FUTUR.E

4 ASTONISHING ETHNICITIES IN CHINAEXPERIENCE A SECOND NEW YEAR BETTER LIFESTYLE OF THE MOGOLSBATHING FESTIVAL WITH THE TIBETANSTWO DAY WEDDING IN UYGHUR

Table of Contents

Our Mission

Contributors

Previous Edition’s Letters

Equality and Quality

The Second New Year

Cleansing The Spirit

The Colorful Desert Life

1

2

3

4

5

7

13

19

23

Page 1

TABLE OF CONTENTSTITLE PAGE

Page 3

Catherine was born in New York and graduated from NYU with a degree in journalism. She is currently working for Furtur.e, and her work has been published in National Geographic Traveler, Afar, Travel and Leisure. In her spare time Catherine likes to pamper herself in reading and biking. She has two Golden Retrievers that are called Charlie and JJ - they are inseparable. She

Johanna is a German of 28, who was born in Germany and then grew up over-seas in multiple countries, China included. She graduated from an International school in Beijing. She finished college with a degree in law and journalism. Her hobbies include running, reading and listening to music. Johanna currently lives in Switzerland and works as a free-lancer for multiple newspapers and magazines She has written two books and worked for two other magazines.

Davy has had over 15 years of travel writing experience. He has won many awards including a first place award at Society of American Travel Writing (SATW) annual Lowell Thomas Travel Journalism Competition, two photography contests. He worked previously for National Geographic and earned high distinction during his time there. Davy lives in Carson City, Nevada but also visits China on a regular basis to visit his family. In his free time Davy enjoys arts and crafts including photography, as well as listening music. 

Will has traveled all around the world since he was a kid, particularly in China and the Americas. Thirty-five years of age and a US citizen, he now lives in Hawaii. A photographer by profession, he has over twenty years of experience shooting photos for travel magazines. He has contributed a rare written piece to Futur.e magazine. He likes to garden and enjoys nature walks. His wife, two kids, and two golden retrievers wait for him while he goes on assignments. 

CONTRIBUTOR’S PAGE

Catherine Johanna Davy William

Editor’s Edition

Hi All, 

I am Johanna Jakobi and I am the editor-in-chief of the ‘Futur.e’ Magazine. Here, we

strived to allow you to experience things that they never thought they would. We let

you feel the wind rushing through their hair, we let you feel the elephants rough skin,

or hear the chipmunks cry of happiness. Our mission statement as shown above,

explains how we try our very best everyday and dedicate ourselves to being able to

provide you down-right facts whilst at the same time give you the feeling of being

there and experiencing the view of the various fascinating views of this universe and

allowing you to envision the history here. I dearly hope the time spent on each and

every one of our editions is respected, and that you have the chance to learn new

things using our magazine.

Thank you,

Johanna Jakobi

Our Mission Statement

FUTUR.E Magazine's mission is to strive to

provide you with reliable information from one

part of the world to another, wherever that may

be. We harvest information from a plethora of

sources and condenses them into our densely

packed pages that is bursting with information to

enrich the mind of any reader.

Page 2

"Fantastic article on Mongolia." -Anonymous subscriber, USA

"Very interesting article on Hawaii." -anonymous subscriber, Russia

"Your article was very useful on my recent trip through Russia." -anonymous subscriber, China

"Great article on Vietnam." -New York Times

"An interesting look at Thai customs." -Washington Post

"Sure makes me want to tour New Orleans." -anonymous subscriber, USA

"Did not like your portrayal of Texans." -anonymous subscriber, USA

"Going to use your article on Brazil as a road map on my next trip." -Anonymous Subscriber, Mexico

"It made me feel what it is like to be there.”- Huffington post

"Very inspiring" -National Geographic

"Wish I were there." -UK subscriber commenting on article about Greece

"Very informative." -An Australian subscriber on our article about Fiji

"Wonderfully informative about Thailand." -anonymous subscriber, USA

Previous Edition’s Comments

INTRODUCTION TO

MINORITIES

“Grass plains, rolling over the Mongol minority's

crust for miles, spread out eagle-span wide. You

stand here, feeling the wind caressing your posture,

as you sway standing knee deep in a pool of grass.”

