Chapter 26 The style of Yingkou

The official business in Shenyang was over, and I decided to cross the sea to Yantai via Dalian and then return.In this way, you can not only appreciate the richness and sea of ​​the Shenyang-Dalian Expressway, but also go to Yingkou, an emerging industrial city by the Liaodong Bay, and visit an old chief I admire very much. When Shenyang left, it was raining continuously in autumn, and the city was immersed in the mist.Since this road is completely closed, not only the up and down lanes are strictly separated, but also the fast and slow trains have their own tracks, so drivers can speed up boldly.It was told that Shenyang and Dalian, two cities with a distance of more than 400 kilometers, can reach each other in only four hours after the opening of the expressway, which is three hours shorter than ordinary express trains.Yingkou is located in Shenyang University, and we arrived on time.When the car stops, the pleasure of light and high speed is still vague in my mind. What I see in front of me is the tall buildings and clean streets of Yingkou, with occasional towering cranes and messy piles of building materials, which makes people feel that Yingkou is developing.

After leaving Yingkou Bus Station, I suddenly felt at a loss because I didn't know the address of the chief.Fortunately, he is fairly well-known in Yingkou. He used to be the secretary of the prefectural party committee and the municipal party committee. I heard that he will either go to the National People's Congress or the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference in the future.After several inquiries, it turned out that he had retired from the chairmanship of the CPPCC.Some people say that the rule of old comrades is like this: or the National People's Congress, or the Political Consultative Conference, and finally leave the post.It is not bad to really become a rule, and it also provides an adaptation process.Thanks to the kindness of the comrades of the Yingkou Municipal Cooperative, they sent a car to take us to the residence of this old leader.This is an emerging one-story residential area, but it still maintains a strong pastoral scenery.Hearing that there were guests, the old chief hurriedly came out from the room.It must have been a long time ago, when we were standing opposite each other, he stretched out his hand, squeezed it tightly, and said, "You...how did you grow up like this?"

"It's more than thirty years in a while, can you not be old?" I said. "Look carefully, the appearance hasn't changed much." He took my hand and walked towards the house. "I haven't seen you for more than thirty years. When we parted, I remembered that you were very beautiful, young man." After sitting down, he said again: "I heard that you have been so rough for so many years." "It's all gone. Now everything It's all peaceful." Many past events have been forgotten, and some past events will never be forgotten.Such was the history of the Chief.This is a very decent person. He became the county magistrate right after liberation. When I met him, he was the first secretary of the county party committee. I was an editor and reporter for a tabloid. I spent a lot of time in contact with him, and we talked amicably. .He's candid, outgoing, straight-talking and doesn't hide his views.During the days when we got along, the whole country was in a frenzy: 30,000 catties of small watches per mu, 60,000 catties of rice per mu, and 200,000 catties of sweet potatoes per mu. Thousands of tons of steel, tens of thousands of factories are set up a day... Such "exciting" news is seen in newspapers every day; people's thinking is always in a "backward" state.Late one night, I went to him with two pieces of news. One was from Xinhua News Agency: more than 60,000 catties of rice per mu; the other was local news: 210,000 catties per mu of sweet potatoes.I asked him, "Can I publish the newspaper?" He was very silent, sitting on a wicker chair, thinking for a long time, and then stood up. "How tall do you think I am?" I said inexplicably, "1.8 meters!" He said, "A little more. I am not small, and my body is not thin. Seventy-six kilograms. Use my body to line up on an acre of land—to be more specific, in an area of ​​660 square meters. There can be at most 1,000 people standing. One thousand people is 76,000 kilograms. It is still far from 100,000 kilograms; the yield of rice per mu is more than 60,000 catties, that is to say, 100 catties of rice per square meter, which is 200 catties based on two catties of grain per catty. The land load of one square meter is a huge The figure of him, he is walking towards the vast distance with strong steps

Gobi desert The long road is also passionate From the coast of the East China Sea to Xinjiang in the northwestern border, I felt an inexplicable sense of loss in my heart: the long journey of 4,000 kilometers and 70 to 80 hours, first of all, the doubts of "can I have a safe journey" were branded in my mind; check the road on this road The Heling Chengguan, suddenly recalling the frowning long poem, felt a sense of "puff" - the Hexi Corridor, which is more than 1,000 kilometers long, is said to not grow edible things; No grass, no birds in the sky. "The spring breeze does not cross the t] pass", "there is no old friend in the west of Yangguan"! What a dangerous and difficult road... When I walked out of Urumqi exhausted after more than 70 hours of travel At the station, I seemed to feel that this sweet enjoyment should not end, and I was still a little nostalgic for the "rumbling, swaying" life.

