bayinbuluke

——To my softest distance

 

On August 26, 2019, I was in Xinjiang, continuing my journey and summer.

A group of us set out from downtown Korla in the morning, winding all the way. The car was full of people, everyone had endless homely things to do, and talked about countless memories.

My aunt and her family, who had settled in Xinjiang in their early years, were almost never able to return to their hometown of Sichuan because of their family and career. This trip to Xinjiang has also been a long time coming. Carrying the joy of childhood and the regret of youth, the older generation discussed the differences between the two cities on the road, lamenting the rapid changes and changes in things and people. I listened to them with relish about the past, and listened to the aunt and uncle talking about this city. The ups and downs the city goes through. There were crystal tears in the corners of each of their eyes, like the reflection of the sky and the ocean, and all their thoughts were out of reach. Auntie and grandma cuddled tightly together. She held grandma's hand and listened carefully to the strange stories that grandma brought from her hometown. Then she smiled innocently like a child. Auntie's bloated and kind face was She was so joyful, as if every wrinkle in her body could feel it. My aunt stared out the window, laughing and wiping her tears, and sobbed softly, "Just wait a few more years, wait for the children."
When I grow up a little, I will go back to my hometown to visit. "
In all my previous years, I have had many moving journeys. For example, I gazed at the noble gaze of the city under thousands of lights, and peered into the countryside with a detailed and ordinary mood. I also had a panoramic view of the mountains, rivers, lakes and seas north of the equator. But they made my heart surge, but they were all the same, making it difficult for me to remember them fresh in the future.

 

I think that's because I have never walked into a grassland.

The car was still driving, and the scenery along the way changed again and again. From the initial green canyon, it gradually turned into low broad-leaved shrubs and grass. The car drove through several dark tunnels one by one. The green outside the window slowly faded, and in the Gobi Desert beyond the fog, scattered power-generating windmills were turning. After an unknown period of time, the dense crescent-shaped sand dunes began to disappear again.

 

At almost dusk, we finally arrived at Bayinbuluke, a small town with a longitude of about 84 degrees east, a northern latitude, and a few hours time difference from most other parts of China. Coupled with its high altitude, the long days and short nights in summer are particularly classic. It is not so much dusk now, but we are following Beijing time. The sun is shining brightly in Bayinbulak at this moment, spreading from the sky to the top of the grass, everything is the best golden color. The local aboriginal residents have never been strict with time. They enjoy nature, gallop freely on the grassland, and sing songs in the yurt while drinking wine, as if they are full of enthusiasm and want to lean into the vastness.

I quickly packed my luggage and ran out of the yurt, heading towards the grassland and blue sky that I had longed for. At eight or nine o'clock in the evening, the grassland is still brightly lit. Although the sea and sky are sweltering in the scorching heat, the sunshine is rarely soft and warm. They penetrate through the thin atmosphere and shine lovingly on every inch of the grass, as if they were Bayinbuluke's skin, leaving no trace or any shadow.

Where we live, there is a clear spring. To the north of the clear spring is a green mountain. At the end of the mountain a few miles away, it seems to be a glacier whose thickness cannot be seen with one finger. It floats vaguely in the transparent air, and the mist around it slowly brews and evaporates in the sunlight, and finally turns into a soft mist, wandering among the floating clouds, covering up the whistling eagles.

 

I crave everything that is new here, and I want to visit many places before sunset. I chased the wind from the grassland, covered with soft clouds, and carried the fragrance of the grass, all the way to the spring at the foot of the mountain. Looking around, there are many animals that develop animal husbandry here - horses drinking water by the spring, cattle grazing on grass, donkeys spinning around, and colorfully marked sheep. They are all over the mountains and fields, as if they are driving on the mountainside. flower.

At that time, the water was flowing and everything was bathed in the sunset. The grasslands and mountain gaps are filled with the laughter and laughter of visitors, and the hearty and bold singing voices of herdsmen are echoed, sometimes mixed with the lowing of livestock. In this way, all kinds of clean and pure sounds are packed into the dewy breeze, like sobering nectar, like sweet wind chimes, awakening every soul that has been intoxicated and deep.

