The days of living with Uighur compatriots are what I see as Xinjiang
In early July 2018, I escaped the city wearing a $20 T-shirt and buying a 56-hour hard-seat train ticket. From Jinan to Kashgar, from the eastern to westernmost tip of China, endless cement forests gradually fall at the end of the track, snow-capped Mountains gobi, desert sunsets, coming at you, with a strange and exhilarating atmosphere...
I'm finally here!
And at this moment, in the early hours of the morning, no one spoke with them, slowly writing these words. Only then did I understand that for people like me, there was never any loneliness, all emptiness and loneliness, but because I was tired. So those distant places slowly spread out in front of their eyes again, those fragmented earth lines, the endless gray Gobi, suddenly jumped with a bright red, as if the hem of their skirts flew when they rotated, and like the fiery flames burning in their eyes.
I confess that I am nostalgic.
This time a year ago, I stepped off home for the first time and onto a college campus. When I found the dormitory door number with my name on it, I was surprised that there was a long name similar to that of a foreigner next to it, and it slept opposite me... I was curious about what kind of roommate I would meet.
Finally, here she came. High nose bridge, deep facial features, dark eyes, carrying the kind of bread that can only be seen on TV. Tell us that she took the train for three whole days!
Until then, my knowledge of Xinjiang was limited to the mysterious western region, the smell of melons and fruits, and violence and fear.
She called her family and we couldn't understand a word, and during military training, she danced a Xinjiang dance to amaze the audience...
A year later, my impression of Xinjiang has also changed from mysterious and dangerous to more mysterious but yearning. Before the summer vacation, she said, come home with me, I said yes, bought a train ticket to Xinjiang.
Before and during this trip, many people encountered expressed great incomprehension of my behavior. I said that I was a girl who ran to such a chaotic place in Xinjiang alone and stayed in the Uyghur gathering place. Some people say that my parents have a big heart, and there was a big brother on the train who was worried that I would be sold into a ravine to be a daughter-in-law, and I told him that I wouldn't, they have so many beautiful women, they can't look at me. There was also an uncle who told me to get out of the car and hurry to buy a wolf prevention tool...
I thank everyone for their concern for me, and I have also seriously considered what they said about the problem, whether it will be really so terrible, and what to do if there is any emergency. But I feel that I live to enjoy life by doing what I want to do, not to be safe for a lifetime. So, what about insecurity? If I didn't try anything for absolute safety, I would lose 80% of the fun in my life.
As it turns out, the above is purely pretentious. During these days with my Uyghur compatriots, I felt a 120,000-stronger enthusiasm than before, their etiquette, language, attitude towards life... All impressed me. I often lie on the pile of stones at the back of the yard and look at the sky full of stars and think, if I had been born here from the beginning...
I also often recall the peace and quiet of the city under the brilliant night sky of the city, and write this article to talk about masturbation.
The train from Urumqi to Kashgar is definitely the most memorable train I have ever taken in my life.
As soon as I got on the train, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, there was a large gobi outside the window, there was no signal, and the singing and dancing in the carriage made me wonder if I was on a real train. A group of people next to them were playing guitar and singing, and each break would attract endless applause and cheers, like a small concert. Opposite a bearded uncle in the voice of the voice and emotion, surrounded by a circle of little girls screen expectations, I want to know what they are saying, but the most maddening thing is that what they say, I can't understand a word!
Have you ever experienced that kind of despair? The people around me were sometimes suddenly silent, sometimes laughing, and I had no idea what was happening... Still, I was inexplicably happy, biting my nails like a grade ivory exam listening force while staring at their mouths open and close, figuring out what he might mean according to the tone, and then pretending to nod in agreement. Someone laughed hard, and I quickly showed a smile from the heart, no way, who made me feel good
I was in this embarrassment for the next ten days. At first I was thinking about learning something, but then I had to bow my head in front of the huge system of Uyghur languages. What I admire most is that, first, I don't know if it is a difference in physiological structure, many sounds I can't make at all, and they can naturally slip from one sound that can't be made to another sound that can't be made. So far, I have only learned: hello, thank you, goodbye. Second, they can talk without a little pause, Brabra has a long string, and the lung capacity is so good that it explodes... And every time I just want to learn their tone and say four words: I ~ listen ~ do not ~ understand ~
In short, I was like a baby who had come to a new world, stripped of the ability to speak. But because of this, whenever I recall my intersection with my Uighur compatriots, all that comes to mind is a pair of pure eyes and a simple smile. They pulled open their shirts and pulled out a piece of wrapped candy and handed it to me with a smile, and told me to be careful of the sickle hurting my hand, and the children looked at me with long eyelashes with a little curiosity and shyness...
