Every Chinese New Year, there are always a few days when I can't sleep. On days when people are free and at ease, small fragments of memory will fly up, and if you grab a piece casually, it will be a memory that seems like yesterday.
When it comes to saying that I am from Xinjiang, I always feel a little unsure. When I was 18 years old, I only went to Urumqi once and Ili once. I know only a handful of ethnic minority people (not even friends). I'm really sorry that my mainland friends are most concerned about riding a camel to school. I've only ridden a camel once in a tourist attraction. And I was really born in Xinjiang and grew up in Xinjiang for 18 years. The place where I grew up may not be related to most of the Xinjiang keywords you think of, but it is indeed the most unique existence in Xinjiang - the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps.
Hey, don't be too busy using your imagination, because I'm sure she's thinking the same thing as you!