Yarkand and India

The Silk Road city of Yarkand was our first stop out of Kashgar on the “Southern Silk Road” around the southern rim of the Taklamakan Desert. We did not stay long in Yarkand, a surprisingly colorful medium-sized Uyghur town, but did note some items that I thought might be worth a post.

Yarkand is not a major city now, but was historically important as the entry point into China from the Indian subcontinent, via the Karakoram Pass (not to be confused with the highway of the same name) located to the south of Yarkand. The city was in ancient and medieval times filled with Hindu traders and moneychangers.

More recent poor relations between China and India mean that there is no longer a border crossing at the Karakoram Pass, but I was surprised to see nevertheless in my short time in Yarkand what I believe to be residue of this ancient link, in the form of Indian influences not visible in Kashgar just a few hours away.

In both roasted lamb and dumplings in Yarkand a great deal of turmeric is used, giving a result like that of Indian curry.

One of the most famous sites of Yarkand, a 16th century mausoleum for a local princess, seemingly to me built in an Indian style.

Could this Yarkand man’s ancestors be Indian?

Historical continuity in Yarkand is visible in other areas as well. Yarkand, along with some other of the Southern Silk Road towns, was noted from long ago, including by Marco Polo, for gout. We saw on our visit people suffering from this disorder caused by the local water supply, which the Chinese government is trying to remedy with educational programs. Despite much economic and scientific progress, some physical/geographical realities remain from hundreds or even thousands of years ago.

Wandering around the old royal cemetery of Yarkand, we ran into a group of elderly men and women praying. (I’m not sure why these people were praying at royal tombs, but it is a relatively common sight in Islamic countries. Perhaps because in Islamic states rulers are portrayed as particularly pious and holy men?) What struck me was that the vocalization of the prayer–drone chant interrupted by occasional raised inflections/tones–was exactly the same as Buddhist prayer. Islam only arrived in the region in the 15th century; could it be possible that the rhythmic/melodic style of Buddhist worship persisted? After all, I have read that the repeated prostration that Muslims perform during their prayers is actually an ancient Christian form of worship still practiced in some Syrian churches.

While pondering this, I suddenly remembered that my Catholic grandmother prayed the same way–could it be that she was also praying, that most Christian Asians pray, in the way that her/their Buddhist ancestors did? The more things change…