Pt 2 A Uyghur Doctor: Xinjiang Personal Portrait

If you haven't already, please read part one of this personal portrait about a Uyghur doctor.

Matt is only 10 years old right now and as the son of Mansur, a relatively wealthy Uyghur doctor in the city, he is provided for in every way. Matt is his English name, but he also has a Chinese name to go along with the Uyghur name he was given at birth.

Which Language...Uyghur or Mandarin?

Not surprisingly, Matt speaks both Uyghur and Mandarin without the trace of an accent in either. This is due to the way most Uyghur like Mansur now raise their children: they go to a Han school where all their classes are taught in Mandarin, but they speak only Uyghur in the home in order to preserve their dying culture.

Why does he do this? As Mansur explains, this is the only way to ensure that his son will have better opportunities than he did when he was growing up. “My son speaks better Mandarin than I do. Because of this, life should be easier for him.”

While it is difficult for a Uyghur to obtain a good job in any situation in Xinjiang, poor Mandarin is practically a nail in the employment coffin.

Looking for Better Opportunities

Most surprising, though, is that Mansur hopes to eventually move not only his son abroad, but also both sets of parents. Surprising, that is, because according to most analysts the Uyghur are unhappy due to their economic disparity compared to the Han Chinese. If he lives a prosperous life, why would he want his son to leave the country?

“There is no future here. I love my job, but here I have no opportunity for advancement. No future.”

Mansur may have a good job with a good paycheck, but as a Uyghur he’s hit his ceiling. Han doctors have the same paycheck but unlike Mansur they are eligible for both promotions and yearly bonuses.

Life as a Uyghur Professional

Another reason Mansur is so adamant about moving his son abroad is the difficulties he faces as a doctor in Xinjiang. Although the details of his story are specific to his profession, similar problems are faced by any Uyghur professional in China.

Take, for instance, his patients. While Mansur will treat patients from any ethnic background, the majority of them are Uyghur. Ever since the riots in July of last year many Han have refused to be treated by a Uyghur doctor. The reason for this, Mansur explains, is that there is “…no trust. Many Uyghur don’t trust the Han now, and the Han don’t trust the Uyghur”.

It’s also difficult for Uyghur professionals like Mansur because of their dietary restrictions. As a part of the Islamic religion certain rules must be followed when cooking or eating, most notably the absence of pork. Since hospital cafeterias aren’t halal (meaning they don’t offer foods permissible for Muslims to eat) Mansur usually doesn’t eat at all during his 12-14 hour shift.

If he does eat, it’s usually when a friend brings him food from a local Uyghur restaurant or from home. “I’m very, very hungry when I get home” he says.

Never Giving Up

The key to Mansur’s success, he says, is his work ethic. Not to say that most Uyghur are lazy, only that he works extra hard. He plans to use that same mentality to get his family better opportunities elsewhere.

As expected, the government has denied all his requests to move. When asked what reason the government gave for denying his request, he smiles and shrugs. “I just can’t”.

That never stopped him before, though.

A Uyghur Doctor: Xinjiang Personal Portrait Pt. 1

The stereotypical Uyghur is poor. According to many, their low economic status in China’s resource-rich province of Xinjiang is the driving force behind the region’s instability. Few Uyghur have the opportunity to leave Xinjiang and those who do can typically only find low-paying food industry employment (see: Beijing & Shanghai).

But what about those Uyghur who, against all odds, become professionals in their field, respected and reasonably paid. What do they think about China and how do they feel about Uyghur/Han relationships?

Mansur is a 39 year-old Uyghur gynecologist at a local Xinjiang hospital. He has worked there for over 7 years as one of only two minority doctors on staff and receives a paycheck of about 4,500 RMB ($640 USD) per month, a salary on par with most doctors in this particular city. He drives a shiny new Honda Civic and on this particular day we talked about his life while eating at one of the nicest restaurants in the city.

A Rich Uyghur Ancestry

Mansur’s grandparents on both sides of the family started off wealthy. While his father’s parents earned their fortune in the fields, his mother’s parents became successful traders. Both lived in a small town named Qitai (“Kunshet” in the Uyghur language), located just outside the Xinjiang capital of Urumqi.

Neither set of grandparents were very well educated nor could they speak Mandarin. At the time, such qualifications weren’t necessary to make a good living. For decades they diligently toiled and saved, unaware that everything they had worked for was about to be taken from them.

“I Can’t Say…I Just Can’t Say”

While Mansur is usually very open and frank about his life, like most Uyghur there are certain topics and periods in history that cause him to timidly smile and change the subject.

