I’m in Hotan, China for the first time. It’s a humongous city. To put it into perspective, it’s about the size of 108 New York Cities. My first stop is the Sunday market, located in central Hotan. It’s a busy market, crawling with tourists and locals alike, all looking for something to buy. It’s an amazing assortment of people, market stalls, and products. Everything is sold there, from skullcaps at the doppi bazaar, colorful hand-woven silk, and a fragrant assortment of spices at the Juma Lu. In fact, Juma Lu was my first stop at the market. It was a colorful section of the market, around twenty medicinal stalls crammed among the thirty-something spice stalls. The crowd spanned the whole area, forcing me to be shoulder to shoulder with everyone in the sea of people, being jostled every which way. All I could smell were spices, such as anise and cloves, and a bit of body odor, probably from all the people in the crowd. The market as a whole was bustling, everyone rushing to buy what they came to buy. It was almost like Time Square; so many people, so many signs, everyone trying to get you to buy what they’re selling.

After the market, I went to Jíyà, a small town hosting a hidden gem; their very own silk workshop. The workshop specializes in Atlas silk, a special type of silk only used for women’s clothing. For centuries, the secret of making silk was a closely guarded secret, no one knew but those who made it. But now there are multiple workshops you can visit that openly display the silk making process. I go inside, and immediately smell the scent of fresh grass clippings, most likely coming from the mulberry leaves that the silkworms eat. It’s a huge building, ten rooms full of just silkworms, one for weaving the fabric, and another five rooms for dying the silk. It was amazing, even though watching the silkworms was quite a bit like watching water boil; not the most entertaining thing ever. They didn’t move much, and about half of them were inside a pearly cocoon of silk. After passing through the multitudes of silkworms, I entered a room filled with people weaving the silk thread on looms so huge that they towered over almost everyone in the room. They wove the threads so carefully, so painstakingly, making sure no threads snapped and that the fabric was perfect. I was told that one twisted thread could mess up the whole piece of cloth, forcing the worker to start over and waste the silk. And the cost comes out of their paycheck. After I that, I move onto the dying rooms, all filled with bubbling vats of dyes in every color imaginable, from ocean blue to cherry red. I’ve never seen so many colors in one place. It was awe-inspiring to see all of them. I almost couldn’t believe it.

I ended my day at the Melikawat ruins, just outside of the city. It’s one of the most interesting sites out of the hundreds of abandoned cities scattered in the desert around Hotan. It thrived during the Tang dynasty as a Buddhist center, plus it may have been the capital of the ancient kingdom of Khotan. Towering walls of crumbling sandstone surrounded the ruins, giving the whole place an ominous feel. I walked in, feeling the loss of the sun as the walls cast a shadow over me and my tour group. The ground was littered with tiny shards of colorful glass and pottery. All remnants of any buildings were so damaged they were almost unrecognizable, as were the roads. Well, all the buildings except one. In the very center of the ruins lay a Buddhist monastery, still standing after all these years. While we couldn’t go inside, we could get up close to the outside. The walls were rough, pieces falling off and almost seeming to disintegrate, turning into dust. It was easy to tell how ancient it was just by touching it. When we left, my hair and clothes were encrusted in dust and sand from the ruins.

Everywhere I visited in Hotan was rich with history and culture, giving me an inside look at Chinese culture, both ancient and modern. I can’t wait to explore more tomorrow.

~Alaina