When I read novels as a child, I always read about the place called “The Western Region”. The author describes that the people here also look different. The men were lanky; the women were tall, with blue eyes and blond hair, and their faces had deep contours. They rode camels, lived in tents in the vast desert, and held red wine in cups made of jade, and had mouthfuls of lamb. I had the impression that this place was very mysterious, and the desire to visit burned like a flame.
When I grew up, and fell in love with photography, I finally got my wish and went to this mysterious place. When I was deep inside the territory, I could not understand a word of the speech I heard. The people’s lifestyle, food and culture were very different. There was nothing untrue in what I had read in my childhood, and the place was just as described.
The unpredictable deserts, the endless grasslands, the majestic snow-capped mountains, the customs and people are so bold and cheerful that it feels like going to another country.
This place called “The Western Region” is Xinjiang.