I woke up from sleep on that train, and looked out the window for hours, and time seemed to slow down at once. The train raced for two days, chasing from sunrise to sunset, and only the endless Gobi and a road stretched lonely to the sky. Sometimes I open my eyes and see that the sun is shining outside, but the time displayed on the phone is more than 11 o'clock. Sometimes the desert is dark and transparent, but there is no sleep, allowing the soul to blend into this vast expanse unscrupulously, and slowly unfold in the part of the heart that has been curled up for a long time...
How big is Xinjiang? To tell a joke, Gu Li had already told her family that she was about to arrive home when she arrived at Urumqi Station, but there was still a whole day before she arrived home... Xinjiang people say it's coming — another day, right away — at least three or four hours.
I didn't expect that here, someone actually spoke Chinese to me! I looked back, a little brother of the conductor in a white shirt (but here he seems to be Han Chinese except for me)
"Are you Han Chinese?"
Me: "Mm-hmm, yeah" (Ma yay!) Finally there's a sentence I can understand))
"Then may I ask you a question?"
Me: "Yes."
"Winter melon, or watermelon, which one hurts more when it falls on your head?"
Ha? What a problem this is. I thought for a moment and said, "Winter melon? ”
He burst out laughing, "Haha, wrong! It was my heart that hurt more. ”
I......
I was unconscious in the middle of the night, and he came to wake me up and asked me where I got out of the car... My consciousness did not know where it was floating, and I opened my mouth and said "Urumqi".
He: "Huh?! (The lying car was driven from Urumqi to Kashgar)
Feeling his obvious shock, I instantly woke up a few minutes, and after carefully recalling, I seemed to have passed through Urumqi. After that, I confirmed with him several times that I was really going to Kashgar, just a slip of the tongue, not abducted and sold...
Get off the train at 7 o'clock and stand on the streets of Kashgar, empty! Gully said it would be more than 4 a.m. ... All right. We were carrying suitcases and looking for a taxi in the cold wind at 4 a.m. She was far ahead, I didn't notice when a taxi came next to me, the driver rolled down the window, Brabra said a lot of me, I could only keep a big smile while hurrying to call Gu li over. After getting on the bus, they had a very pleasant conversation, during which the driver turned around and called me "girl ~ mother ~", and then they got out of the car and added WeChat to each other, and the general content of Gu Li relayed was like this:
Driver: "Why did your friend ignore me for her?" ”
Gu Li: "She can't understand, she's Han Chinese"
Driver: "Ah ~ Han girl, come here to play?" ”
Gully: "That's right"
Driver: "That's a guest from afar, we're very good here, add me WeChat, where you go to play at any time to find me, I pull you to go." ”
There was also a small friend who carpooled with us. In the distance, I saw a few brightly dressed people standing in front of the bungalow on the side of the road, and when the car stopped, an old woman stepped forward, and it turned out to be the girl's mother.
They embraced affectionately, and the old man held the girl's head in both hands and rubbed it on his cheeks from side to side. The first time I saw this etiquette, I thought it was over, who knew that she let go of her daughter and walked to the front of the car, when I was sitting behind the co-pilot. She reached out two dark hands from the gap in her back, and I held them hurriedly.
"txihumu" (hello)
It was the first Uyghur I had learned in Kashgar, the first pair of hands I had shook, and a pure stranger, who we didn't even know her daughter, just took a ride. Unfortunately, I didn't know the meaning of that sentence, and I didn't know how to respond to her, but I just remembered the warm and rough hands and the wrinkled smile on her face.
The language barrier, the smoothest communication with me is the same can not speak children. Xinjiang's children are so cute! A pair of big talking eyes, long enough to make me suffocate eyelashes, flash at you, the heart will melt ~ ~ ~
Once when I was a guest at someone's house, they were talking, and I couldn't understand it, so I sat there alone. Suddenly, a small child ran next to me, caught off guard and "snorted" in my face, and then ran back to hide behind his mother, shyly showing one eye and smiling at me.
The first time I met a third-grade boy, Nur Aili, he was too shy to talk to me, and I was quiet and quiet like a lady. After that, we taught him to write his language homework on the bed, and then later, we completely let go of ourselves. Together we dug the bunker, along with his sister Nefsai and his brother Nurmamat. None of them were wearing shoes, so I didn't wear them either. The soft ground was super comfortable to step on, and they took me barefoot everywhere to climb trees, pick fruits, stand on trees and beat sheep with fruits...