�rass plains, rolling over the Mongol minority's crust for miles, spread out eagle-

span wide. You stand here, feeling the wind caressing your posture, as you sway standing

knee deep in a pool of grass. If you were to look deeper into the heavenly scene, you will be

able to see some round white dots. These dots are their homes. Turn around; you might be

lucky to see a silhouette in the position of a crooked finger by its lonesome. It is a Mongol,

riding horseback. 

The atmosphere relaxed,

tension nonexistent. In a state of Zen,

you would wish to never have to go

back to the cities. Currently, I am

writing for ‘Future.e’. I could consider

five different places as my hometown,

but I am originally German, from a

village close to Frankfurt. I work as a

free-lancer. Beijing - China, is one of

the places that I could consider

home; I grew up here, spent my early

childhood in Beijing.

Whilst arranging the trip, I was

asked if I could ride horseback. Lucky

for me, I can. Sadly, I do not have the

talent and skill of speaking

Mongolian, so I was offered the

services of a translator who doubled

as a guide, which I gratefully

accepted. My guide travelled with me

by car, a jeep which was provided by

the agency taking care of this trip.

The Mongolian Minority can be

found towards the northern border of

China facing Mongolia. There are

approximately 5.8 to 6 million people

that are considered as ethnic

Mongols. Near 60% of these people

are situated here. 

Equality and Quality Mongolia

Page 7

We arrived at approximately 3

o’clock in the afternoon. The sun

shone down on our bare shoulders,

lighting up our skin. We both – my

guide and I - have long hair and

neither of us left our hair loose.

  Once you are in the car

headed on the road in the direction

north, you start to feel yourself loosen

up and become light as a feather.

Looking out the windows, such

scenery tugs at your heart and starts

to take over your brain. The times one

would spend here, would feel like a

rare key just unlocked your rusted

lock. You will find people referring to

them by their separate ethnic groups

from Mongolia such as Buryat, or the

Mongolian Minority in the north as

Inner Mongols. 

The Mongol Minority has a

unique way of living. To others It is

almost as if their life is separated

from civilization. Nevertheless, it is

quite simply a different type of

civilization. There are no buses and

streetlights, blaring horns and loud

music playing anywhere. Of course,

they have their own buses and

streetlights - horses and a pair of

eyes.

The host family is a family that

is only too keen to let us be a part of

their life for 24 hours. The children

especially, clearly love to show their

horsemanship, one can see their eyes

light up every time they come into

contact with the horses, or even

simply talking about riding. Their

daily experiences are only too

exhilarating; one can tell they are full

of energy.

If you were to find a Mongol

wearing their traditional clothes, one

could pinpoint their costumes as an

ethnicity from China. Their style of

clothing is quite similar between the

two sexes. Different sexes are treated

almost in the same way - equality is

standard. As I am in the more

pastoral areas of this ethnicity, they

have different types of clothes to

those that live on 1-location farms.

They wear fur coats which are usually

Page 8

lined for the winter, with either cloth

or satin. Whereas for the summer,

they wear cotton robes with are long-

sleeved. Their clothes are rather

loose at the leg, whilst loose around

the torso. Their clothes are generally

dyed to yellow, red of darker shades

of blue.

The life of a Mongol is unique;

they have a special way of living.

Mongols grow up around horses,

they become so attached to these

beautiful creatures, and it looks like

the perfect fairytale if one is lucky to

see a rider taking care or simply

talking of their horse. Accessories

would consist of a knife for cutting

meat, flint steels and sometimes a

snuffbox, for both sexes. Also, they

have waistbands that are generally

red or green. Their clothing style is

rather colorful, but lose and suitable

for their specific needs. Their

common footwear are felt boots,

which are knee high.

