The magical streets of Kashgar on market day are a kaleidoscope of colours in perpetual motion. Thousands of people crowd into narrow ancient streets, each bearing a bundle and many accompanied by a bleating sheep or ambling bull.

Collectively, this crowd raises a cloud of dust that engulfs visitors who are already overwhelmed by this exotic throng. In every direction we can see snippets of people’s lives played out simultaneously. We stand dazzled; struck still by the sheer numbers who press in on us from each side.

Through various travels we had become somewhat unwitting connoisseurs of bazaars and markets. Never before, or since, have we encountered a living entity like the Kashgar market, which is undoubtedly one of the most fascinating bazaars across the world.

Located in far eastern China close to the border of Pakistan, Kashgar has always been an important trading oasis – each Sunday the population swells by 50,000!

Travel is so often about destinations, but the Kashgar market is about the people – a melting pot of Pakistani traders, nomadic Kazakhs, and ethnic Uyghurs who come together in a cataclysmic weekly meeting. It is fantastic and unfathomable, much like the stuffed intestines that are offered by red scarved, plump Uyghur women.

The market is serious business for locals – trading is going on whichever way you turn! People visit the Kashgar market perhaps twice a year to sell their goods – they sell their garden produce by laying it out on a cloth; while a baggy capped man sells garlic cloves slung around his neck.  Goods sold, they then stock up from those trading in old shoes, springs, fabric or bolts…

The dominant faces in the crowd are Uyghurs, descended from the Turks.  Dark skinned, with charming smiles of bright white teeth, their age-old culture is far more closely aligned with their Muslim cousins in Central Asia than their Han Chinese rulers from Beijing.

In sequined glittering dresses and heavy brown headscarves, with babies balanced on their hips, Uyghur women bargain and wheedle for goods. Men tuck into noodles, and shashlik (kebabs) roasts as young boys fan open coals, while others rest, sipping tea at makeshift stalls.

Cows, bulls, sheep, and horses are cajoled by their owners through the crowds of people. Some are held by a thin piece of string, others enticed by a few carrot tops. Roosters, ducks, dogs, cats and pigs are carried in a number of contrivances, but all seem oblivious to the action in this frantic, dusty place.

We find ourselves caught, with bulls on one side, sheep to another, tractors parked haphazardly in the middle of the market. Seeing our dilemma a Uyghur man with a sun-lined face and wearing the traditional four corned hat extends a hand and leads us to safety through the tightly packed animals.

Sheep are tied to stakes, and then clipped carefully with scissors as potential buyers look on, meanwhile a horse is given a trial ride scattering crowded onlookers. The air is serious and intense as negotiations begin, strong words are exchanged, and deals are made with a handshake.

The air is full of honking horns and ringing bells, belching tractors chug, and trucks full of sheep and cattle ease by inch by inch, urchins hanging from the back. Locals can negotiate the streets, but as the hot dusty day wears on we find ourselves knocked by donkey carts and people carrying large loads.

Copyright Ariana Svenson, 2005 - Comments and enquiries, please email us.