A picture of tree planting sheds light on a mysterious place

Recently I came across a report titled "The Beishawo Post: Sowing Seeds of Hope on the Fringe of Desert" (October 18, China Youth Daily).

It features an outpost of Regiment 186, Agricultural Division 10 of Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps, manned by a couple, Fu Yongqiang and his wife Liu Guizhi, both 50, since 2012.

The story resonates with me, for I was born and brought up in 186, a regiment in the northernmost tip in Altay in Xinjiang, on the border with Kazakhstan.

Although I had lived in this backwater region for 17 years, I had never been to Beishawo, a name that still sounds menacing to me.

I once slipped into a concrete-paved waterway, and was swept along by the momentum of the water, unable to stand up. Since struggle proved futile, I became somewhat resigned to the ride, which was made very smooth by the mossy growth on the concrete floor.

As it was getting dark, I had given up any hope for life, when I was intercepted by a sturdy tree limb thrown by a farm worker, and was saved.

My parents, congratulating me on my good fortune, kept saying: "If it had not been for the kind-hearted worker, you might have ended up in Beishawo." I never had any chance to be there.

Thus the picture of the Fu couple planting trees in this mysterious place on the fringe of Regiment 186 afforded me first glimpse into this mysterious place. Probably thanks to their improvement, the area does not appear to be so desolate and dreary as I had imagined.

Through some friends, I managed to get more information about the Fu family from the local publicity department.

Fu first went to 186 as a construction worker in 1999 from his hometown in Jixian, Kaifeng, in Henan Province.

In 2004 the couple were recruited as formal workers.

When the couple first went to the Beishawo lookout post, the environs presented a desolate aspect, without water and power supplies, and barren of trees and grass. Its vicinity to a desert, aided by persistent wind, would often leave a layer of sand 30 to 50 centimeters deep around the post overnight. Thus the first thing Fu did in the morning was clean up the sand. Then he would hoist the national flag, and set out on a border patrol.

Far from any other inhabitants, Liu would often perch by the window, looking for any signs of human beings, or motor vehicles. I was reminded of my own childhood, when I was locked up for the day at home by my working parents, and would literally perch on a windowsill to look out for any signs of activity.

They have a son, Fu Wanli, and a daughter, Fu Bingyu. When the daughter went to a school far away, she had to be entrusted to a relative's home.

It was not safe to leave the daughter alone at home when they were on patrol, for there were wolves prowling around.

During the long winter, heavy snow would close road traffic for five months, but the couple would continue the patrol, sometimes in the company of the daughter.

"At the beginning I was curious, but soon the scene waxed monotonous, for there was nothing but trees and desert," the daughter reminisced. "The snow scene in winter was an expanse of whiteness that would, in time, create a dizzying sensation. Frost began to form around the eyes and the hair."

When the son graduated from college in 2014, he opted to work at the regiment 186 farm.

During Spring Festival in 2015, Fu was patrolling on a horse when a hare suddenly erupted from the snow. The frightened horse reared, throwing the rider, and Fu was dragged, with one foot still in a stirrup, for over 50 meters. Fortunately, he was protected by his heavy coat, and resumed routine patrol after only three days.

On another occasion, the couple lost their way in a heavy snowstorm. There was no mobile phone signal and they managed to take refuge in a makeshift shelter, sustained by half a nan bread and snow-water. They were saved by passing herdsmen on the third day.

To improve the local environment, the regiment authority has mobilized local people to help plant trees. The first two poplar saplings planted by Fu have already grown to towering heights.

In planting here, water is crucial. Since rain is rare, the trees have to be watered regularly. To save water, the trees are watered by drip irrigation, a method requiring constant redeployment of water pipes. Often Fu and his son have to get up at night for this purpose.

Fu learned, at no small cost, that it would take three years for grass to really take root under the trees.

"Due to lack of experience, in the past, the freshly grown grass seeds would easily be blown away by the wind. So we learned to cover the newly planted grass first in a protective net, which would be removed later on after the germination," Fu said.

The over 30,000 trees in an space of 20 hectares under Fu's watch have effectively prevented the encroachment of the desert in the post.

In addition to trees, Fu also keeps a greenhouse for vegetables, and 50 cattle. "Border patrol is hard work, but if you could earn extra from some sidelines, more people will join in the endeavor," Fu said.

After graduating from college, Fu's daughter went to work in Qinghe County, in Altay Prefecture, about 400 kilometers from the lookout post.