Mongols live in an area that

could be considered as ‘cut off of

civilization’ to some people. This

particular ethnic minority is situated

in the middle of grass plains that

stretch out for endless miles. When it

comes to food, they don’t have the

pleasure of hopping outside and

quickly going to a shop. They have to

get all their food themselves. They

use nature to supply themselves,

which is only too natural. Chocolates,

ice creams and other confectionaries

would be something they only have

the pleasure of trying when they are

brought any.

Their nutritional habits are

limited to a certain variety, due to

their geographical placement. It is

not as if they are so limited that they

are full-on vegetarians. Their

nutritional menu is mainly based on

dairy products, beef, and mutton. In

farming areas, Mongols like to eat

grains, whilst in pastoral regions not

so much. Tea is considered as very

important, indispensable basically.

For cooking, manure and cow dung is

commonly used as a cooking fuel.

The reason that they live in this

Page 9

lifestyle is because their geographical

placement doesn’t allow for anything

else. Also, they are constantly moving

around as mentioned. They can’t

build a permanent house of

concrete; they can’t make a farm to

allow for a regular income.

Mongolian’s are very patient

and tolerant,. Patience being a skill

they learnt to perfect whilst hunting

to be able to survive. Mongolian’s

would not take offense if a foreigner

is unfamiliar with their customs or

traditions.

Greetings are very specialized

in Mongolia. When greeting a

stranger, it is rather informal. One

would nod or smile to one another

and ask ‘Are you well?’ and it would

be abnormal to reply with anything

other than something based on a yes.

When an elderly person greets a

younger, the elder may take the

younger’s head in both hands and

smell their hair or face.

During celebrations, it is

custom to bring tea, food or vodka. It

should be giving and received with

the right hand. The left arm would be

supporting the right by the elbow.

Also, if you offer a knife to somebody,

always offer the handle, not the

blade. When you receive guests,

offering tea, candy or coffee would

be considered normal. Also, when

offering tea, it would be best to find a

cup with out any damaging on it.

Before being introduced to an

elder, receiving or giving something,

one should roll down their sleeves to

show respect. Once you advance to

begin a conversation, once would ask

about their wellbeing and the

family’s, then about their stock and

the condition of their pasture. Only

then would one start to talk about

other matters.

When being offered vodka or

another drink that one would

perhaps prefer not to drink, one

could instead tough the rim of the

bottle or cup to your lips. Or you may

dip your ring finger of your left hand

into the drink and flick it towards the

Page 10

four winds. This gesture you are

offering some to the gods.

Also, don’ t feel offended

when your friend does not introduce

you to their friend. Nevertheless, be

prepared to be asked who your

father is and where you come from.

Mongolians can be very

touchy, more so than other’s would

be used to. People often hold hands

or put an arm around one’s shoulder.

Also if you meet a new person it

would not be unusual that they touch

your shoulder or arms.

Overall, this trip has been

quite an experience that one should

definitely try to undertake. Their

living style is like this in this distinctive

way because they live away from the

modern city-life civilization, their life

style is effected by their placement

on the earth. It really is refreshing to

spend a few days away from honking

horns or being surrounded by

infrastructure.

In a way the visit was a relief, it

opens your eyes to how some people

are so lost in their jobs, so lost in their

lives that they can’t tell what a

beautiful thing life can be. Being with

the Mongols, living with people who

speak a different language, and living

in a while new world seems to have a

distinct effect on you. You realize

much more, your senses sharpen and

you watch people in more detail to

understand what they are doing. At

first I felt a little bit doubtful about

living in the yurts and living there. I

was worried that something would

go wrong or that I wouldn’t like it, but

now I don’t want to leave. It is 3 pm

once again, and we are being given a

very warn send-off. The hosts offered

to give us some food and drinks for

the trip back. They filled our tea-cans

with tea and milk.

Page 11

INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL BEIJING

At#ISB,#we#strive#to#educate#children#in#a#way#that#they#have#the#best#future#possible,#a#future#that#you#want#for#

you#children,#and#one#that#your#children#want#for#themselves.#Our#aim#is#for#your#children#have#the#best#

education#possible,#with#the#choice#of#almost#any#type#of#job#and#choice#of#studies#after#graduating#from#school.#

- Johanna

Library Dome

Pro-quality capture. Simply the US$499.99

“Entering the village was like

entering a whole new

world.”

