5% – tax revenue has jumped up by a crazy 32.9%. That’s an increase of ¥10 billion RMB when compared to 2009, and it is projected that the increase will continue for another ¥10 billion in 2011!

Unless they own a car, the average Xinjiang resident doesn’t really notice this tax hike. On the other hand PetroChina, the country’s largest oil producer, has seen a big dip in their numbers.

Based on my experience, however, PetroChina has money to burn. In 2007 I watched as every single PetroChina employee in Karamay, a Xinjiang town built around oil production, was given a brand new refrigerator, water heater and treadmill as a quarterly bonus. With seemingly half the town being employed by PetroChina, the market was flooded with each of these items.

Part 2: Watch the Money Roll In

Despite the fact that this was a “pilot program” that China tested out in Xinjiang (we’re always the guinea pigs…remember Lop Nur?), it was fairly obvious that a tax hike would produce significant revenue increases.

To coincide with all this extra money, the government also proudly announced that they had increased social spending by 26.8% last year. This includes city improvements, renovations, insurance and health care among many other programs. Government social spending in Xinjiang still doesn’t stack up to that of most other provinces in China, but it is improving.

Part 3: Where Does the Money Go?

The question still remains, however: does this extra revenue actually stay in Xinjiang? According to one government official, the answer is both yes and no.

“The tax is divided” he says.  “40% goes to the central government while 60% remains with the local government. Even some of that 40% can still be returned to the province through different government programs.”

He also made specific mention about PetroChina losing money, which interests me considering the balance of power in oil cities like Karamay or Dushanzi. I’ve been told multiple times that the president of the oil company has more power than the governor, so it’s no wonder a tax change like this had to come from Beijing (or maybe that’s the only place it can come from?).

Conclusion

It seems clear that everybody is pretty happy with this new tax, so I would expect that it will shortly be introduced in other major energy-producing provinces like Heilongjiang and Gansu. This was just the tip of the iceberg – also on the horizon are taxes on coal and some metals.

Personally, I think they should just add a 10 yuan tax on cigarettes…judging by how many chain smokers I know in China, that ought to raise the revenue by at least another 10 billion!

Note: The following is the second part of a guest post by Vivian Ngo. If you haven’t already, it is recommended that you first read Part 1: Introduction to the Karakoram Highway before continuing.

The geological sights along the Karakoram Highway were varied and contrasting: Rugged mountainscapes, sand marshes, crystal clear lakes, glaciers, green marsh lands. Although I’m not an expert on geology, it certainly piqued my interest to research more about what I saw along my journey.

After downloading all the photos I took along the way, I retraced my journey in Google Earth to help me appreciate and understand the geography I saw at eye level.

RED MOUNTAIN

On the way to the first check point on the KKH, we passed by the Red Mountain. The distinctive red tint of the mountain sandstone was from the oxidization of iron. The KKH runs in-between the ridges on the valley bed next to the Ghez River.

You could see many mines in this area with all the infrastructure to support a major mining operation. It has been said that during heavy rain the river turns red. There were a few spots where we had to detour around minor landslides on the road. At the first check point in Ghez they recorded our passports and reasons for passing. There was also road side refreshment stands run by Kyrgyz. That day was so amazingly clear we were able to snap pictures of the snowy Kongur Peak.

KUMTAGH

We stopped at the base of Kongur Peak to take in the views of this strange but beautiful landscape. It seemed like as far as we could see there were white sand dunes and a river bed that projected a mirror image of the horizon.

There was a Kyrgyz family there trying to sell us some polished stones as well, but we managed to convince them to take a photo with us instead. The white giant snow peak on the left of the photo is a part of Mount Kongur.

KARAKUL LAKE

This place makes you feel like you have just arrived in heaven. The lake at 3700m above sea level is surrounded by two Pamir peaks, 7546m Muztagh Ata to the south and 7718m Mt. Kongur to the north-east. We walked along the boardwalk along the lake and we could see all the way to the bottom of the lake because the water was so clear. We could also see the open green grassland in a distance where live stock fed. We were going to stay in the yurts around the lake, but we didn’t bring enough warm clothes. I heard it could get below freezing even in August!

TASHKORGAN

We arrived in Tashkorgan around sunset. It was really the best time to see the Stone Fortress bathed in golden sunshine. We first walked around in the wetland area, which is part of the Tashkorgan’s flood plain. What can’t be seen at eye-level but can be seen only on Google Maps is the geological form called an alluvial fan (highlighted in blue). It is created by melting glaciers flowing down from mountain peaks.

