Dinner in the oasis of Turfan

Last evening dinner was in a private Uighur home - friends of our Uighur guide. We were welcomed by the family patriarch standing under a mulberry tree. We had been coached on the correct way to greet this Elderly Moslem gentleman. The home is surrounded by vineyards - and the air was filled with birdsong and the cooing of doves. The weather was balmy and we ate outside on a raised platform covered with rugs. The table was low and we sat cross legged. We removed our shoes and had our hands washed three times. We watched our hostess make noodles and dined on those along with shish kebabs and pilaff. No wine - the grapes harvested are air dried and may have been taken as sustenance by travelers on the SR. After dinner Osvaldo thanked our hosts by singing an Argentinian song the guide fashioned a rose from a napkin and presented it to him on one knee. An evening we shall not forget. Ttfn
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