Such was the case for the robbery of both his grandparents. According to him, throughout the 1960’s they were systematically robbed of all their money and possessions. When prodded as to who did this or why, the only answer he could muster was a sideways glance, a sheepish smile and a simple, “I can’t say…I just can’t say”.

Anyone who is familiar with Chinese history will know that this was a chaotic period in China’s history. Beginning in the 1960’s and lasting well into the 1970’s, the Cultural Revolution devastated China, and as is evidenced by Mansur’s grandparents, Xinjiang’s Uyghur also suffered greatly.

Although his grandparents never recovered financially, their children eventually married and in 1971 their first son was born: Mansur.

A Uyghur’s Journey to Gainful Employment

For the first two decades of his life, Mansur studied little Mandarin. At that time few Uyghur did. In fact, before graduating from high school he had to take his exit exams in Uyghur and only then began to realize that his only option for upward mobility would be to learn the Chinese language.

So he moved and for two years he studied Mandarin in Lanzhou, capital of the neighboring Gansu province, before finally becoming proficient enough to pass exams to get him into medical school in Nanjing.

When he arrived back in Xinjiang he was fortunate to land a job at the local hospital. One of only two minority doctors, he is careful to add again. In the meantime he married and had his own son whom he introduced with the English name “Matt”.

Shifting Gears

At this point, having finished with the past, Mansur shifts to the present. While detailing the difficulties he faces as a Uyghur doctor in a Han society that is daily gaining majority, he also reveals why, despite his good income, he has every intention of moving his son out of China.

Because of the length of this article, it is being posted in two separate installments. Please look for the rest of Mansur’s story tomorrow.

Other Xinjiang Interviews:
      An Oil Worker: Xinjiang Personal Portraits
      An English Teacher: Xinjiang Personal Portraits

Xinjiang Personal Portraits: An Oil Worker

"You can just sit down on the floor" Sam said to me, pointing to the mass-market carpet that took up almost the entire living room.  We had just finished dinner and I had been wandering around this humble 5th floor apartment enjoying the cool breeze gently pushing through the windows.  Two bedrooms, an office, a bathroom the size of a coat closet, a kitchen and a living room made up the small but cozy space that Sam and his wife had called home for the past 4 years.

Were it not for the numerous apartment buildings of monotonous concrete design that surrounded Sam's home we might have been able to look out the window and enjoy the sun shining its final rays over the flat desert to the southeast.  It is in this very desert, dotted with oil rigs as far as the eye can see, that wealth has been created to sustain over 60% of Xinjiang's economy.  Sam is just one of many workers who earn their living by helping to feed the world's insatiable appetite for the black river that flows beneath them.

"I don't usually work on the oil field" he explained to me.  "My department services the equipment used to drill wells in the oil field.  I go out into the field occasionally to work on a rig that needs repair, but most of the time I stay at our company headquarters."

While an office job might seem like an ideal position to hold here in Xinjiang, I was surprised to learn how Sam and his co-workers had been affected by the global financial crisis.  "When the price of oil drops, my salary drops with it" he said.  "Because my salary is heavily dependent on bonuses and the price of oil, over the past two years it has fluctuated from as high as 2,800 RMB (US$400) down to as low as 800 RMB (US$115) per month." He never knows how much he makes each month until the paycheck clears his bank account.

He went on to explain that in order to ensure balance and stability in Xinjiang, the government has prohibited the oil companies from making any layoffs.  To compensate for this regulation, every employee has taken a cut in pay and some have even been required to take several days "unpaid-vacation" every month.  Over the past year the ownership of Sam's company has changed hands and he has even been moved to a different department, but not once was he afraid of losing his job.

"I'm actually in an awkward position right now" he whispered to me, as if divulging a dark secret.  "I think I have a chance of getting promoted this year after winning that award and gaining favor with my bosses."  The award he was referring to is an honor he was given for his high marks in the company's recent employee evaluations.  I wasn't quite sure how such good news could be awkward, but he was quick to explain:

"I would love a promotion, but I can't stand 白酒 (baijiu)!" he told me with a smile. Baijiu, also known as "white lightning" or "jet fuel", is a popular liquor in China containing between 40-60% alcohol, a drink commonly found drifting around the banquet table.  In order for Sam to be accepted as a company leader he would be required by social protocol to drink copious amounts of this liquid on a nightly basis.

"Back in my hometown my dad earns extra money distilling a rice-based baijiu and I never like drinking it with him.  If I don't drink with my bosses, though, I have no chance of getting promoted."  As an example Sam told me about a friend of his who has been the vice-president of one of the company divisions for over 20 years. "The division leadership position has changed multiple times in that 20 years, but he was never considered for the job because he can't hold down his liquor."