The road is long, but it is beautiful! In Henan and Shanxi, the harvest of autumn crops in the deep valleys and steep mountains, and the ripe fresh fruits in slopes and valleys are all fascinating; the road is even more beautiful...We It crossed the Wushao Ridge of the Qilian Mountains and entered the Hexi Corridor at midnight after a journey of more than 30 hours.Wake us up to take a look, Wushao Ridge, a small station on the dangerous mountain road, has an extremely cold climate.Four hours ago, when I was walking in the twilight on the platform of Lanzhou Station, I was wearing a short shirt and shaking a paper fan, but when the car entered Wushao Ridge, I was shivering from the cold.When I leaned over to close the window, I saw this very ordinary station; and when I moved my eyes again, I couldn't help shouting: "Snow! Snow!" A layer of white snow was pressing down on the undulating mountains.Wushaoling is the eastern end of the Hexi Corridor.This corridor ends at the mouth of the Shuchao River outside Yumen Pass in the west. After driving for a full 16 hours, the desert is boundless, filled with yellow sand, and the red willows on the desolate slopes of the ditch are also withered and listless.There are very few animal footprints here, including humans.Probably due to the influence of the environment, people's spirits are also sleepy.In the afterglow of the setting sun, the car arrived at Jiayuguan.This tail city of the Great Wall rejuvenates people's spirits, and brings life to the dull carriages: "Guan--Jiayuguan!"

I looked to the right along the direction of the car. On the north edge of the city, there are three square tower-like pavilions with slanted eaves and high corners. Covered in the sunset, you can faintly see flags, poles and winding walls—a thousand miles from the eastern Shanhaiguan. This is the end of the Great Wall. The giant dragon that crosses the northern border of China, with its majestic body, shows the soul of the nation and becomes one of the wonders of the world.A month ago, I stood on the head of an old dragon in Shanhaiguan on the shore of the Bohai Sea, watching the majestic appearance of the giant dragon plunged into the bottom of the sea, and still thinking of "her tail--"; now, standing on her tail, I naturally think of "her tail--" Head--"! Someone told me that the end of the Great Wall is not Jiayuguan, but continues westward, at least extending to Yumen. "It's just that the Great Wall is no longer built of stone, but of earth. Years have made her tail lose its elegance!"

Once you pass the Yumen Gate, you will enter the vast Gobi Desert.The Gobi is like the sea.Even the withered and listless red willows are gone. Except for the train running on the Xitiao main artery and the passengers it carries, there is no life here, and even the water for living is gone.The gray gravel, the gravel ditches and ridges that change due to the wind, are shining with frightening silver light everywhere.I missed the green water, the green mountains, the flowers, trees, fish and birds. Everything was in another world! At Liuyuan Station, many people got off the train and turned to Dunhuang to see the world-famous grotto murals.I was hesitating between "going and not going", and I found two birds with unclear names: round bodies with long tails, two big wings, and flat heads mixed with gray and white; they bravely stood on the platform. Among the crowd, they picked up the leftovers and fruit peels that people dropped.No one bullies them.My heart suddenly became hot: they are also life, and in order to survive, they have to have this kind of bravery! I walked back to the car, took out the food packs carefully prepared by my family, and threw them at them one by one.The train started, and I had already left the treasures of Dunhuang out of Jiuxiaoyun.There is still a persistent thought churning in my heart: I hope that a little bit of food from me can add a little source of energy to the survival of the bird couple.I heard from frequent passengers on this route that there are birds on the Gobi Desert, all thanks to the charity of passengers.I always think about this sentence.Later, when I went from Urumqi to the Tarim Basin along the southern Xinjiang line, between Barentai and Hejing, the train walked for about two hours in the snow on the Tianshan Mountains.It was a place covered with snow all the year round, and I found a rabbit in the snow, and I threw a piece of bread to it without hesitation.The hare was fearless, and straightened out his chest, looking straight at the passing train.

My thoughts are shaking and changing; I find the people who travel on this long, desolate railway line, the emotions are changing, and the changes are extraordinarily kind. In midsummer, in order to visit the second (1991) Grape Festival on the Silk Road in China, I hurried from Urumqi to Turpan.When we set off, my friends repeatedly advised me, "Be sure to prepare for heatstroke." They said, "It's the Flame Mountains, and it's very hot!" I've already experienced the heat of the Gobi Desert. How hot can Turpan be? Experience, but I still think: My friends are probably affected by the relationship between Wukong the Walker and Princess Iron Fan, so talk about it and turn pale.

From Urumqi to Turpan, the car journey is 187 kilometers, half in the hinterland of the Tianshan Mountains, and half on the Gobi Desert; half of the half of the journey in the Gobi Desert is almost all walking against the Flame Mountains.When I found out this section of the itinerary, I thought fortunately: Isn’t it only four or fifty kilometers, and I can really appreciate the style of Fire Road! Walking in the belly of Tianshan Mountain, the breeze passes through the windows, the air is cool, a clear stream turns with the mountain, sometimes the water surface is spacious, flowing with clear waves; sometimes there are layers of snow waves on the Quwan trail; white snow.The car stopped in Dabancheng, lured by a song, and the companions wanted to see the Uighur girl with "long braids and beautiful eyes", so they had to wear long gowns before getting out of the car.Therefore, when I talked to the Gobi, I naturally smiled indifferently.