THE SECOND NEW YEAR

It’s amazing what people do for their culture. China is so different from what

I am used to! Here in the US, no matter where you go, life is mostly the same. But in

China, the rural areas are a huge contrast to the urbanized cities.

My name is Davy Zeng and I

am a freelance travel writer. I have

recently been hired by Futur.e and

asked to go and visit one of China’s

minorities. I was allowed to choose

any minority, but I decided to

choose the Miao minority because I

had always been interested in why

they have a different New Year that

is separate from the normal

Chinese New Year.

The flight arrived in Beijing

at around 6 am and I took a fast

train to the Guizhou train station.

When I arrived at Guizhou I found

the Miao people were at the train

station waiting for me. I had told the

people of the village I was visiting

in advance. However, I had not told

them to come pick me up and I was

utterly surprised by their hospitality.

They took me with a small van to

their village and I arrived at the

village at 9 am sharp.

Entering the village was like

entering a whole new world. The

bright sunlight hurt my eyes, but as

my eyes adjusted to the light I

began noticing the details. There

was golden corn hanging out to dry

on the railings of the red, wooden

buildings. You could hear the soft

whispering sound they made in the

gentle breeze. The village was

surrounded by a natural barrier of

hills. In winter it keeps the cold

Page 13

wind from blasting through the

village. In summer, it keeps the

village cool by providing shade. All

around there was the laughter of

children, like a never-ending

chorus. There were children playing

tag, and others throwing around

beanbags. Everywhere I looked

there was laughter and happiness.

There were forests all around that

provided shade for the village.

Everywhere, people were wearing

their traditional clothing. The reds;

the pinks; the blues; the whites; the

yellows; all other colors of the

rainbow dazzled my eyes. Under

the horn shaped hats, there were

lengths of hair, all wound up into a

huge ball of yarn.

The village leader came out

of the biggest building. He greeted

me kindly and offered to take me

on a tour of the village. This was

where I got my first taste of what life

is like here. He showed me many

things about their lives. Plows that

looked like cow horns, the

grindstone where the golden corn

would be ground into cornmeal for

meals such as cakes, dumplings,

steamed buns and other staples. He

explained to me how it took two

generations to make the

grindstone. His father and

grandfather both chipped away at it

for five years, until it is what you see

here. A beautiful display of

craftsmanship.

He then asked me if I

wanted to go fishing in the nearby

river. I’m not a big fan of sitting and

waiting for long periods of time so I

tried to think of an excuse that

wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Just as I

was about to speak, he showed me

what we were going to use for

fishing. I soon realized that fishing

here is very different than using a

pole and bait. Fish is a staple in

their diet, due to of the many rivers

that crisscross this area of China.

Fishing with a pole is too slow to be

useful for putting food on the table.

Instead, people weave cone

shaped nets out of long grass and

branches. They then put it in the

water, so any fish that swims

downstream would get trapped in

the cone whilst the water is allowed

Page 14

past, almost like a filter. Because

each river is a different width, each

one had to be custom made, so you

need to be very experienced to

make it exactly the right diameter.

He offered to teach me the art of

weaving. In his skilled hands it

looked like child’s play but when I

actually tried it myself I ended up

with a huge mess of tangled grass.

He laughed with me at my failure

and told me that it brought back

memories of when he first started

learning to weave. After around

seven failures, I finally made one

that would be able withstand the

current and catch fish. We left the

nets in a nearby stream and moved

on to our next activity.

When we got back to the

village from deploying our fish

catchers, we were just in time to

witness a wedding. I immediately

noticed several things that are

different from traditional western

weddings.

The first thing is that this was

a very easygoing event. It seems as

if the bridesmaid is encouraged to

joke and poke fun at the bride and

groom. This is very different from

the very formal and serious tone of

a typical western wedding. I actually

prefer the lighter feel of the Miao

wedding because it allows you to

express more of your excitement.