I have always liked the temperament of Uyghur boys, natural, sunny, without too many traces of carving, wheat-colored skin, healthy forearms... In the shadow of the high nose bridge and high brow bone, a pair of light and deep eyes look at you friendly. The blue sky in Urumqi froze my first picture of Xinjiang.
Unfortunately, I can't understand what they say...
One day I was hanging out with Gully's friends and I was put in the back seat of a boy's motorcycle to experience the same feeling of flying! Straight poplar trees flew by, and I saw his carbon-black neck and strong shoulders... Suddenly remembered, this is the first time that a boy has taken me on a motorcycle! Momentarily a little excited, I couldn't help but sneak a glance at him from the rearview mirror, expressionless, frowning and looking straight ahead... I deliberately opened my arms, wow, hair was blown all up, cool! Yet he still... Not bird me. But I always want to talk to him, I shouted, can you speak Chinese? The sound was quickly carried away by the wind, and I was worried that he hadn't heard it. After a few seconds, he slowly turned his head and said something to me, I didn't understand anyway... From then on, they could only be seen from a distance in my eyes.
Gu li told me again and again: Be reserved. But as soon as I was happy, I let go of myself
That day I went to someone else's house with Gu Li to eat, and as I walked, there was a dusty place in front of me with music. I said, what is this for?
Gully: "The one who moved the bricks"
I! Can you move a brick so hi? Look closely, in a simple small brick house, a few boys are dancing disco behind a pile of bricks, with a stereo next to them, jumping and throwing a few turns to the side. Wow, the first time I saw such an interesting brick move, standing next to me for a while, they also found me, I walked over, they stopped dancing when they were cheering, and suddenly pushed each other with great shyness. It turned out that they thought I was going to dance with them, and I explained for half a day that I couldn't dance and wanted to learn from them. When Gully found me again, I was dancing disco with a group of boys shaking their heads... Later, I washed my hands next to me, and a boy came up to me and handed me a purple wildflower and called me "sister".
Disco forgot, but the flower remained for a long time.
Xinjiang dance is magical, because it is not only a dance, but also an attitude to life. In Xinjiang, children who can walk can dance, they can dance by moving bricks, and the traditional Uyghur wedding lasts for three days, basically not seeing the groom and the bride, it is a group of people dancing day and night... Men, women and children, as soon as the music is played, it is another person. In the village where I was, there was a dance every Monday, and the whole village came running, dancing on the stage, dancing offstage, and a few old men squatting in the corner smoking and admiring. There is no such thing as disturbing stress here, I am happy, my world is the center.
Forgive me for not getting much, receiving the greatest kindness, except for my relatives, all from strangers, and the most beautiful soulS I have ever seen, all exist in those who are superficially ordinary or even unremarkable. At one point I was ashamed that I saw strangers as strangers, and they didn't seem to have the concept.
Tell me a few little things about my own experiences.
One day Guli and I went to eat lamb kebabs, and after we were ready, we sat at the only small table and waited. There was an uncle and an old woman sitting opposite, and soon their lamb skewers came up first, and the uncle took two skewers from the plate and handed them directly to me and Gu Li, so that we could eat them together. We took the lamb kebab after pushing it off again and again, and later our lamb skewers also came up to share with them, but the uncle insisted on not, saying that it was just a lamb kebab.
Afterwards, I felt to Gu Li that the people of Xinjiang are really enthusiastic. But she didn't think it was a big deal, she said it was a common thing for them, and no strangers could eat at the same table. And I grew up so big, it was like the first time I had encountered this kind of thing.
Sometimes when my parents call me and I don't receive it, they worry about whether something has happened to me, and many people's yearning for Xinjiang stops at some violent incidents in the news. But what I feel here is great kindness. We were taught from an early age: don't talk to strangers, no pie will fall from the sky, no one will be good to you for no reason... And here, it is the stranger who will warmly shake your hand, hand you the lamb kebab he came up first, and say to you in your language, "You, my daughter, the same, the same"...
The first thing Gu Li and I did when we came to her house was to go to the police station, what did we do when we went to the police station? check in. I also want to register, and the police uncle also specifically instructed Gu Li to ensure my personal safety... Then they made a note, and I stood in the doorway. During this time, a few people washed peaches next to me, and when they saw me, they told me to come and eat them.