At 2 o'clock in the afternoon, we entered the Gobi Desert from the famous Tianshan wind mouth.According to the time difference, it was exactly 2 o'clock in the noon, the sun was very bright, and the boundless rocks, like scales on the water surface, shone with flesh; people.The companions made a commotion and unloaded their clothes, and the people near the windows began to block the sun with straw hats, paper fans and colored scarves.I looked towards the left side of the car through the window opening, and vaguely found a not so high mountain range, the gray mountain body, showing pieces and sections of flame red.My heart beat: "Flame Mountain!" An old soldier beside me.Said: "That's Huoluoshan!" Probably he is "Old Huoluoshan", and then he slowly narrated the majesty of Huoluoshan, saying, "The temperature there is usually above 47℃, and the highest record has reached 82℃. 3°C." He smiled: "82.3°C is rare, and it is common when it is above 60°C; I have tried it by burying eggs in the sand layer, and they can be cooked quickly. One year, the leader Watching the soldiers erect wires under the Flame Mountain, the heat made the soldiers cry, and some people stuck their heads into the holes dug for the electric poles, but it still didn’t work.” He stroked the glass of the car window with his hand, and said, “In the sun , put the glass flat, let the sun bask in it, and add eggs to fry it!" He said it seriously. I touched the window glass subconsciously, and it was really hot. I panicked at 15:30 , we arrived in Turpan. A heat flow I had never experienced before made me feel dizzy for a moment; when I got out of the carriage, I leaned on the iron railing and moxibusted my hands; I stood by the wall and touched the bricks and moxibusted my hands; As soon as it is on the ground, it turns red; as far as the eyes can see, there are also flames, as if you are in the steaming heat!

We came to Turpan to appreciate the grapes! Probably it was the encouragement of this belief that produced the special determination to resist the heat.After finding a place to live, he hurriedly rented a car and went to Grape Valley regardless of Huoliao. Grape Valley is in the northern suburb of Turpan City, about 5 kilometers away.Where the car passed by, the gray gravel disappeared, replaced by high and low loess slopes, patches of green vineyards and streams that haunted the gardens.Only the steaming turbid waves continued unabated.We rented a small convertible car, the artificial leather seats were like a brazier, and the iron rails on the side of the car were like a pillar of fire; even the shade cloth above the head seemed to be burning blazingly .Unable to sit, support, or stand, it is not an exaggeration to say that he broke into a fire formation. Flame Mountain, the locals call it Kyzyltag.To explain, they are called Hongshan and Huozhou.How it was formed is a long-standing legend.What is understandable is probably just such a reason: this is the edge of the Turpan Basin. Red sandstone, sandstone gravel and mudstone form a fold belt about 100 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide. Due to the lack of vegetation, the hot summer Under the sunshine for a long time (about 17 hours of sunshine in summer), the heat waves on the mountain are billowing, and the clouds of smoke are transpiring, just like burning flames, which naturally makes people feel like a brazier.More on the rendering of poetry, "Volcano",.The name "Huo Hanzhou" makes people frown. Like landlubbers who can't stand water, we couldn't stand the heat, so we stopped by a small stream with the driver's permission.He took out the towel and went to wash his face in a hurry.Ah, the clear spring flowing down from the Tianshan Mountains, although it was icy cold to the bone, it was as if we drank a refreshing medicine, and our brains were cleared up immediately, and our eyes were not dizzy; Stomach; chest out again, very comfortable! I simply soaked the towel, squeezed it a little, and covered my head.However, when we drove again, within 5 minutes, the soaked towels were so dry that we could not sit, support, or stand again.Originally, I planned to come out of Grape Valley and go to the foot of Flame Mountain to experience the fun of boiled eggs in the sand, and also have a sand therapy (according to reports, it is the most effective way to treat various types of arthritis).However, our courage could no longer be summoned up, and we sat under the shady grape trellis for a long, long time without daring to lift ourselves up. .So far, I have just felt that Wu Chengen's story about Sun Xingzhe going to borrow the banana fan without fear of all kinds of difficulties and dangers is not completely fabricated out of thin air.When I returned to Turpan from Grape Valley, I worried about whether I could last many days here.The amazing thing is: the sun sets, and the steaming