After the ceremony the feast

began. The bride and groom

offered rice cakes to each other to

symbolize love. The rice cakes are

truly works of art with the pictures

of a dragon, a Phoenix, and a Feng

doll imprinted on them. Then they

cross their arms while drinking a

cup of special spirit called Jiaobei

spirit. According to the Miao

culture, this links the hearts of the

couple and they should never

separate.

There are some important

traditions to keep in mind if you

decide to visit the Miao minority.

The eldest member of the group

will present guests with the heart of

a chicken or duck. Proper

procedure is to eat part of the heart

but leave some to share with the

elder. They eat chickens and ducks

Page 15

because they don’t require much

care and they can live in a relatively

small area. The Miao people

depend on agriculture because

almost all land they have is arable

and suitable for crops, especially

corn and rice.

The last part of the trip will

be what sticks with me for the rest

of my life. There is a huge festival

after the feast because I arrived on

the day of the Miao New Year. I had

bundles of fun but also had a pretty

serious accident. The Miao New

Year festival began at around

4:00pm and the first important

event was the horse race. The

previous day a track had been laid

that ran from the village to the

nearby mountain.

The race would be 8

kilometers long, 4 there and 4 back.

The race started at the sound of a

cannon blast and the racers sped

off into the distance. From the

vantage point where I stood with

the village leader you could clearly

see the racers, now only tiny specks

in the grassland. I asked the village

leader why he wasn’t participating

in the race. His eyes had a faraway

look and he recounted how he had

injured his knee when his horse

went crazy and threw him off. He

lifted up his pant leg and showed

me the gruesome scar. The front

part of the knee was discolored

brown, with a black inner core. You

could see the ragged edge of

where there used to be normal skin.

It was disgusting at the same time

fascinating and for some reason I

couldn’t look away.

When I finally looked up, the

riders were returning. One rider

was clearly in the lead and the

others were spread in a wide

triangle behind him. A cheer rose

out from the audience as he

crossed the finish line. Both rider

and horse looked weary but proud

when everyone stood up and

started congratulating him. We

stood up from our vantage point

and headed down to meet him. The

rider introduced himself as named

Xiao Hui because of his gray hair

beginning at birth. He told us to

Page 16

watch him perform some stunts

later during the festival.

Xiao Hui told us to meet him

at 6:00pm sharp in the middle

clearing inside the village. When I

got there I saw that there were hot

coals all over the floor. Over the hot

coals lay cast iron slabs that were

glowing red-hot. Xiao Hui smiled at

us and suddenly ran over the red-

hot iron slabs barefoot. I was just

about to yell out when I realized he

was perfectly fine. He then

performed more crazy like climb on

sharp knives. It was a crazy and fun

experience.

My trip to China and visiting

the Miao minority was a great

experience. It’s always great to

experience a different culture and

take a break from the urban life one

is used to. I only got to stay for 24

hours, but I would be glad to stay

for 24 days. Even in the short a

period of time, I got to experience

parts of the rich and beautiful

culture of the Miao people. The

food they eat, the activities they

participate in, their daily life are all

determined by they fact they live in

a place with both mountains and

plains. A highlight of this would be

the interesting way they acquire the

fish they eat.I learned that the Miao

people are very hospitable and that

they enjoy having guests. I really

wanted to spend longer but I had

to go the next day at 8 am. From

the van they used to carry me to the

airport, I waved back at the leader

of the village. To my surprise, I think

I saw a trace of a tear in the corner

of his eye.

Page 17

�

“Following by the colorful prayer flags with Tibetan written on, I entered the garden of glory…"

Lips quivering, teeth chattering, I had never been as cold as I was standing, on the mountains of Tibet, shivering. I ought to admit, I have never seen anything like this before. The snow gleams white like the clouds in the sky, and even though I was freezing to death and getting altitude sickness, seeing the view from the world’s tallest mountain was definitely worth it. Here I was, in Tibet. A paradise with fresh air and passionate people, described god-like in stories.