To play in Xiangfei Park, I want ten yuan tickets, half price for students, but I did not bring a student ID. Gu Li told the doorman that I was a student who came here to play during the summer vacation, and then the eldest brother said to me in extremely blunt Chinese: Hello guests from afar, and then, free tickets.
There are also countless Uyghur compatriots who have been kind to me, and those who have asked for nothing and have not repaid me. I can't remember when I started to become cold, to calculate gains and losses, to doubt the simplest kindness, to keep a proper and unfamiliar distance... And the place we thought was "evil" reminded me to find the lost beauty.
Gu Li's sister likes to wear a red dress and is gentle and patient with her three children. She plucked a grass from behind the courtyard, called Ottoman, squeezed out the grass juice, and dipped it with a cotton swab and applied it to the eyebrows of each child, which was said to darken the eyebrows.
Gu Li's brother usually does not smile very seriously, but once he sees his little daughter Nadile, he instantly becomes a funny boy... The little yellow hat with her daughter was triumphant. Every night we played chicken in the yard, relying on the general mobile phone, the language barrier, and actually ate chicken...
Interior decoration. When sleeping, lay a blanket on the ground and usually fold it up and put it in the corner.
No matter who I see here, I must shake hands first, and I have shook more hands in Kashgar than in my lifetime. Good relationships should also be hugged and pasted, and important guests should bring out a beautiful pot and basin to water and wash their hands. With Gu Li, I went to countless relatives, and every time I arrived, I would present a rich meal, and Xinjiang things were so delicious... I couldn't bear it and was full, and I had to eat it until the next one...
Let's talk about Xinjiang's cuisine.
First of all, it's my favorite: cool skin
Eating a bowl almost every day in Kashgar, a bowl is only three yuan! And it's delicious, fresh and spicy, with peanut crumbs and soy beans. Every time I instigate Gu Li to do a good relationship with the boss to learn what to do...
The best lamb kebabs I've ever had, not one of them. Lamb with bones, a bunch of 15, can basically eat enough. Wrapped in a layer of egg starch and something like that, it is baked in a roasted stove, the skin is very crisp, but the meat is still tender, with the unique fresh flavor of roast lamb.
Bazaar, a paradise of all kinds of food.
ice cream
Pomegranate juice, melon fruit needless to say
A very characteristic cold drink, the method is very primitive, a large piece of ice is chiseled, added honey yogurt, unexpected taste.
One day when I was making lamb buns at home, I sat on a small bench and tasted them intently, not paying attention to what they were saying. Suddenly, I felt something was wrong, how suddenly it was so quiet, I looked up, and there was still a half-pulled bun in my mouth... Found out that everyone was watching me!
What happened? What did I do?! Before I could swallow the bun, I saw a very old woman standing in front of me, grinning and revealing a mouthful of gold teeth, the wrinkles on her black face bloomed into a flower, and she reached out her hand to smile at me, and I hurriedly threw down the bun and got up to hold her hand. Funny old lady...
Gully took me to mow the sheep, in the cornfield under the setting sun, quiet like a poem. The first time I used a scythe, she cut it flat and quickly, while I cut it a little bit in half a day and it was uneven...
Cotton, corn, watermelon seedlings. Large temperature difference strong sunshine. This simple land feeds this group of simple people.
Finally still have to leave, parting to go to greet Gu Li's parents, they were very shocked, killed me a melon, said that I was not at ease to walk alone on such a long road, and finally learned that I had bought a ticket before agreeing, but I must invite me to a meal to leave, I somehow watched them push a tricycle, and then left a lot of wicker from the tree. I asked Gully what was she doing? She explained that they were going to send you, shoot you dirty, sweep the dirt in the car.
I was touched and didn't know what to say... Just my broken box...
The old man must take me to eat lamb kebabs, I said cold skin is enough, or he pulled into a lamb kebab restaurant. We still couldn't understand each other's languages, Gully sat in the middle as an interpreter, the old man said I wanted to come whenever I wanted, they welcomed me, and invited me to graduate and work here... Until I was sent to the car, smiled goodbye, hugged Gu li's mother, blurred vision, couldn't believe it, and just left...
If you really have feelings for a place, you can find a sense of belonging. For example, the Gobi on both sides of the train is the vastness that can give a northwesterner a sense of security, and everything there, so easily caught me...
The black smoke from the cars going downtown stirred up a puff of dust, blurred exotic buildings, as if they were another world away. Here is the frontier, the edge of Taklamakan... And my story.
This article is written by Zhihu users: Yuye original, is its summer vacation personal experience, welcome to pay attention to ~
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