heat wave gradually disappears.Strolling the streets, the night in Turpan seems to be cool and pleasant with the autumn wind.At night, I had another sweet sleep.The temperature difference is so large, although it is hot and not stuffy, it is a strange place in Turpan! Turpan is an intoxicating place; the grapes in Turpan are even more intoxicating! I had the honor to come here on the eve of the second China Silk Road (1991) Turpan Grape Festival. The intoxicating scene made me forget the high temperature of over 50°C in the Flaming Mountains. As soon as I put my luggage, I hurried out of the hotel. Get under the grape trellises in the streets and alleys, and go from one shade to another: the alley-like grape trellises are green and cool, and the mature grapes hanging under the trellises are green like bunches. The nets; the seeds shaped like horse milk, all transparent and shiny, like the morning dew; the air exuding bursts of heat is also full of attractive sweetness... The grapes in Turpan are ripe , I catch up with a harvest season. Turpan is a bright pearl on the ancient silk road in my country.Her name, derived from Turkic, means a place of abundance and abundance.The city is not big, only equivalent to a county in the mainland, but she is rich in grapes, known as the champion of the world's grape kingdom.There is no city wall here, and there are a few tall buildings. Judging from the shape, they are also buildings in recent years, but the streets and alleys are vertical and horizontal.The most spectacular thing is how long the main streets and alleys of the city are, and how long the green and shady grape racks on the sidewalks on both sides are. You can almost walk around the whole city in the shade. The five-storey roof of the Yanwu building where I live, facing the sunset, overlooks the city, but I can see the sides of the street, like huge green carpets, stretching along the street and criss-crossing the alleys, green and soft, like waves, emerald green This famous city on the Gobi Desert and under the Flame Mountain is decorated in a strange and enchanting way, and has become a veritable city of grapes! Grape Valley is the concentrated production area of ​​Turpan grapes. Grapes are widely planted along the valley, and the valley is famous because of the grapes.Almost no one who comes to Turpan goes to Grape Valley! Even though the temperature that day has exceeded 50°C, I still hurried there. After leaving Turpan and heading north in a hurry, you can see vineyards on both sides of the road connecting into patches of green forest, and there are scattered houses and grapes shaded by grapes that are higher than the roof and have ventilation holes on the walls.I was tempted by the shade room. When I walked in, I realized that it was built of adobe. Bunches of grapes.Car to Grape Valley, but it is a beautiful scenery. Grape Valley is in the Huoyanshan Canyon, which is a not too deep cut and eroded ditch. A clear stream churns from north to south, with waves cascading and splashing.Looking from the bottom of the ditch, there are layers of vineyards, facing the water on the slopes, and the sky is covered with green.Due to the arrival of some "head", we had to wait anxiously in the open space outside the ditch under the scorching sun and groups of tourists from home and abroad for more than two hours before entering the garden.Sitting under the shady grape arbor, I bought a large plate of freshly picked grapes, panting, chewing, and after calming down, I really appreciated the characteristics of the thin skin, soft flesh, juicy and sweet taste of the Mauzi grape. ! The Turpan Grape Festival is held for the second time this year, and it is grand and distinctive: the streets are full of huge grapes and cantaloupe models, and several main streets are divided into professional areas for culture, commodities, fruits, snacks, etc.; After the opening ceremony of the large-scale singing and dancing, the floats are the leader, followed by a band composed of suona and Nagra drums, and then there is a long camel team showing the shape of the Silk Road 2,000 years ago. "Zhang Qian" who was on a mission to the Western Regions, as well as Chang'an and Arab businessmen in ancient costumes, strolled along the long street.According to local newspapers, on the first day of the Grape Festival, that is, on August 20, the number of guests who came to Turpan exceeded the total population of the city, including more than 1,850 foreign guests; Press the streets and alleys until the early morning of the next day.The Grape Festival lasts for six days, with grapes as the link, and a variety of economic, trade and cultural exchanges. With so many guests and friends, such a huge scene, and such carnival day and night, I am really worried that the streets and alleys, the low-hanging and mature Harvested grapes -- after all, they are