A Chance Chat in the Park with a Uyghur in Southern China

Another park in another Chinese city

Not so long ago on a quiet day at a park in southern China, I saw a man with two energetic children. After saying hello to them, the man and I started talking. I soon learned he was Uyghur and from far away Xinjiang, where he still had family. Having recently read reports about deteriorating conditions for Uyghurs there, I asked about their situation.

Sounding and looking like he had felt compelled to utter the exact same words not just now but many times before, he first explained his pride in being a Chinese citizen and his support for the Chinese government. Then he returned to his gaze to me and explained how the situation in Xinjiang wasn't at all good for them. What he shared was depressingly consistent with what I had previously learned.

I thought of the conversation today while reading a piece recommended by Josh Chin:

“The phrase adem yoq (‘everybody’s gone’) is probably the one I’ve heard the most this past year.”

It’s virtually impossible for Uyghurs to talk about what’s happening in Xinjiang. That makes this account from Gene Bunin, the rare foreigner who speaks Uyghur, a vital read. https://t.co/Po8pfJsuM1

— Josh Chin (@joshchin) July 31, 2018

An excerpt from Gene Bunin's piece:

At one point last year, I made an effort to see a friend in Xinjiang who had deleted me [from WeChat] but whom I really wanted to see. Navigating our friend networks, I set up a time and a place, and we met. In retrospect, I almost wish we hadn’t. Our lunch together was an incredibly silent and awkward one – there was too much to say but everything felt taboo, and there were entire minutes when we just sat there. It didn’t look like anyone was monitoring us, but my friend looked really worried all the same. When I passed him samples of a book I was working on, he only cast them a glance but didn’t flip through the pages. When I asked him if a mutual acquaintance of ours was still around, he told me that he “didn’t know” that person anymore, before adding: “Right now, I don’t even know you.”

I too will recommend reading "How the 'Happiest Muslims in the World' are Coping with Their Happiness". And I will wonder what has happened to the man, his children, and the rest of his family since our chance discussion at the park. I didn't ask for a way to contact him in the future. That might have been better for him.