A Tale of Two Cities Supporting Xinjiang

The sea breeze in September was already cool. Reheman stood downstairs at the dormitory building of Dalian University of Technology, looking at the messages that kept popping up on his phone screen.

"Senior, the food in the cafeteria is too bland. Where can I buy naan bread?"

"Senior Reheman, what should I do if I can't understand any of the advanced mathematics lectures?"

"Senior, I miss home..."

Reheman sighed and replied to each of them: "Meet me at 3 PM on the second floor of Cafeteria No. 3. I'll take you to buy naan bread."

"Don't worry about advanced calculus, I'll help you catch up this weekend."

"I miss home too, but we need to support each other."

After sending the message, he looked up at the gray-blue sea in the distance.

Three years ago, he stood here just like this, feeling lost, homesick, unable to get used to the food, and unable to understand the lessons.

Now, he can give classroom presentations in fluent Chinese, knows which halal restaurant has the most authentic taste, and has even learned a few words in the Northeastern dialect.

But every September, a group of younger students from Xinjiang face the same predicament he faced back then.

"I should do something," Reheman muttered to himself.

That afternoon, seven or eight Xinjiang students sat at a table in the corner of the second floor of the No. 3 canteen.

Some people were looking down at their phones, while others were muttering complaints; the atmosphere was somewhat somber.

Reheman walked over carrying a large bag of naan bread: "Come on, come on, fresh out of the oven, still warm!"

The aroma of naan made the atmosphere a bit more lively.

A freshman girl named Gulnazar whispered, "Senior, I've been here for a week and I've lost three pounds..."

Reheman broke off a piece of naan bread and handed it to her, "That's normal, I was like that when I first came here too."

However, there are several halal restaurants in Dalian whose flavors have been adjusted but are still considered authentic.

I'll take you this weekend.

"But I have a lot of classes during the week, so I don't have time to go that far," one of the boys said.

Reheman thought for a moment and said, "How about this, we create a group, and whoever finds a good halal restaurant nearby can share it in the group."

Also, several students could share an off-campus apartment with a kitchen and cook for themselves.

"Cook for ourselves?" The group exchanged bewildered glances. "None of us know how..."

"I'll teach you; I can cook some simple Xinjiang dishes."

A boy wearing glasses raised his hand, "Senior, I'm from a science and engineering university, and I really can't understand advanced mathematics."

The teacher spoke too fast, and I couldn't understand what was written on the blackboard...

Reheman nodded: "I was the same back then."

Okay, let's find a place this weekend and I'll give you extra lessons.

"I'm not bragging, but I got over 100 points on my advanced calculus exam."

"Really?" the bespectacled boy exclaimed in surprise.

Reheman held up one finger, "But there's a condition: once you've learned it, you must go and help other students who are in even greater need."

It's not easy for us Xinjiang students here; we need to help each other.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

That night, Reheman created a WeChat group called "Xinjiang Students in Dalian".

He sent his first message in the group: "No matter what difficulties you encounter, whether it's studying, living, or missing home, you can talk about it here."

We are a family, and we should support each other.

For their first weekend gathering, Reheman rented a small meeting room near the school.

A dozen or so people came from different universities in Dalian.

"There are more people than I thought," Reheman said, somewhat surprised.

Gulnazar whispered, "I asked around at my school, and a lot of Xinjiang students want to participate."

Reheman nodded and stepped forward: "Hello everyone, I am Reheman from Dalian University of Technology."

The reason I've called everyone here today is to establish a mutual aid association for students from Xinjiang.

Simply put, it means we're here to help each other and solve problems together.

He opened the PowerPoint presentation, which listed several questions:

What should I do if I can't keep up with my studies?

What should I do if I'm not used to the lifestyle?

What to do if you miss home?

What do you want to do after graduation?

"I encountered all of these problems during my freshman year."

Reheman said, "When I couldn't keep up with my studies, I would borrow notes from my classmates and read them over and over again. If I didn't understand something, I would ask them."

I'm thick-skinned and not afraid of being laughed at.

Someone laughed.

"If I'm not used to the lifestyle, I'll go find something."

Since I couldn't find authentic pilaf, I learned to make it myself.

Unable to buy naan bread, I discovered a man from Gansu near the back gate of the school who could make it. Although it wasn't the Xinjiang style, it tasted pretty good.

I miss home...

Reheman paused for a moment, "This is the hardest. When I was a freshman, I often cried under the covers in the middle of the night."

Later I found that it was better to stay in touch with my classmates from my hometown and share more about life here.

Also, we need a home here, which is our mutual aid society.

He continued, "As for what I want to do after graduation, I haven't completely figured it out yet."

But I'm preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam and want to stay in mainland China to work for a few years, gain experience, and then return to Xinjiang.

Xinjiang needs talent who understand both the inland areas and the outside world.

A boy raised his hand: "Senior, my Chinese isn't good. I can't understand the lessons, and I'm afraid to communicate with Han Chinese classmates. What should I do?"

"This is an excellent question. My suggestion is, firstly, to record each class and listen to it repeatedly when you get home;"

Second, actively seek out one or two Han Chinese classmates to make friends. Don't be afraid of making mistakes; they won't laugh at you.

Third, our mutual aid association can organize a Chinese language corner where everyone can practice together.

"You can even organize a Chinese corner?" Gulnazar asked excitedly.

"Of course, we can invite Han students to participate, and we can teach each other. We can teach them Uyghur, and they can teach us Mandarin. Wouldn't that be great?"

Before the party ended, Reheman asked everyone to introduce themselves.

After the round, there were people from Urumqi, Kashgar, and Yili...

Although they come from different hometowns, they are all "Xinjiang students" here.

Rehman suggested, "Let's select a few people in charge, and choose one liaison from each school to be responsible for collecting the questions and needs of Xinjiang students in their respective schools."

Then we'll have regular gatherings—for learning and exchanging ideas, having meals together, and even providing psychological support.

Everyone unanimously elected Reheman as the person in charge.

"Since everyone trusts me, I will definitely do my best," Reheman said solemnly.