bunches of sweet and attractive delicious fruits! However, when we peeped from one grape rack to another with unfounded worries, we found that the bunches were not damaged, even Not a single grain is damaged.A friend from the press said: "Here, grapes are no longer just a kind of food, but a natural art treasure, a string of priceless treasures on the Gobi Desert. Who would have the heart to harm her?" !" I suddenly opened my mouth: yes! Did you come all the way to this famous frontier city just to eat a bunch of grapes? And the hospitable Turpan people, who are not willing to offer such perfect and attractive treasures Proud? In Korla, a city on the edge of the Tarim Basin in Xinjiang, I am often tempted by a strange means of transportation—floor trucks.When you walk in the streets and alleys, you will hear a few crisp bells from the front or behind you, and when you look up, it is the floor car that is going back and forth.This kind of cart has no carriage, only a wooden board wider than the bed rests on two rubber wheels, and two wooden sticks protrude from the front and back of the wooden board; ball.The action is quite jumpy, and the crisp bell sound is probably caused by the jump.Most of the people who drive the floor trucks are fellow Uighurs wearing square flower hats.What is particularly amazing is that in this kind of bed-like board car, no matter whether there are customers or not, the driver's little Ba Langzi (little boy) or Gus Barang (female doll) is always sitting; , Xiaobalangzi and Gusbalang are all available.They chattered and fought like no one else was around.I always like to sneak behind the car and enjoy the bouts of irrational laughter. Korla is located at the throat of northern and southern Xinjiang, it was originally a very desolate city.Although it is the capital of Bayingoleng Mongol Autonomous Prefecture, it is said that five years ago, there was not a building with more than five floors, and 80% of the urban population was Uighurs; industries and merchants were also very depressed, and it was rarely seen on the street. motor vehicles.The floor truck acts as the "main force" of the means of transportation.Of course, today's floor truck industry is not so "chic", because today's Korla is far from what it was 5 years ago: since the Tarim Basin found that there are oil reserves equivalent to 5 Daqing, the city has been An organization that shocked the Gobi Desert appeared: "Tarim Petroleum Exploration and Development Headquarters"! Since then, tens of thousands of oil troops have gathered here from all directions of the motherland, and the desolate border town has revived. Stepping towards a modern city, the means of transportation will naturally be modernized accordingly; I noticed that, except for this peculiar floor car, almost all the modern and latest vehicles that can be seen in inland cities are here. Therefore, the floor car can only become an embellishment in this city.However, it is embellished in a fascinating way! That day, I couldn't help finding a floor car and went shopping aimlessly.The floor car is bumping, reflecting with the oncoming or passing luxury cars, forming a wonderful picture, from the broad street to the alley, from the river to the green forest.The Uighur driver, about 40 years old, with a broad, red and black face, kept looking back with hesitant eyes, and then uttered a "question" that he didn't understand but understood.I told him with acting movements and speaking as slowly as possible that I wanted to appreciate the "taste" of taking a floor car and have a full view of the city.He nodded frequently with joy, cracked his whip from time to time, and shouted "Artassi, come on!"--I found out later that it was "Comrade, sit down!" Maybe he felt Seeing that my behavior was bizarre and ridiculous, he used the extremely blunt "Han-Uyghan" language to talk to me frequently while the floor car was galloping.I still can't get enough of it.It seemed that he was asking me about my morals and favors "in my mouth"; when he found that I was always staring and confused, he kept shouting "Nai Gong Kong Bao Dai" -- that was asking me "how many days have I been here?" "I gave an irrelevant answer. Although the language barrier has become an obstacle for us to communicate with each other; however, enjoying the fun of the floor car is still a great satisfaction. Sitting next to me is a little boy about 5 years old, with deep eye sockets, big eyes, wide forehead, and wearing a purple-red half-old square hat--a fellow Uighur, even in the scorching heat Wearing hats; adult men also wear felt hats, which is a strange thing--I asked the driver, "How many balangzi?" "Four." He replied. "And Guzbalan?" "Three!" He replied, looking back at me, with a treacherous smile.Probably because he felt that his childbearing was contrary to the basic national policy, he shook his head with a bit