My experience in Yining was not so dramatic. In fact parts of it were fairly boring. Once off the bus in Yining, Colin and I took a taxi to his parents apartment. The first impression I had of Yining was dense fog and icy breezes. Yet, watching Colin greet his mother and father after months of separation was warming to the soul. Colin is the youngest of two. His brother Lin is four years older and works with his parents at their restaurant in Hohot. It's a barbeque joint called The Little Sheep. The family decided to open the restaurant in Hohot because they could not make a living working in Yining. Hohot is a days bus ride to Urumqi and a days train ride to Hohot. Yining is nestled in the mountains accessible by plane bus or car. There is talk about putting in a train station in Yining which would be great. I find the bus ride dicey at best. Every year the family closes up the restaurant in late December and travels to Yining for the holidays. Colins mother, Gou Li was born and raised in Yining. Her family is Xibo. Xibo settled in the area about three hundred years ago from Northeast China. They were sent to the west to protect the border. Colin father is Han Chinese. Colin grew up in Yining and went to school in Yining and all of Colins family on both sides resides in Yining. So Colins home coming was met with great joy. Yet bringing a foreigner home didn't quite go over the way Colin and I had expected. Colin's entire family was incredibly kind, generous and opened their arms of friendship to me in ways I will cherish forever. However on the flip side to all this were the police and their constant harassment of Colin and myself during my stay. Everyday, the police amped up their presence to the point where it became clear to me that the longer I stayed the riskier things would get. The first day there, Lin drove me around to the police station where I was to register as a foreigner. The police station is located in the middle of the Urgher section of town. It is the Chinese way of saying we are here so deal with it. Psychologically the Chinese are very skilled at being able to place fear into the hearts and minds of anyone they want, that includes even their own people. When they torture someone it is always done in a way that lets others know this is your fate if we feel like it. The point being you do not want the police or the secret service interested in your life. Especially if it is in a politically sensitive place like Yining. So we wanted to play by the rules and keep a low profile. We go to the police station and try to register but the woman behind the desk said when we register at the hotel they will get the information. We went to several hotels that morining with no luck. No one would give a room to a foreigner. We asked around and finally went back to the apartment to try a different strategy. In the meantime, Colins aunt, Gou Li's sister works for the transportation department knew the manager of the only hotel willing to serve foreigners. She secured a great deal for me and while Lin and I were at the apartment, Colin's mother came back from shopping to take me to the hotel. The hotel was aptly named the Friendly Hotel. Foreigners from everywhere stayed there. It was also a very popular spot for the Chinese military. During my stay I met Russians, Kazhaks, and Arabs. I was the only westerner staying at the hotel. Though I must admit that traveling to Xinjiang Provence in the middle of winter is not high season for tourists.
Keeping a low profile in Yining was not an easy task. The moment the girl at the desk found out I was American, word spread around the hotel like fire up a hill. Within a few minutes, everyone knew who I was. When ever I came downstairs to eat or wait for Colin, eyes would follow me. Everyone stared. The security guards watched me from the stairwell to the front door. They never took their eyes off of me. No one ever said hello and when I looked back at someone looking at me they would look away. My first night at the Friendly Hotel was one of relief, exaustion and trepidation.