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Short and Simple

How stories from ordinary people hold extraordin­ary social value

- By FRIEDA LI, Reporter, Beijing Review

During a two-week trip to my native Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region in northwest China, I contemplat­ed the following question: Born and raised in the region until the age of 18, how can I tell the stories that unfold here to people on the outside? The stories of ordinary locals are very simple, to the point that many people feel they hold no real “news value.”

But for those who have lived through Xinjiang’s difficult times, the present is hard-won.

One topic that never received much attention in internatio­nal media is how the region suffered terrorist activities, and how that tension influenced daily life.

From my childhood to early adulthood, under the influence of ethnic secessioni­st forces and violent religious extremism, communicat­ion between ethnic groups was discourage­d in parts of the region. Uygur children were, in certain cases, not allowed to make friends with Han Chinese children—the Han being China’s largest ethnic group.

What is even more frightenin­g is that from 1990 to late 2016, violent terrorist incidents took place in Xinjiang, according to a 2019 government white paper. The victims were not only Han people, but also Uygurs who were brutally killed because they refused to be controlled by extremist forces.

China Global Television Network once released a four-part documentar­y on the subject, and the bloody scenes in it were chilling.

There has not been a single terrorist incident in Xinjiang for more than seven years now. Every time I go back to my hometown, I see how things have changed. The barriers of fear between people are on the wane. Residents are beginning to believe that they are entitled to pursue what they love and believe in, and that no one and no force can stop them.

After graduating from university in Beijing, I became a reporter for Beijing Review. Over the 10-plus years that have followed, I have returned to my hometown on many occasions to record local stories.

During those trips, I have encountere­d numerous individual­s, some of whom can be deemed successful.

But during this most recent trip to south Xinjiang, I focused my attention on those who might be considered the most “ordinary” of people.

A stranger passing through their lives, I feel incredibly privileged that they opened up to me, generously sharing their stories, dreams and aspiration­s.

Their authentici­ty and willingnes­s to connect have profoundly impacted me.

Without further ado, here are a handful of their touching, personal accounts.

Arman, a man with an unexpected profession

Arman Turhong, born in 2001, is currently the youngest male caregiver at a nursing home in the city of Tumxuk that claims to be one of the best facilities in south Xinjiang and has a total investment of 75 million yuan ($11.5 million). Arman is, in his coworkers’ words, “a little curious,” because there is a stereotype that Uygur men are often reluctant to work in the service industry, preferring to become soldiers, police officers or businessme­n - aka profession­s perceived as with more masculine connotatio­ns.

Arman graduated from Changsha Social Work College

Residents are beginning to believe that they are entitled to pursue what they love and believe in, and that no one and no force can stop them.

far exceeded her expectatio­ns. Marmar is planning to use the extra money to help more stray animals outside the campus.

The 20-year-old Kazak student was born in the city of Altay in north Xinjiang. She studies at the College of Xinjiang Uygur Medicine in Hotan. In addition to her studies, she serves as the leader of the school’s volunteer service team. She said that in addition to volunteeri­ng to help doctors to provide medical services in villages, she is very willing to help others to solve problems in daily life and also wants to contribute to protecting animals.

During school breaks, Marmar typically takes road trips with her parents. She has travelled all over Xinjiang and the place she now most wants to visit is Xizang Autonomous Region in southwest China because she wants to see the unique customs of Tibetans, another ethnic minority in China.

After completing her associate’s degree, an academic programme taken at the undergradu­ate level - the first stage after secondary school, Marmar plans to pursue a bachelor’s degree and eventually complete a master’s degree in medicine. What she hopes to do is to continue volunteeri­ng and help more people and animals in need.

Bilili and Li

Bilili Eni, aged 16, and Li Bohua, aged 17, are members of the same high school soccer team in the city of Artux, a city considered to have the most ardent soccer fans in all of China. Bilili is a centre back, a central defence position, while Li is an attacking midfielder, whose primary role is to assist in the offense. Both are convinced that they outshine the other on the field.

The two good friends come from completely different background­s. Bilili’s father is a soccer coach, who has invested a lot of experience into training his son. Li plays soccer purely for fun. And Li happens to be the first Han player to be on the team since it was formed. Both teenagers consider soccer a passion that truly resonates with them, but neither aspires to become a profession­al player. While Bilili hopes to become a gym teacher, Li has yet to make a firm decision—but certainly prioritise­s attending university.

Nurziba, navigating her way to university

Seventeen-year-old Nurziba Yilam is about to graduate after two years studying unmanned aerial vehicle operation and maintenanc­e at a

polytechni­c college in Kizilsu Kirgiz Autonomous Prefecture. What she is learning to operate are not the small drones commonly used for aerial photograph­y and performanc­es, but those used for seeding and pesticide spraying, weighing approximat­ely 50 kg.

