"To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. To not dare is to lose oneself." Kierkegaard

It occurs to me that the biggest part of how I experience this place is how I approach it, what I bring to it. It is a given that I do not speak Chinese or Uyghur. This will define the outer limits of what I can do, but it need not define the experience itself.

Another way to say it may be that if I can get past myself, and observe this alien world, I will get more from it. Aside from a physical threat, which I do not feel likely, any other anxiety is probably self imposed. No less real for that, but perhaps avoidable.

It is harder to be a voyeur when everyone else is staring back at me. As soon as I walk out the door of the hotel, those standing around turn and stare. I had to laugh a couple of times, as scooter/motorcycle riders turned to look back at me after passing me and almost wrecked.

I made a conscious decision to slow down a bit, at least while I am here.  This strangeness and the attention I get everywhere seems to exhaust me.  Good thing I don't have to worry about papparazi in ordinary life. Still, I won't travel all this way to hide in the hotel.

When I go into a store, a sales person either follows directly behind me the entire time, or stands directly in front of me and talks to me. In Chinese, no less.

I admire their curiosity, and I wish I could engage verbally better. Instead I smile (or grit my teeth, it looks pretty similar) and sometimes I take their picture.