The sun was setting little by little on the rolling hills, and the dark red-orange sunset glow on the horizon was pushing away layer by layer, constantly sweeping up the billowing clouds above my head. They moved forward fieryly and quickly, spreading as far as my eyes could see. dreamy sky. I can't help but want to recite Li Taibai's poem - I would like to ride on the cool wind, straight out of the floating clouds; I can reach the moon with my hand, and walk forward as if there are no mountains.

At that time, I really hoped to keep time. I really wanted to stay in this grassland forever. From early spring to late winter, I want to experience every transition and not miss any migration. Like sunshine, like morning dew, like afterglow, like evening breeze, like everything that grows in Bayinbuluk, living slowly, wandering slowly, and growing old slowly on this boundless oasis. Being with my family and storing my time and soul in nature is the greatest romance in my heart.

 

Taking advantage of the brilliance of the setting sun, my aunt suggested walking to the hillside to have a look. Everyone was very interested and agreed unanimously. When we climbed to the end of the hillside, our feet were covered with vermilion-brown rocks and brilliant flowers, which were shining like twinkling stars and pearls. We walked around and happily took pictures with our cameras. During this period, each other's funny and exaggerated poses caused constant laughter. Everyone laughed wildly, throwing away all the baggage and worries in their minds, laughing so hard. In the clean and bright frames, happiness turns out to be so simple. I eagerly and persistently desire to occupy this free and warm world, and want to encapsulate them all under the lens. It's all so wonderful that it's almost unreal!

"Second sister, we are finally together! Look, what a happy family we are! Over the years, we have finally had time to get together. I say you...hey! Just stay a little longer. ." As she said this, my aunt frowned again. She was not very satisfied with our itinerary and kept complaining that we bought our return tickets too early. Then, as if she suddenly remembered something, her aunt held her arm and said to herself regretfully: "It's a pity that Lin Wa'er, Xiao Hu and Weiwei didn't come back this time. If they come back, What a lively scene! It must be fun.”

"That's right, they are busy with work and can't afford to leave it behind."

"It's okay, it's okay! Don't affect their work. When they are busy, you can come over and play all the way. How nice!"

Grandma laughed "haha", patted her chubby shoulder, and comforted her and said: "Benfen, this is so embarrassing! You see, Enen and Lala left their work and stayed with us the whole time. We After enjoying it for so many days, we are satisfied!

 

"Hey! Sister Li'er, Sister Chunlian, you all listen, look at what the second aunt said, she is treating us like outsiders!" The aunt did not agree with grandma's point of view, and quickly interrupted, "It's not like Xinjiang doesn't exist without you. Where we live, you guys live in Lala House, which is close to my home anyway. It will be very convenient for us to eat and play together. "

Before the aunt could finish her words, the aunt rushed to the side and chimed in, "Yes, we don't have any relatives in Xinjiang that we can interact with each other. Fortunately, you are back this year. Not to mention how happy and noisy we are! Taking advantage of the children's summer vacation , just play for a while!”

"Okay! We're totally fine! Then we can live with our aunt and uncle!" As children, we have been having so much fun these days that we wish we could never go back to Sichuan!

"You must have it! Move all your household registrations to Xinjiang!" The aunt and the aunt finally discovered our group of allies and readily reached an agreement with us.

"Listen, listen, these heartless, inexplicable bastards, they really don't have noses!" Mom couldn't help but laugh, and after finishing speaking, she planned to catch us.

"Hahahahaha..." We ran towards the top of the mountain. The breeze blew gently, mixed with the fragrance of soil and grass, blowing into our bodies and blowing up the huge skirts and skirts. The adults were all amused, and even my aunt, who was full of sorrow and sadness just now, burst into tears and laughed.

 

Staying like this all the way, we climbed to the highest point of the hill. Standing between heaven and earth, above the wilderness, below the sky, everything in the world becomes small and insignificant. "A mayfly is sent to heaven and earth, a drop in the ocean." It seems that everyone has nothing to worry about, and all our distracting thoughts and thoughts are swallowed up in the wind of the grassland. Looking around, Bayinbuluk has an unobstructed view, and all the snow-drop-like yurts can be seen at a glance. In this miraculous desert green island, on the gentle and open top of the mountain, there are countless wild succulent plants in full bloom. They grow towards the sun and wait for the clouds to roll in and relax, creating a magnificent landscape of flowers blooming into snow.