of embarrassment.I also sighed slightly worried about his many children-the one-child policy is about to relax for remote and ethnic minorities.However, it may not be allowed to be as "wide" as this driver.In the streets and alleys of Korla, you can always see groups of Xiaobalangzi and Gusibalang.A few days ago, we visited the home of a fellow Uyghur named Rouzi. She is only 41 years old and is a private primary school teacher with five children.When she entertained us by picking grapes and fragrant pears in the small yard, among the neighbors who came in, the young Balangzi and Guzbalang greatly surpassed their parents' generation.The Korla people are very hospitable. Whether in the Uyghur village or in the shops opened by fellow Uighurs, they are always warm to us visitors from afar.When the elementary school teacher named Rouzi heard that we wanted to go to the house to gather folk songs, she must have invited us to sit on her spacious kang, get milk tea, and pick fresh fruits; her five children even came out to greet us in new clothes; A neighbor also sent freshly baked naan (a special flatbread) for us to taste.Even the fellow who drove us for a half-day sightseeing, when I paid him the pre-agreed fare after my "travelling", he thanked me repeatedly.As a result, when we left the city, we really wanted to ride his floor car across the vast Gobi Desert! When talking about food in Xinjiang, it is always inseparable from cattle, sheep, and mare's milk.I don't mean to compliment, but I never dare to belittle.I just find it very chic and interesting. On the night of arriving in Urumqi, my friend said warmly: "Use Xinjiang flavor to welcome you." I also suspected that it was roast lamb, but I was a little prejudiced, and I was afraid of the spicy taste.But when the main course came, there were big chunks of mutton in a big basin, the meat was pink, the juice was silvery white and the bones were exposed. I straightened my neck and accepted the hospitality.Ah! It's delicious: it's fragrant, tender and overcooked. Apart from the refreshing cumin flavor, I don't feel the spicy smell that I'm worried about.It caused us to grab the chopsticks with our hands and "strike" frequently, and the owner had to make another serving! After eating oily hands, I wanted to ask the name of the product. My friend told me that it was called "hand-grasped meat" and we laughed dumbly because of the name: it turns out When I ate it, because of its delicious taste, I moved my hands with ecstasy.It's called "grabbing meat with hands", and I just felt that "hands-on" is not out of style, so I laughed. The enjoyment of hand-caught meat made me change my expected prejudice, and I was eager to try all kinds of flavors in Xinjiang: On the snack street in Urumqi, I bought a baked bun with mutton and onions; In the alleys of Bobo, I went to eat a plate of pilaf cooked with mutton soup; in the Tianchi tourist area, I waited in a long line for a slice of pancakes; (A ball of noodles stretched into fluffy noodles) I almost missed the tour bus; in Turpan, I chased two little Balangzi (little boys) with big belly pots for half a street before I drank a glass of custard … The good fortune has come true, but the appearance is also less than TTF.Let’s say drink custard in Turpan. Due to poor language, I had to add banknotes to Xiaoba Langzi as an inquiry price, which made the market manager suspect that I was lying to the children.The deal was finally reached. As soon as the cup touched my mouth, my dear, the sour noise almost made me spit out the storage in my abdominal cavity. On that day, it was the opening of the second Turpan Grape Festival on the Silk Road in China. The crowd was crowded and everyone was watching. , I had no choice but to straighten my neck and swallow it; but I secretly made the determination to "never patronize again".The ugly appearance of eating pilaf is also "extremely unique": on that day, Korla was sunny and hot, and when the pilaf was served, the aroma hit the face, and then look at the rice grains soaked in mutton soup piled up with bright yellow diced carrots and green grapes. , I can't stand it anymore.Since it's pilaf, grab it: stretch out your five fingers, and the person who catches it will tie a knot, your hands will be burned, your lips will be burned, your mouth will be full of rice grains, and you haven't tasted the taste yet.An old Uighur customer told me that he had to use three fingers to knead the rice into small balls on the side of the plate, and then fill it into his mouth.I tried it, but it still doesn't work.Just ask for chopsticks and pick them up in your belly.Also in Korla, I sat under a tree and ate preserved apricots, which were delicious.Eating apricots naturally spit out the cores, so they threw the leftover cores one by one on the ground, causing several young boys to come and loot them.It turns