I arrived in Tulufan a couple hours before the mini-buses to Turpan – my actual destination, but you can’t take a train there – started to run. But there were plenty of private “taxis” waiting, so I piled in with four other people and we started the hour-long drive before being dropped off in what seemed like a random part of town.

Most signs were in Arabic, Chinese and occasionally, English.

My hotel was next to the bus station, so I asked the driver where it was and pointed to the building right behind me. Oh. Then one of the passengers walked me over to the hotel and helped me wake the attendant and explained what I assume was that I just got here from the train station and wanted a place to stay. I got checked in and slept for a few hours before the sun came up.

Feeling a bit under the weather, I didn’t do much but walk around the bazaar across the street, napped, went to try to extend my visa (got denied), then hunted for some place to eat dinner. Along the way I was stopped by Osman, who was thrilled that I was American. He said he loves the American people, and that his body might be Chinese, but his head was American. Then he launched into a pitch-perfect rendition of the chorus to Dylan’s Mr. Tambourine Man.

I asked if he had been to America. He hadn’t, he said, because two years ago China took his passport and ID card. Then he lamented about the lack of freedom people in China have. Unfortunately his love for America was matched by his lack of suggestions for a good place to eat dinner. So I said goodbye with a firm handshake and walked around until I was harangued in by some waiters at a hotpot restaurant. In case you don’t know what hotpot is, it’s a meal that you cook at your table – usually there is some kind of boiling broth and you dip stuff in it – like meat, veggies, etc, and cook it, then dip into some kind of cooler sauce in a separate bowl before eating.

The place was empty, which concerned me a bit. But I was hungry enough to eat anything, so I gave it a go. I sat down and they brought the hotpot pan over which was divided like a yin and yang symbol with clear mild broth on one side, and dark spicy broth on the other. The clear broth, they explained, was for the noodles and the dark was for the rest of the ingredients. Then they led me over to a case with large selection of skewers with food on them. I chose beef and naan simply because they were the only things I could recognize that weren’t fish. As I was cooking and eating, the staff would come by to make sure I was doing it right and would offer suggestions. Needless to say, the food was fantastic.