Driving along with the smell of slimy fish and vomit that had not been taken care of, I had not lowered my expectation of Tibet. I squeezed myself into a window seat so I could see the hills outside. Mountains in every direction, were the color of hazel. However, it brings out the charm of the morning sky. Flocks of sheep occasionally crossed the highway slowly, making their way, from one side of the mountain to the other. At that point we would have to stop and wait until all sheep are over the road, could we continue our journey to Tibet. The bus wobbles on the highroad due to the tiny rocks that had fallen from the hills.

As I finally arrived with my exhausted body and drooping eyelids, my tour guide, Mike, greeted me enthusiastically in English, despite the heavy accent. He took out a long white scarf made of silk and wrapped it around my neck. It was a “Hada”, the best gift you could ever get from a Tibetan. It carries a warm

welcome and sincere tribute to the guest. Following the colorful prayer flags with Tibetan written on them, I entered the garden of glory. I was amazed by what I saw. I might never again see such a majestic view for the rest of my life. There was a spacious square full with white yet palatial, pillars on the side with fascinating patterns painted on. Each pattern was different with its own personality. Again, the prayer flags were visible, connecting all the pillars together. The prayer flags are a way of showing respect and honor to the Buddha, as mentioned by my tour guide.

We didn’t head to where my host family lived until the sun started setting. The evening red, mapping on the surface of lakes, visible to be seen from afar. Trees begin to hide in the dark. We, too, are slowly dimming among the unseen beauty, leaving only the sprinkle of red shot out from the sun.

Cleansing the Spirits

When the last ray of sunshine vanished, we had reached our destination. It was a temple-like building with a front porch roofed by a gigantic Thangka. I was astonished by this massive work of art, when I saw a little boy’s head peek out from the door at us curiously. When he saw me looking at him, he ran inside with his face gleaming. After a while, out came the little boy, along with a middle-aged woman and man dressed in Tibetan traditional clothes, walking towards me. I saw that the woman was holding a cup of boiling hot tea in her hand, only then did I realize that they were my host family. I don’t speak Tibetan, so my guide translated everything for me. The tea that the woman was holding is Tibet’s traditional butter tea, simply made out of butter, salt, and water. Either way, it is something a Tibetan cannot live without.

My heart beating with excitement, Mike and I entered the house. A tangy smell of burning incense grabbed my interest. A huge golden Buddha statue stood with authority in front of us. Tibetan people strongly worship their beliefs. That night, I entered my slumber almost immediately, not only due to physical tiredness, but also looking forward to the arrival of next day.

Mike woke me before the sun started shining. He said it was their bathing festival. We changed into casual clothes and walked to the lake carrying tsampa and butter tea for lunch. The sun began to rise. It made the water in the lake look greener and limpid. Most had already taken off their clothes, amusing themselves in the lake. Sounds of laughter echoed through the air. I surged forward, could not stand the hot weather anymore, and flicked the water once or twice. It was so soft and gentle, and I suddenly felt the lake stroking me like silk cloth. On impulse, I soaked my body in the water, greedily drinking from the lake. On this particular day, the sun was burning hot, but we were all satisfied in the midst of the lake.

Towards the afternoon, I had to get out of the pleasantly cool water to catch the bus. As I started to climb to the pure and holy, tall enough to reach the sky, a strand of poetic warmth wind, gently blew over my face. It was another world, another paradise. Standing over the mountains, and watching people bath in the lake below, I felt grateful for the opportunity to visit Tibet. When I returned to the square, the walls were still. Plain and white. White, just like the pure heart of every Tibetan. I honestly have no regrets going there.

“Wear fur in the morning, wear silk at

noon, and sit around a fire to eat

watermelon at night.”

�adies in colorful dresses and hats with a million pigtails under each hat; men

wearing colorful flat hats; people with blond, auburn or other non-black colored hair and

blue or green eyes. They are a far cry from what most people would consider Chinese

would look like and yet still be Chinese. This is the colorful Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous

Region. A place I always dreamed of going to.