Sam has lived most of his life in Xinjiang, but he has dreams of moving back to the south.  While he invests a bit in the crazy market, his dream is to eventually buy a house in a south-central province in China.  "I'd love to finally move out of the oil business and live in a place where the weather isn't so extreme."

Considering that the Xinjiang-Guangzhou oil pipeline should begin pumping in 2011, maybe he could just move down to Guangzhou and find more work in the oil industry.  Of course, as I soak in the beauty and simplicity of his current surroundings, I can't imagine why he'd want to leave.

Xinjiang Personal Portraits: An English Teacher

I'm kicking off a new interview series today that I hope will be both entertaining and different.  I'm not going to be interviewing any famous people or even any Chinese bloggers, rather I've been posing questions to common people around Xinjiang that I'll be posting every week or two.  This isn't my attempt to break into journalism or anything like that, don't worry.  To be honest I'm doing this more for myself, an excuse to ask people questions that normally might seem obtrusive.  How much money do you make? Why did your family first come here to Xinjiang?  What's your take on the whole Han Chinese/Uyghur situation?  What would you tell anybody who was thinking about coming to Xinjiang? If any of that interests you like it does me, read on.

To start off, I decided to pick a profession that most anybody within or outside of China is familiar with: teaching English.  I sat down and asked my good friend Heidi a few questions that I had been dying to know for the past few years, and I was impressed by her honesty.  Hope you can enjoy, and if there are any other questions you think I should have asked, drop a note in the comments.

 
Thanks, Heidi!

First off, why don't you just say what you do for a living.

I am an English teacher. I have been teaching for six years at an elementary school in Karamay in Xinjiang, China.

How much are you paid per month?

I am paid about 1,600 RMB (US$235) per month after pension, unemployment, and medical insurance is taken out. We're actually supposed to receive a [housing stipend].  The school promised this when we first signed our contracts, but we are still waiting...

 
So then how much are you able to save per month?

Well, I am a mother of a one-year boy and my husband works at an oil company as an engineer who gets about 2,000 RMB (US$293) per month . We usually save 1,000 RMB (US$146) for my [son's education] and 500-800 RMB (US$70-$120) for emergencies. We have to pay the Nanny who takes care of my son while we are not at home. You might think we spend a lot and we do because sometimes we need pay for some nice dinners for our friends or colleagues to keep a good relation with each other.

 
Is being an English teacher what you always wanted to do?

I am very proud to be an English teacher because I have been dreaming that one day I could speak very good English and teach my students to learn more about western cultures.

 

Does it bother you (or did it bother you) that younger, inexperienced foreign teachers make twice or three times as much money as you do?

Well, it does because we spend more time at school and have more responsibility for kids and experience in teaching. However, there are some foreign teachers who are worthy to get such amount of money, including three teachers I worked with before. They were very happy to be a teacher and was beloved by everyone and made every day new for kids and put a lots of efforts for school, it seems they felt the school was their second home.

 
When did your family first come to Xinjiang?
My family first came to Xinjang in 1969 and they all came from Sichuan province.
 
Why did they move from Sichuan?

My father used to be in the Army when he was 17 and was supposed to get a good stable job in Sichuan after being a soldier for three year in YunNan.  He was late one year to get home, so he lost his job. My father was very ambitious to make his own career; he saw an advertisement that said it was much easier to make money in Xinjiang. Then he moved to my hometown of Tachen in Xinjiang which he found was even poorer than his home in Sichuan, but he refused to regret his decision. He met my mother when he first went back to his hometown from Xinjiang three years later.

 
If you could, would you rather live in Xinjiang or in another part of China?

For me , I rather live in a middle city like Karamay because it is clean and cozy plus it is more convenient to visit our parents often (*Note: Tachen, her hometown, is only 4-5 hours from Karamay*).

 

As a Han Chinese, what do you think about the relationship between Han people and Uyghur people?

Well, it is very hard to answer this because what our citizen think the relationship between Han people and Uyghur people will hopefully be harmonious forever, but on political side they always have different ideas on issues. Wish they could work it out.

 
Ok, but what about you?  Do you have Uyghur friends?

Tell you the truth that I had a lots when I was young for we lived in a same village, My younger sister learned Uyghur language as an exchanging student, but I have few now because the place I live and work is separated, we have no chance to make any Uyghur friends.

 

If somebody asked you why they should come to Xinjiang, what would you tell them?

First of all, the nature and beauty in Xinjiang is something you can't get in other parts of China. To be honest, though, if you just want to make money, Xinjiang is not the place you should come, but the nature and experience is worthy for visiting and living here.