May 12 was the last day in Kashgar, and when I heard someone in the group say that roses in the countryside of Kashgar had bloomed, I hurried to find the roses.
In Xinjiang, I have seen lavender, sunflowers, pear blossoms, apricot blossoms, apple blossoms, and I also want to collect roses
The road to find roses is very tortuous, we just know that the township is called Wasteland Township, and we don't know where the specific positioning is. Xinjiang is so big, the next township is like a province, we can only get off at the neighborhood committee of the wasteland township first, and then start to inquire around where the roses bloom.
The first stop was to find a convenience store, thinking that the residents here should know the place, but they never expected that the big mother in the countryside could not understand Chinese. We did everything we could, and it was a comparison and a picture, and the aunts still didn't understand it very well. Then I found the first guiding immortal. There was a sister riding an electric car, and when she saw us pointing fingers, she was kind enough to stop. I heard that we were going to find the roses, and the road was still quite far, so I got into the car, fluttered and rushed forward, and the companions behind me sneaked behind me and chased after me. Just like that, I got into the first car and got closer to Rose Village.
I met my kind motorcycle sister by chance
At this time we walked on a concrete path, lined with tall trees, and behind the trees were neat red-roofed bungalows.
A motorcycle that pulls the wind
Red, yellow and green, Xinjiang people are really masters of color matching
After dropping me off at the intersection, we got into a second car, the big brother was a small worker who shuttled through the country lanes to transport decoration materials, and I said I was your co-pilot today, and he smiled thickly. As long as you are not embarrassed, it is others who are embarrassed. He took us to his house and dropped us off.
The guys and the locals are really mixed
At this time, the roads on both sides have become fields, and on both sides are still tall trees, behind the trees are thousands of acres of rose fields, and the third eldest brother has appeared, he is a passionate barang, enthusiastic to introduce us to his hometown. Wasteland Township is built along the Tuman River, presenting a narrow strip of two kilometers from north to south and five kilometers from east to west, although 90% of it is the Gobi, but in the past two years, industrial poverty alleviation, through the development of green vegetables, badan wood, walnuts, roses and other agricultural products to build beautiful villages, the eldest brother talked to us about the video of the policy interview, full of pride and pride.
A day as a co-pilot
He said that it was not the right time for us to come, and in another 10 days, this field was full of red and green Damascus roses, and then he met an old friend who worked in the field and stopped the car to say hello. We also waved warmly to the old man, who came out of the sea of roses, and secretly picked a rose behind his back, and then put it in my ear, although we did not have the same language, but at the moment several of us became good friends in laughter. We held up our phones and took pictures like crazy.
As the car got closer to the countryside, the sides turned into fields
The country friends of the kind big brother, just because they saw the laboring Adasi, so the big brother stopped the car to say hello
The fafa from an old friend gave me
Because we did not see a large field of roses, the eldest brother took us to a community, these houses, yellow walls and red tiles, neatly arranged on both sides of the road, each family has a large yard, the vine trellises have been green and thick, there are large flower ponds at the door, planted with roses, and large red roses are decorated with green leaves, and the pure yellow wall is contrasted.
It is what our ideal home looks like.
Uniform streets and small flower beds
Three times of hitchhiking, we went to the rose village, did not see the most enthusiastic Damascus, but felt the simplicity of the rural Uighur folk customs. It was a precious memory of my journey.
After 10 days, the roses should also bloom.