out that the apricot pits here are far more delicious than the apricot meat. Most of the locals have to buy meat because of eating apricot pits! Chinese recipes are divided into several categories, which are magnificent and have a long history.But most of them are the so-called famous products of Gaoyan and Renhuatang, but there are few classic snacks for local snacks.This is probably because they belong to the "small" generation, and it is difficult for a small person to be elegant.Huh, everyone knows that it is the star-studded snacks from all over the country that form the rich and colorful life and various customs and habits of our great nation.Do you know how many places and ethnic groups use the custom of eating as the bond of ethnic communication and ethnic unity! It is said that when visiting the homes of Uighur compatriots, they always respectfully offer horse milk tea first.Drinking - is a good friend, not drinking - will almost fall out.There is also the finger meat we mentioned above, but it was not called finger meat.It is specially cooked for entertaining guests. Whenever the Uighur villagers are full of guests, they will slaughter the sheep. The guests and hosts form a group, cut the freshly slaughtered sheep into large pieces, put them into the boiling soup pot, and take out the meat as soon as it changes color. Cut the food, eat until blood oozes out, and then cook the meat in a pot until the guests are full of food and wine, oily hands and oily noodles, and then they are overjoyed.Just imagine, how harmonious and joyful it would be to gather together and eat a piece of fresh and tender lamb with a knife. Unfortunately, this kind of scene of cooking and eating while having fun is not common at banquets attended by Han people. It is more common, and instead of it, large pieces of meat are cut into small pieces and cooked thoroughly: put them on the table, and eat them with hands and chopsticks instead of knives.Therefore, the name of "hand-held meat" has also evolved into "hand-grasped meat". We look forward to being able to have a brilliant eater and a big pen to write exquisite works from all over the world: "Snack Grand View", or it will become an immortal work.I would not have bought knives in Xinjiang if my friends and children hadn’t urged me to buy knives.exist Another reason for buying knives in Xinjiang seems to be affected by the "climate". Almost all people in Xinjiang do not wear knives;In the streets and alleys, hotels, and restaurants, everyone is talking about knives, playing with knives, and not touching knives, as if men in the Qing Dynasty did not wear braids. I am terrified of knives.I stubbornly believe that knives and guns always contain horror, and it is better to keep them at a distance.However, I still haunt the knife market again and again.To be honest, those "horror" guys are really attractive. There are several knife markets in Urumqi, the largest ones being Hongshan Trading Market and Station Shopping Mall.There are several streets and alleys vertically and horizontally, with twists and turns, and there are knives on both sides of the street.Stand, movable containers the size of a square table, some placed flat, some standing obliquely, half covered by glass, half open-air row of knives, rows of colorful knife handles are dazzling, the copper scabbards are shining golden, and the leather sheaths are purple and red; It looks like a string of copper bells on the shelf, and it is dazzling like overripe peppers.Behind the stalls, standing or sitting are Uighur villagers wearing square hats and sunken eyes.The men and women crowded in this world not only have no murderous intent, but everyone seems to be admiring arts and crafts! My partner and I were swept up by this "big tide", wandering in it, pretending to be serious.In addition to being happy, not wanting to also make me feel irritable and angry-- We only contacted the owner after "watching" several transactions.In front of a Uighur stall with a big belly, I pointed to a copper sheath: a knife holding a red and green "gem" to ask the price, that black-faced, big-bellied Uyghur and Han mixed fast!" "Eighty fast, too expensive!" I shook my head. "How much did you say?" he asked again. "Eighteen yuan is about the same." I have seen people buy knives for twenty yuan, just like this one. The face of the big belly sank, and he said, "Come again next year!" That's it.Because they always use this kind of sarcastic language to dissatisfied customers.However, when we turned around, he said mixed words of Xun Han and Wei: "Damn, I'm obedient" I looked back and saw his militaristic face, almost wanting to start a "Korean War!" Those of us who can only be arty in the fight with swords and guns mostly insist on "be able to endure and be at peace" and want to "avoid war".Unexpectedly, the young man who led the way for us was a ninja