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发帖数: 1130 | 1 书名 Shadow of silk road
Chapter 6 "Kashgar" have 12 pages. 下面是节录
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But the restaurant where you disembark is raucous with hard-headed
Chinese from Sichuan, and soon you are romanticising the Uighur warmth
and generosity. You reach your destination in a schizophrenic misery,
and take refuge in your room, only to be invaded by a troupe of SARS
doctors alerted by the hotelier to the fevered-looking foreigner.
Through the soft sprawl of the Uighur town, the Chinese roads pushed
like knife-blades.
Sixty foot statue of Mao Zedong -- too vast safely to dismantle --
lifted his arm like a club. In these cold spaces the Arabic script
vanished from the shop signs, displaced by Chinese.
They were called Power Station or Wonder Girl.
Then you discover that they are the creation not of the Chinese, but
of the Uighur, defining themselves against the occupying power. Where
the Chinese see a village society, backward, irrelevant, the Uighur
find zest and freedom. To the Chinese, a Uighur lack of balance and
realism; to the Uighur, a Chinese failure of the heart.
"I think Kashgar will become a Chinese city, like Urumqi. Pure concrete."
"Even in the villages you find the farmers drunk in the evening. And
some get married many times, and some even have more than one wife, in
secret" He had forgotten that Islam sanctioned this. I hate it. I
will marry only once.
"Communism, what can it do for us? We need to feel looked after, that
there is a future. But the party's lost. In the offices, nobody works.
They take in a newspaper and some tea, even a pillow for napping. Then
each one sits in this own room, doing nothing. I a day they read a few
government documents, perhaps, and hold a meeting. That's all. There
are thousands and thousands of these offices, all doing nothing".
"The party has no morality. I am a member myself, sometimes our leader
make excuses to hold a banquet, and afterwards they go to a
foot-washing parlour -- they are really brothels -- and they get drunk
and go with the dancing girls. Sometimes they even give these women as
gifts. One leader will present another with a prostitute for the
night, and after that the donor has him by the tail because of their
secret".
"In 1997 protesting Uighur students were gunned down in Gulja waving
the flags of an Eastern Thurkestan. Thousands disappeared into prison
or labour camps, to join those vanished every year before".
I say to Ahmadjan: "I won't ask what you think about the labor camps"
which is a way of asking, of course. He smiles into silence. But that
evening, in western Kashgar, across a distant building site, I notice
a line of men in blue uniforms, digging a trench under armed guard
I say: "you want to leave?" It is I now who am provoking him. His yes
stay closed, as though he is seeing a vision. But it is a vision of
blood. "We are getting polluted. Even our women. In the past they
were very pure. But now they sleep with different men. At a country
marriage the groom still has to show a bloodstrained cloth after the
first night. But now Chinese surgeons are advertising they can restore
a woman's virginity"
I asked "why did they stop the marriage?" Sometimes he looks deranged.
His eyes shoot open. "Because I'm a Uighur. Uighurs don't have a
nation as they Uzbeks do. We are just a persecuted minority. Nobody
wants to marry a Uighur. That's what they've done to us. |
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