Kashgar's Cattle Market . . . and one great souvenir.

Our final stop in China was Kashgar. Just the name itself seems to conjure up some small town outpost in the middle of the desert. To further re enforce this, the best place to go in Kashgar isn't the local shopping mall, cinemaplex or hottest bistro, it is cattle market on a weekend. Locals descend on the market from far away and one can see them walking on the side of the highway with their lifestock in tow.

It's an amazing place. You see people unloading life stock, showing them off to potential buyers who in turn check out the merchandise but prodding them, looking at their teeth, etc. As I was taking photos, this guy walks up to me and asks if I want to buy a knife. He pulls out this old worn, blade with goat horn handles and an old leather sheath. I've always grown up around knifes, ever since my dad gave me a Swiss army knife even before I knew my left from my right. As a matter of fact, that knife taught me my left from my right when I cut myself rather deeply on my right thumb. "Wow, that's a nasty cut on your right thumb" my mum said as she was patching me up. . . . "right thumb" I'd repeat over and over again.

By I regress, so when this guy pulls out the knife it was too good to be true.

It's old and used which means it's an actual working man's knife, not one of those flashy cheap souvenir knives they sell at the market. I hold it , notice the blade, sharp but worn due to excessive sharpening. How many sheep has this thing killed, which hilltop did it come from, how many years of service did it give its previous owner? It was too good to pass up and so I bought it and I probably paid too much for it. Right after our transaction is done, the knife salesman pulls out another one, this one shiny and new, the blade shiny in the sun, the sheath not leather but some sort of colored vinyl. I pass on that one.