We stood on the top of the mountain and shouted loudly towards the grassland. Suddenly, ripples appeared in the calm air around him, and these clear and loud echoes were gently carried to distant lands. This was the closest contact I had with nature, and I realized that all things are equal in front of nature. There is no noble one, there is no despicable one, they are all living beings, and they are all singing for mortals. I can also feel more and more that I have walked into Bayinbulak and entered its deepest tranquility and harmony.

After ten o'clock at night, night falls in Bayinbuluke. We plan to go back and taste the dinner of the original residents. At this moment, the bright fire clouds on the horizon are no longer dazzling, and the red glow of the setting sun is gradually dimming. It puts away the light parked on the grassland and slowly retreats. At the end of the plain, in the center of the undulating mountains, the outline of the alternation of day and night becomes clearer.

 

Since the path up the mountain and down the mountain are not consistent, the scenery we saw when going down the mountain was completely different. I remember coming down from the top of the mountain, before walking a few stone steps, a towering tower came into view. It was made up of many colorful flags of different shapes piled up in an orderly manner, swaying in the wind. My aunt said that these are colorful prayer flags, which symbolize kindness, auspiciousness and the presence of gods. They were spread by previous believers of Tibetan Buddhism. It is said that they can also guard the beautiful vision of believers. So according to custom, we silently walked around the prayer flags three times, leaving behind our long-cherished wishes. I kept thinking in my heart - the next time I get together with my aunt, I will be fine and it will be just around the corner.

At around eleven o'clock in the evening, we returned to the yurt. Under the meticulous hospitality of my uncle, we enjoyed a feast with a regional style - delicious and plump mutton skewers, mellow and rich wine, Xinjiang-style chicken, mouth-watering roasted whole lamb, and delicious hands Plucked rice, hand-caught lamb chops, as well as sweet and glutinous yogurt dumplings and naan pancakes with various fillings...

While we were dining, my uncle also invited a local folk band. They were dressed in beautiful Uyghur costumes, giving people a festive and cheerful look. The bearded singer held the khatas in his hands and put them on for us one by one. In an instant, he affectionately presented the beautiful songs of the Uyghur nation. The girl dancing behind him performed the graceful dance gracefully and smiled lightly, while the musician holding Dutar sat aside, shaking his head and playing. Playing music. Although I can't understand the meaning of the lyrics, I can still feel the melodiousness of the tune. We followed the melody and beat the beat together. Everyone present was immersed in the passionate singing and dancing of the Uyghur people. Everyone was curious about how this beautiful Uyghur girl twisted her neck flexibly. Later, everyone simply stood up from the couch and gathered around the yurt to sing and dance together...for a while, As tourists, no matter the ethnic differences or language difficulties, we seem to be able to sing and dance, and naturally integrate into this brilliant ethnic group.

The swaying lights, mixed with dots of fluorescent lights, danced in the breeze. This radiant warmth passed through our yurt and drifted into the stars of the Milky Way. Yes, in countless emotional resonances, intertwined with memories and longings, we have integrated into this handsome and beautiful nation and this sacred and lovely distant place.

 

Until many days later, I still often miss that midsummer, that piece of grassland, that time when three generations shared family happiness. The 2020 college entrance examination is the second college entrance examination I will experience in my life. During this year, my vision has been obscured by the gray desolation, which is extremely difficult. That was not only because I was studying alone in a foreign land, but also because I was powerless and contrary to my dreams. I often miss home, feel confused, and secretly cry under the covers because of the invisible pressure of the college entrance examination. At this time, that pure land is constantly healing me. I have recalled it more than once, and my eyes have filled with tears more than once. It seems that every scene frozen in Bayinbuluke is still within my reach. This kind of warmth and romance is indescribable and difficult for ordinary people to empathize with. It is also something that no one else or anywhere else can bestow on me.

Time tilted little by little like an hourglass. In Bayinbulak late at night, everything was silent, and the entire town and grassland fell into sleep. The velvet-like blue and purple sky was slightly smoked and scattered with stars all night long.

"People should not be still life in a vase for people to watch, but a rhythm spreading on the grassland and dancing with the wind." Across countless mountains and seas, from south to north, and all the way to the west, I have traveled to Xinjiang, which has various styles. , arrived at the holy and pure Bayinbuluk. This is the softest place in my heart. Here, I spent the most unforgettable time in my life and left the most unforgettable memories.

Leave a Reply