As I delved into the history of the

region, I realized that the original Uyghurs

were Mongolians who left Mongolia,

moved into Tarqim Basin, and intermarried

with its original eastern Iranian inhabitants.

Various studies show that ethnically the

mixture is approximately 60% Caucasian

and 40% East Asian, varying from tribe to

tribe. Well, that explains the Caucasian

features that I was so fascinated with as a

child. As I dug further, I learned that

Uyghur is not an ethnic term; instead it is a

political term invented by the Russians to

designate the various tribes who lived in

that region. The region they occupy

actually spread into the surrounding

countries of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and

Turkey, all of which border Xinjiang, though

Xinjiang has the largest population.

Uyghur’s religion is very much

dependent on the population mix and its

location. When Mongolians were moving

into the region which had been populated

by Persians, Buddhism, the religion of the

Mongolians, ruled the region. Later, the

Muslim culture of the Ottoman Empire was

sweeping through the region to the West,

so some of the chieftains converted to

Muslim. Afterwards, the entire region,

THE COLORFUL LIFE OF THE UYGHURS

including the Uyghurs, succumbed to the

Ottoman Empire’s influence and became

mostly Muslim. Its rich religious

background left the region with a wealth of

archaeological treasures, including

Buddhist cave temples and 4,000-year-old

mummies, which are major

attractions for tourism as

much as the region’s unique landscape.

Being an important historic link in

the Silk Road, Xinjiang is well known for its

trading and transportation activities. It

even produces its own silk with its own

special patterns, black and white in a

waving pattern or very colorful patterns that

dazzle the eye. But trading is not its only

economic activity. Xinjiang is known for its

agriculture produces: its grapes, raisins,

apricots, walnuts, dates, melons etc. Its

unique desert climate, cold temperature in

the morning and the evening and hot

temperature during the noon throughout

the growing season, produces the biggest,

the best, and the juiciest fruit. Besides

agriculture, it also produces unique brass

utensils and pottery similar to those used in

other Muslim cultures. In recent years, oil

and gas have been found in abundance in

the region. So besides trading, agriculture,

and handicraft, its economy can boast of

oil and gas production.

The language of the Uyghur

belongs to the Turkic language family.

Fortunately for me, the family I am visiting

speaks both English and

Mandarin. Leaving Hawaii with a

balmy year-round temperature of

28 degrees Celsius, I have packed all my

skiing clothes, mindful of the Chinese

saying that in Xinjiang people wear fur in

the morning, wear silk at noon, and sit

around a fire to eat watermelon at night.

I flew into Urumqi around 1pm and

spent the next 8 hours getting to my host

Uyghur family in Hetian to participate in the

wedding of the daughter for the next 24

hours. Along the way I saw oceans of sand

dunes as far as the eye can see. Carts

pulled by donkeys, men riding horses or

camels, cars, trucks whisked by the window

as I tried to take in everything. Most of the

people did not wear indigenous colorful

outfits. They wore what I would call regular

shirts, sweaters, jackets, and pants. But they

wore colorful native hats, both men and

women. And some of the men carried

knives, the curved kind.

Page 23 Page 24

The style of architecture varies from

region to region. I particularly like the

courtyard style typical of the Hetian region.

I am glad that I got to see it in person on

this trip. The host family lived out of town

with its own enclosed courtyard. As I

arrived, I noticed the front door looked like

it could belong to any courtyard anywhere

in China with its rounded studs neatly

arranged in rows all over the door,

resembling those gilded ones on the red

doors of the Forbidden City, with large

ornamental metal hinges spread on the

side of the door, and with the oversized

brass knocker. However, once I stepped

inside the courtyard, the first thing that

struck me was the abundance of raised

sitting-combination-sleeping space. The

spacious courtyard, under the shade of a

roof held up by carved columns, which roof

leaves the center of the courtyard open to

the air, boasts of raised sitting-

combination-sleeping space covered in

red felt in every direction except for the

center walkway which is open to the air.