The unmanned aerial vehicle programme is one of the newest majors at the college, with over 70 students enrolled across two classes, including 11 women. Nurziba chose this major after watching a female Uygur influencer on Douyin (the Chinese version of TikTok), who frequently shared short videos of herself operating agricultur­al drones. The two-year programme leads to promising job prospects, with many graduates from the college securing monthly salaries exceeding $1,000.

Her teachers consider Nurziba a diligent student, one who even outperform­s the majority of her male classmates in skill.

She plans to go to Hangzhou, capital of the eastern province of Zhejiang, whether it be for further educationa­l or profession­al purposes, given she sees it as a beautiful city with tremendous potential. “If possible, I would like to settle down there. However, my education is insufficie­nt to secure ideal profession­s, so I must find a way to attend university,” she said.

Nurbiye, a rose by any other name...

Nurbiye Abdubako, a flower shop owner in a small town of Kunyu City, was busy doing the makeup of two young women set to attend a wedding. This flower shop seems a little different from the ones in Beijing; it resembles more of a wedding planning company, offering comprehens­ive services for Uygur-style weddings, including wedding dress rentals, bridal makeup, and wedding car decoration­s. The shop turned a profit of roughly 70,000 yuan ($10,000) in 2023, according to Nurbiye.

A single rose is priced at a little over 7 yuan ($1) at the shop, which is double the price in Beijing. Nurbiye explained that due to climate and limited demand, the Xinjiang area does not feature flower nurseries for ornamental flowers. Therefore, all the flowers are air-freighted from Yunnan Province and other places, resulting in high costs. She added that plastic artificial flowers were used in weddings here in the past, but now, more and more newlyweds prefer using fresh flowers to decorate their weddings, even if that means spending much more.

Nurbiye, 35, has two boys, with the elder one in seventh grade and the younger in second grade. Her primary focus right now is to make every effort to afford her sons’ education. She also plans to take her 68-year-old mother to visit other provinces, as the latter has never left Xinjiang.

Xu, X-raying the region

Xu Han, a 42-year-old general surgeon from Beijing currently works in the People’s Hospital of Kunyu City under a programme to leverage resources from more developed regions to assist Xinjiang’s developmen­t. He said the most challengin­g aspect of his role is the responsibi­lity of being an “all-round doctor.” He is responsibl­e for handling a wide range of emergency

cases, including paediatric­s, ophthalmol­ogy, orthopaedi­cs and unexpected situations.

On his first day of work in Kunyu last May, an unexpected incident caught Xu off guard. A female patient arrived suffering seizures. Although an experience­d doctor, Xu is not an expert in this particular field. Fortunatel­y, after a thorough diagnosis, it was determined that the patient was experienci­ng temporary shock due to emotional stress.

Prior to the establishm­ent of the hospital in Kunyu where Xu works, local residents had to travel long distances to Hotan for medical treatment, often resulting in delayed diagnoses. The presence of the hospital in the city has brought much-needed convenienc­e. However, the facility, which was newly establishe­d in 2019, lacks highly skilled doctors. As a result, experience­d doctors from Shihezi, a city in north Xinjiang, and Beijing have become the backbone of the hospital, including Xu.

Over the past six months, Xu has travelled to nearly every village in Kunyu as a volunteer, offering medical services to local communitie­s. His demanding workload has prevented him from exploring other cities in Xinjiang. When asked if he plans to travel around Xinjiang, a popular tourist destinatio­n in China, he said he would like to do so after his assistance mission ends in May this year. But his greatest longing is to return home and be reunited with his family. The separation has been challengin­g as he misses them dearly.

Epilogue

I once visited the old night market in Hotan late every night for three consecutiv­e nights. Even at 1 a.m., the place was still crowded with tourists. There was a Uygur woman selling fried stinky tofu, a Han Chinese snack. Other stall owners called her “Guli,” a typical name for Uygur women. Guli is never shy to share her love story.

She and her Han husband met through social media in 2021. A few months later, the man came to Hotan from Sichuan. It was love at first sight and the couple soon got married. In 2023, they welcomed their first child. Guli’s in-laws also came over to Xinjiang to help them care for their newborn and taught her the techniques of making Han Chinese snacks.

Guli is very happy with her current life because she feels deeply loved.

Many people ask her what kind of work her husband does, and she is happy to call him over from another stall not far away, where he sells freshly squeezed pomegranat­e juice, a traditiona­l drink in Hotan.

Guli’s customers in turn often go to his stall to buy some drinks.

Many tourists have been moved by this story of inter-ethnic love, but as a native of Xinjiang, I know that their happiness is a result of the significan­t efforts and achievemen­ts made in terms of social and economic developmen­t.

 ?? ?? Arman Turhong (right)
Arman Turhong (right)
 ?? ?? Nurbiye Abdubako
Nurbiye Abdubako
 ?? ?? Nurziba Yilam
Nurziba Yilam
 ?? ?? Xu Han
Xu Han

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