Ode to the razor blade

I had a hilarious email exchange with my dear friend Professor Jenkins the other day about "things not to forget when packing for field work".  It's a little more important for him, since he heads off to the Artic where forgetting something means death or at the very least going without for as long as you're there.  There's no "I'm just going to run to the store three freaking thousand miles away for a bar of Speedstick" happening up there.  I always forget something.  It's probably because I tend to make a pile on my living room floor for about a day before I leave and then pack it all the morning of.  That said, I'm quite well prepared - pocket knife, headlamp, sewing kit, basic medicines, first aid kit, sunscreen, bug spray, etc etc etc etc.  But this year I forgot to bring a razor.  And the boys here are shy about "women things" - apparently a razor is in that category.  Weeks ago, I mentioned needing to get a razor to one of the guys, and he got very very embarrassed and said "you don't need to shave.  "Uh, dude, you're Chinese.  I've got hairier legs that you do."  So I went without.  No offense to my French friends out there - love you guys, but I was starting to feel a bit like one of you.  So needless to say, I'm quite thrilled right now. We are back in Urumqi, and the first thing I did with my new found freedom and independence was going out and buy myself a razor. After 5 weeks of feeling like the newly planted clear cut hills of western Washington, my legs are once again seeing the light of day.  Hallelujah.  

  Note added in proof:  In reading about the history of the razor blade, I just learned that the modern disposable blade safety razor was invented in the US in 1901 by King Camp Gillette and William Nickerson.  I guess it's obvious why the second guy's name didn't stick in marketing.

  I'm sitting her writing this listening to the wedding processions out my window.  Xinjiang University is right in the heart of the Ughyur neighborhood, and it's Saturday evening - lots of wedding parties.  Weddings here seem like such cool affairs.  After the ceremony and dinner, the whole gang piles into their cars and heads down the road behind a cart with musicians playing traditional horns and drums, and stringed instruments.  It's hecka cool.  But I hear that Urumqi isn't even the most culturally interesting city in Xinjiang, so I am on a quest to travel south to Kashgar.  Since our work ended early, and I've got almost two weeks before I fly back to Boston, I thought I might try to spend next weekend doing something fun and exciting that I'll never get another chance to do.  Kashgar is supposed to be a far more international city than Urumqi with the largest international bazaar in all of Asia that touts the wares of folks from all over central Asia who still come to China as a big trading center.  So my Ughyur friend, Yakupjan, and I are potentially going to hop on a train or airplane south to Kashgar sometime mid week.   The train versus plane decision will be based on whether I want to spend about $300 on two roundtrip plane tickets (since I'll cover his travel as well) versus $60 and about 24 hours on the train.  I'm thinking of forking out the cash. This is probably the only place in the world where I can truly experience the Middle Eastern/Central Asian cultures without fear for my own personal safety.  And with the added benefit of local companionship.  It is really nice to experience these cultures through the guardianship of someone *of* the culture.  I visited the Minority Folk Museum and Xinjiang University when I first arrived in Urumqi, and learning about culture like that at a museum or with a tour guide not of the community feels a little condescendingly voyeuristic.