The Stone Fortress was high up on the hill that required a bit of a hike. We had to pay a small entrance fee to get access. It was well worth the hike and the fee because it was in a very surreal setting against the snowy peaks during sunset and hardly anyone else was there. About 1 km north of Tashkorgan is the check point post where we purchased a permit to drive up to the Khunjerab Pass.

There is also a sign that says something like “Khunjerab Pass is not a tourist spot, but an important military posts. We reserve the right to refuse permit to any travelers.” I was worried we would be refused, but we just had to show them our passports and paid about 50 RMB per person for the permit.

KHUNJERAB PASS

We arrived at the final point in our journey at the border of China and Pakistan after a long drive through breathtaking valleys, running rivers and clear skies. We noticed on the switchbacks leading up to the pass a torn up big rig that must have had better days. Just before we reached the pass, we obtained a military escort up the final few hundreds of meters to the border.

There was a three story gateway structure that couldn’t have been more than a few years old that was awaiting us at the top of the pass. The Chinese Military guard told us it took three rotating construction crews to complete the structure. The road pavement then abruptly ended with a marker signifying Pakistan on one side and China on the other.

A Pakistani guard representing the Kashmir Security Force rode up from his post to greet us on his motorcycle. His English was very good and he said his rotation keeps him in this location for about the length of a season. We managed to snap some pictures of some friendly foreign relations taking place from this most unique site. The mountain peaks seemed so close; almost at eye level. The 4700m altitude seemed to be getting the better of us after some time, so we decided to head down the mountain and get closer back to earth.

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This is Part 2 of a guest post was written by Vivian Ngo (click to read part 1). Vivian is an architect living in Los Angeles. Her trip to Xinjiang gave her a new perspective in what it means to be “Chinese”.

If you’re interested in contributing your own story or photo about your trip to Xinjiang, please contact me.

“Sometime in the future when others will ply the KKH, little will they realize the amount of sweat, courage, dedications, encourage and human sacrifice that has gone into the making of this road but as you drive along, tarry a little to say a short prayer for those silent brave men of the Pakistan Army, who gave their lives to realize a dream know as THE KARAKORUM HIGHWAY” – KKH Memorial Plaque.

In our trip to Xinjiang this past September, we took the opportunity to travel on the highest paved road in the world – The Karakorum Highway (KKH). Our drive took two full days. We started in Kashgar and ventured as far as the Khunjerab Pass, the world’s highest border crossing.

Traveling on the Karakorum Highway was one of the most breathtaking experiences I’ve ever had. Realizing how difficult it must have been to even build this road through such rugged and treacherous mountain region made me appreciate how lucky we were to see the magnificent scenery.

Why a Road?

Although the KKH was a great travel opportunity, it was built for more than just tourism. The KKH was a result of a partnership between Pakistan and China during the 1960’s to give both countries a back door for mutual aid. Coined as one of the biggest engineering projects since the building of the Great Pyramids, the KKH connects Kashgar with Rawalpindi and Islamabad, Pakistan’s capital, a total of 1300 km (about 800 miles).

It took 20 years and more than 35,000 Pakistani soldiers and Chinese laborers with nothing more than picks and shovels. The road gives strategic energy importance for China as well, giving opportunities in the future to secure oil from the Persian Gulf through the new Chinese built deep-water port of Gwadar, Pakistan and provide infrastructure to coal mines in the Kunlun Mountains.

Our Journey

We hired a private driver in Kashgar with the help of John’s Café. The 400 km drive to Khunjerab Pass drive took us two days: First day started at 4am from Kashgar all the way to Khunjerab Pass and back to Tashkurgan by sunset in time for sunset views of the Stone City. We then spent the night in Tashkurgan and visited Karakul Lake on our way back to Kashgar.

The driver had a rather weathered Citroën and had never made the drive all the way to Kkunjerab Pass before. There were times that we worried the car wouldn’t make it up the mountainous road to the eventual Chinese-Pakistani Border at an altitude of 4,693m (15,397 feet).

[Want to learn more about the KKH? Part 2 of this article - with much more details - will be published later this week...so stick around!]

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This is Part 1 of a guest post was written by Vivian Ngo. Vivian is an architect living in Los Angeles. Her trip to Xinjiang gave her a new perspective in what it means to be “Chinese”.

If you’re interested in contributing your own story or photo about your trip to Xinjiang, please contact me.