by Jessica Chen '07

I spent my summer in China riding camels, eating lamb every meal, visiting sacred tombs and mosques, and interviewing Muslim minorities. The highlight of the trip was definitely Xinjiang province. Arriving in the bus stop in Urumqi was like exiting China and entering another country. All the signs were suddenly bilingual with Mandarin on top and Uyghur print underneath; it sounded like people around me were speaking in many different languages. Everywhere on the street women were walking around in brightly colored scarves and jeans or covered head to foot in sparkling gowns embroidered with strips of iridescent silver. There is an exoticness to Xinjiang that is still well preserved in some areas, like Kashgar, where the Sunday bazaar remains the biggest event for the city. Every Sunday, and even throughout the week, the streets are crowded with men and women on tractors, donkeys, and horses, driving their products to market. One walks along sidewalks lined with stands selling naan bread, rugs, spices, meat, and anything else you could think of. Kashgar was definitely my favorite city.

I found my time with the Hui and Uyghur people enthralling, exciting, and pleasant. They were friendly and fascinating, and I felt very much at home eating their foods, wandering their streets, and living in their neighborhoods. The frustrating and alarming thing I discovered was that most Han Chinese did not share this sentiment at all. On the contrary there was blatant stereotyping, racism, and antagonism towards these minorities. Complaints of them smelling funny, being dirty, uneducated, cunning, and liars came to me from many Han Chinese. There was also a jealously towards the fact that minorities are exempt from the one-child policy, and are allowed lower test scores for college entrance. In Xinjiang especially, because of the controversial history of conquering and modernizing, the Han majority feel that these people owe them something for “saving their land from poverty and backwardness.” Self-segregation was particularly evident between the Han and other minorities. The minority neighborhoods were considered dangerous, dirty, and full of thieves. Even between the Hui and Uyghur there was some tension. Some Xinjiang Uyghurs found the Hui in Xi’an to be less religious and too assimilated.

I was struck too by the liberalness, fluidity, and openness of the Chinese Muslim community. I was so scared I would have trouble getting into mosques, but the people there were welcoming. One man who I interviewed from the Great Mosque of Xi’an spoke eagerly about everything from women’s rights to the war in Iraq, stressing the entire time that Islam was a religion that wanted to protect people from harm, ensure peace, and promote honesty. Being a “Muslim” was also very fluid. When I asked “What is your religion?” and “Would you consider yourself Muslim?” most people answered ambiguously. Many cited that they did not attend the mosque at all and only kept a loose association with the faith for major events like funerals and marriages. Even so, parents still continued to give their children two names –one in Chinese and the other in Arabic. Furthermore, every minority I talked to refused to eat food that was not prepared by a Muslim or according to Muslim standards. This notion of the centrality of food to ethnic, cultural, and religious identity is something I hope to research and expand upon in my comps next term.