who couldn't speak Uyghur, so he knew that he had scolded us, so he turned around and said, "I'll see you next year!" There are offenses and counterattacks, and the war broke out-it turns out that what the big belly said, "Come again next year", is a curse saying "I don't know if you will live or die next year", "Wu Shun" is Uighur "fart"; what the young man said to him is just a sentence Definitely "next year you'll die early" words.The battle started, first with verbal swords, and then with knives.I was terrified, there were knives like a forest here, and if they really moved, it would not be terror but a tragedy.I pulled the young man and started to retreat actively.The big belly is still pressing: "Can't afford a knife, ask What price!" He raised the copper sheath knife and said, "Eighty fast, can you afford it?" "Eighteen yuan, you dare to sell it? You sell me and buy ten!" "Sell!" The big belly became angry. "Buy!" The young man did not show weakness... This can be regarded as "no deal, no deal"! But it can be clearly seen that some people later tried to make a deal with our price, but they all failed.I heard from the old Xinjiang that such turmoil in the knife market is not common, and many individual knife owners still make money in harmony and trade fairly.Only a few are half Gobi Desert and half are mountain roads.The Gobi is always vast and barren, but the other half of the mountain road is very wonderful: roads and streams run side by side, twists and turns, rushing water all the way, circling all the way to climb the mountain; one peak is left behind, and another peak appears in front of you; just passing through There is still not a single blade of grass in the Gobi, and in a blink of an eye it becomes lush and full of shade.Some people say that the most precious thing in Xinjiang is water, but in the mountainous areas of Xinjiang, it is a different situation: the water flows all over the valleys and streams, and our car always crosses the arch bridge on the stream from time to time, leaping over the spray rolls. Between the snow waves.I walked to the stream by a small bridge where the car was parked due to congestion, and looked at the flowing water, which was clear to the bottom.At this moment, the air breathed into the lungs is actually cool and sweet.The car continued to climb until I saw the white snow on the top of Bogda Peak at an altitude of 5,445 meters, but I realized that the source of the stream was still in the middle of winter. 天池在天山博格达峰的怀抱，当我跃出车厢，站在她身旁时，我竟怀疑起自己的神志和眼睛：群山围裹，峰峦叠翠，葱绿的山腰，雪压着山头，天池象一片碧蓝的玛瑙酣睡沉沉，映松映雪映骄阳，她呈现着极致的风流1．"天池--你竟如此多娇"我贪婪地连脚步也抬不动了! 天池是美丽的，更有着美丽的传说：有人说，她是玉皇大帝过天山时，将胸前一块碧玉丢失在这里了，万年千秋，碧澄无瑕；有人说，她是西王母巡游时，忘在这里的洗脚盆，所有的神人万物都不敢弄脏那盆洗脚水；还有人说，那是人间孝子丧母时流出的痛心泪，山川日月都不忍心吮吸它......我却如痴思索：她究竟算一片什么地方似乎所有美妙的言词，都无法形容她的多姿多态。 在池畔，我沿着凸凸凹凹的石块漫步。身边，人群交织，红男绿女，欢歌伴着笑语，使这片该平静的天地，总无法平静。池面上，飞奔着几只着有妆饰的游船；山脚边两只小舟在划动；隐现在岸畔绿丛中的房舍，飘出渺渺炊烟。我激动的心情竞乱了：跳进游艇，荡舟池面吗?身在画航里，舟在水中行，自然别是一番情趣；但那幅雪峰--绿林--碧水合三而一的壮观美景，却势必失其完美；只在岸畔观山水吗?又怎么能领降那番池面荡舟的风情呢!我走进小小的码头，挤进购票的长队；然而，我又抽身从长队中出来；当我立在长队之外时，我又恫怅...... 天池畔，有一处宽大的停车场；停车场外，有一片起伏于山坡的草场；草场上有羊群，羊群中有骏马。骑上骏马兜一圈，一定会产生美妙的情趣。我和伙伴赶了去。途中，竞被几座蒙古包所诱而停步。 蒙古包，是灰白帆布裹围的园壁，灰白毡毯蒙着的幔顶，大人大约都做事去了，洞锁，只有孩子在四周嘻戏。当我们认真打量这些小巴郎子(男孩)和古斯巴郎(女孩)的时侯，却发现了新奇，他们手里竞玩着价值数百元的游艺机!我的伙伴拿出摄影机为他们拍照，一个小巴郎子挺着肚皮傻笑，另两个古斯巴郎羞怯地搂着脖子，转身躲到蒙古包的背后去了。而后，还偷偷地偏过扎着红绸的小脑袋窥视。有一个会讲汉语的男孩跟我们搭讪，问我们"要不要雪莲?"我问他"是真是假?"他狠狠地瞪了我一眼，粗声地吐一个"真"字，我笑了。搭讪的结果，知道蒙古包里的人家，生活来源也多半摆摊设点，从来游天池的顾客身上赚取。天池，给这里的人们带来幸福! 日偏西了，我才留留恋恋地登上返程车。 旅行在戈壁滩上，最令人忧愁的莫过于水。进疆的人，多半身带水壶和沉甸甸的饮料。戈壁滩乏水，因缺水而形成"地不长草，天空无飞鸟"。我出发的那一天，家人便不顾累累负担而为我备足了旅途之水。 在乌鲁木齐，水很丰富，不必担心。当我从乌鲁木齐沿着冬焰山去吐鲁番盆地时，心就悬了起来：那里，干旱、酷热都是掌世闻名的。据说，盆地中心还有一条高热带，它的绝对高温都在47℃以上，烈日下，光裸的地面烫得人不能立足；有资料表明，这里最高温度竞达82．3℃，年降雨量少得吓人，干旱风几乎长年不停......在这样的地方，水，几乎象血液一样金贵我真怕旱瘫在那里。 汽车越过达坂城，出了风口，便是无际戈壁，粼光闪闪，热浪沸沸，空气一下子升腾了许多度，我悬着心，深深地抽了一口气到吐鲁番，我便花费了相当的精力，去找这里因缺水而造成不幸的史料。然而，我惊讶了--这个有5万平方公里的盆地，水的流量每年竟达10亿立方米以上。一本叫《吐鲁番》的书上有这样一段记载：这里"储藏着丰富的山泉水和山口潜一 水，盆地外围的高山是盆地地下水的补给区，发源天山的河流一出山口进入戈壁砾石带，河水即大量渗入地下，成为盆地地下水的主要来源。"啊!这里原来不缺水水到那里去了呢?这本书告诉我们，"在火焰山以北的戈壁砾石地带，地下水埋藏深度为100--150米；随着坡降，潜水深度渐减，最是处只有20--30米，有不少地方溢出地面，形成自流泉......"我轻松地舒了一口气--我从吐鲁番市区去北郊葡萄沟那天，便在交错的葡萄架之间发现一条自北向南的河流，水宽约5米，深约2米，卷着波涛，呼啸奔腾；我几次走到水边去浸湿毛巾，水清见底，冰冷入骨。那一天，阳光下的葡萄沟，气温在50℃，若没有这一条清凉的河流，真不知该有多少游人被热憨?新疆的朋友告知，吐鲁番盆地火焰山北大凡聚居着人群的地方，都是在这样的河流边。据说，火焰山以南却没有这样的河流。 我在吐鲁番的日子，正是中国丝绸之路第二届吐鲁番葡萄节。除了拥挤来大量的外籍和内地人外，还来了相当多的本地各族群众。我怀着深深的忧虑去访问来自无河流区的盆地人。我获得了更加奇妙的"信息"-- 一个五十年代中期迁居到托克逊县的江苏老乡听了我的询问，笑了。他说："没有河流不怕，我们那里有无数的坎儿井。" "打井提水，也是解决缺水的办法。，我想起了盆地地下储藏了丰富的水源。 "你以为坎儿井还是口内那深深的圆洞洞?"他摇摇头。 "那是什么?" "是一种地下渠道工程。"他比划着说："在地下开挖引水渠道，把地下潜流逐渐引出地面。坎儿井，实际便是一条暗渠。" "水会自动向上流?"他摇摇头，作了更为形象的描述："坎儿井是盆地的产物。暗渠从戈壁的砾石层下潜水带开始挖，地表每20--30米打一口直井相连，一条坎儿、井的直井少则几十个，多则-300个，暗渠长2--3公里多至10余公里不等，潜水经暗渠中流出地面，再引入明渠，便可饮用和灌溉。" 我仿佛听懂了，但又觉仅仅是一个概念。老乡看着我仍在迷惑，颇有点焦灼地说："你亲自去看看吧，那里一眼望去，一行行整齐的直井口，如累累圆丘，又似座座坟莹；大地热气腾腾，井口凉风习习。有兴趣，还可以从井口下去，从渠中走走......"我被引诱了，盘算着去火焰山南走一遭。遗憾的是" 同抱此念的游人太多了，吐鲁番交通部门无法满足，我也只好对那里的坎儿井"概念"而已。然而，我却此念不泯，总有一天要如愿的。我也盼望着地上坎儿井兴旺，把横流在地下的潜水多引出来，改变戈壁滩的面貌。 August 1991