The same thing is repeated in every room

that leads off the courtyard: each room is

bare except for the spacious raised red felt

covered sitting-combination-sleeping

space, which covers about 2/3 of each

room. One wall of each room has shelving

with typical Muslim shaped arch and

carving, and the walls of the courtyard also

feature such typical Muslim motif carving. I

assumed such spacious sitting/sleeping

space must be due to extended family

sharing one courtyard.

As I entered the courtyard, the

extended family members of my host

family poured out of every room and

surrounded me. I was hurried off to the

bachelor party by a groom’s friend

assigned to take care of me. I was told that

I had already missed part of the party, the

part where the party was held in the

groom’s parents’ home. We hurried to the

restaurant where the party currently was

being held. From prior research I knew I

had missed not only home-cooked food

but also the tearful goodbye between the

groom and his mother, a ritual signifying

that the groom was finally a grown man

ready to leave home and have a family of

his own. When we arrived at the

restaurant, we were led to a table where

the groom’s family and closest friends were

eating, drinking, talking, and having a good

time. Everyone made me welcome and

instructed me to eat. The food kept

coming. Everyone kept eating. I only

understood an occasional word here and

there since everyone was too relaxed to

remember to speak English or Mandarin to

me. In the wee hours of the morning, the

party moved to the best man’s home to

continue the eating, the drinking, and the

talking.

At 5:30am, the party left for the

bride’s parent’s home. We got

there around 6am and were ushered to the

living room, where it was already crowded

with people. An imam was there, the bride,

all decked out in red, and the groom were

there too, but they were standing apart,

each surrounded by friends; the bride’s veil

was down. The imam prayed, which

sounded like singing to me, and then he

talked. Then the bride and the groom

exchanged vows; afterwards, the imam

prayed again. Throughout it all, I

understood not a word, though words

were not necessary to understand what was

going on.

Afterwards, the wedding activities

were like those found anywhere in China:

the bride was whisked away, the groom’s

party went to form a procession of vehicles

to come and take the bride to the groom’s

home, a procession usually consisting of

several sedans with two lead trucks (the first

truck would carry a photographer to

videotape the entire event; the second

truck typically carry a bunch of boisterous

young men dancing and hollering); then

there was the heckling, singing, and gift

offering before the bride would consent to

leave her home; upon arrival at the

groom’s home, the bride’s veil

would be lifted by the oldest living relative

of the groom, allowing the groom to kiss

the bride; lastly, everyone departs for a

formal dinner and dancing, an event, which

every wedding activities led up to. Too bad

I had to leave for long track back to the

Urumqi airport and miss the formal dinner.

Other than the religious ceremony

with imam at the bride’s parents’ home, the

uniquely colorful outfits of the Uyghur, and

the singing and the music to get to the

bride in the afternoon, this wedding bears

much similarity with those I attended in

Beijing in the past. But it is the differences

that will forever brand this wedding into my

memory. The food (oh, the food) was far

better than any I had had before at a

Chinese wedding. And the colorful

clothes! My eyes are still recovering from

seeing all those dazzling colors. Neither

am I likely to soon forget the uniquely

wonderful singing style and the different

Page 25 Page 26

music instruments I saw. Besides, this is

the longest wedding I have ever attended.

I usually just attend the formal dinner.

All in all, I am very thankful for the

opportunity to go on this trip. I got to see,

feel, and immerse in Uyghur culture for 24

hours, and, as a bonus, I witnessed a

Uyghur wedding first hand. And the other

things on my wish list that I did not get to

experience this time can be crossed off on

my next, more extended trip.

Page 27

Work Credits

Davy: Introduction page, His personal contributor's page, photo for is article, The Second New Year, the minority infographic, Mission statement, quote page for own article,

William: pollution infographic, pollution map, map of china, the colorful Uyghurs essay, table of content

Catherine: Essay, cover page, go pro advertisement, photos for contributors page, back-cover photo. work credits.

JJ: Cover page photo, ISB advertisement, contributor page edition overall, Equality

Quality,

FUTUR.E

5.2015