If the Cops Ask, You’re Not Staying Here

We realized that Kashgar was a very sensitive area, though that realization would become very real for us when, as we were leaving the city a few days later, there was an assassination and the city was almost completely shut down.

 

But on our arrival, we were still only moderately aware of how sensitive things were. When we lighted in downtown, I went through the usual battery of checking to see which hotels would not bar foreigners. Each time I went into a hotel, they said that it was not possible for them to take foreigners. I was not surprised by this, but this no-rooms-for-foreigners attitude was exasperating after a twenty-six hour long bus ride. All we wanted was a bed and a bathroom.

 

Finally, I found a hotel that would take us. Check in was easy, too easy. The young woman took my passport and scribbled a little of my information into a notebook. When I came back with Galen, she did not even bother to take his information.

 

When hotels authorized to accept foreigners register us, they have to record the details of our visa and passport carefully. With the way the woman at the front desk casually registered us, I knew that this hotel was not authorized to take foreigners. The young woman at the front desk either did not know or did not care that she was not supposed to accept foreigners.

 

The next day, I went to the front desk to pay for another night’s stay. Behind the desk, a middle aged woman with short hair had replaced the younger woman from the previous night. I handed the money for another night’s stay to the woman, about $20USD. “We’d like to stay another night.”

 

She took my money and began to fiddle with some paperwork, as though preparing cut me a receipt. Then, she turned to me and asked, “You’re not going to do anything that will get us checked out by the police, right?”

 

I was surprised by the question. I had never had anyone ask me that. “No.” I responded immediately, though I had no way of knowing what the police would do.

 

After this, we continued the transaction as normal. She cut me a receipt and handed my change back to me. I picked up the money and headed to the elevator, but, as I walked away, she called out to me. “If the police do ask you where you are staying, do not tell them you are staying here.”

 

I was pretty clear on what had happened. This hotel was not supposed to accept foreigners, but the young girl behind the desk when we checked in did not know that. The middle-aged woman was more of a manager, more responsible, and she did know that we were not allowed to stay there. Perhaps she might even be held responsible if we were discovered.

 

But whether she let us stay or kicked us out, the hotel had already violated the rules. So, why not just roll the dice, take the risk and make a little bit more money. The hotel was almost empty. As far as I could tell, no one was staying on our floor, the top floor. By staying there, we were making them money, so why not take on that little bit of extra risk?

 

Later on, the middle aged woman asked me if we had any American money. Normally, I just say no. “But, why don’t you have any American money?” they always ask, shocked.

 

“What good would it do me here in China?” I always respond, avoiding having to give them greenbacks.

 

But on this occasion, I thought it was best to break the pattern. I went up and asked Galen if he had any one-dollar bills and then took one down to her, where she was waiting in the lobby. She was elated, and she handed me the rough equivalent of a dollar in Chinese money, also showing off the Singapore Dollar and the Kazakh Tenge she had collected from guests. This dollar bill seemed to mollify her to the risks that we were bringing to her hotel. I was happy that she was happy and not worried that we were going to bring the cops down on them.

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