Taming the desert: How women in Xinjiang are overcoming adversity through sport

by sportswriters Cao Yibo, Hu Huhu and Sun Zhe

URUMQI, April 27 (Xinhua) -- Living on the edge of the Taklamakan Desert - the world's second-largest shifting-sand wilderness - presents daily challenges, from extreme temperatures to relentless sandstorms.

For those born and raised in this region, sports used to be a luxury, especially for women.

Now things are changing. When the 29th Farmers' and Herders' Gameswas hosted in Xinjiang's Yutian County, a small oasis on the desert's southern rim in April, local athletes competed alongside the desert they are taming. Among them, a group of local Uygur women farmers stood out. Through their fierce competition and unwavering camaraderie, these women athletes brought to life stories of courage, perseverance and solidarity -- the essence of 'her power' in this pitiless landscape.

SHE'S A STILT RACER

Roxangul Mettursun, 38, hails from a village in Yutian County -- one of the tiny green oases that make up less than six percent of the land, surrounded by the shifting sands.

From her school days, Roxangul threw herself into basketball, volleyball, and above all, stilt-racing, which remains her favorite sport. "Sport has been a light, shining on life at the desert's edge," she told Xinhua. "It helps my body stay strong and eases pressures."

However, sports in this region follow their own rules: whenever a sandstorm blocks the sun and sky, outdoor games are forced to a halt. For centuries, the desert has relentlessly encroached, its dunes inching southward. In response, locals have planted trees and shrubs to serve as natural barriers.

Roxangul is one of thousands of people working on the front line of sand-blocking efforts, not only to protect their homes but to reclaim the freedom to run and compete, just as people elsewhere do.

Roxangul and her team tend to five acres of anti-sand fields, where heavy machinery helps anchor the soil, while others wield shovels to plant saplings. They weave red-twig willow roots into the soil to trap drifting sand, while desert roses bloom between rows of drip irrigation.

"I want our land to flourish," she said, "so our children can grow up with room to play and dream."

On November 28, 2024, Roxangul and her fellow workers celebrated a significant milestone: the Taklamakan Desert, known as the "Sea of Death," has been completely encircled with a sand-blocking green belt stretching 3,046 kilometers.

Over the last 30 years, Xinjiang's man-made oases have grown from 65,000 to 100,000 square kilometers, marking a 54 percent increase, while Yutian's sandstorm days have decreased from 179 to 120.

As the land has become greener, more of Roxangul's neighbors are going outdoors to enjoy sports, with volleyballs and football nets now hanging outside roadside stalls. Back on the track, Roxangul switched from defender of the soil to fierce competitor. Her daughter, cheering and running alongside, proudly watched her mother win both the 100-meter and 200-meter stilt-racing titles at the county games.

"I've been playing two games," she reflected. "One is on the field where we tame the desert, the other is the track where we sweat and fly."

"Just like the willows that stand tall against the wind, we run and we laugh - that's what life should be."

SHE'S A SWING PLAYER

Tursungul Awula, 29, has learned to soar -- literally and figuratively.

At the county games, Tursungul competed in the women-only swing event, in which athletes leap from platforms nearly two meters above the ground and swing toward a set of bells perched four to five meters high. In this sport of courage, balance and precision, Tursungul kicked the bells mid-air multiple times to win this year's championship.

A few years ago, she would not have dared to try. "Me? On a swing? I'd have been a laughing stock," she recalled.

Growing up, sports were seen as "boys' territory" in her remote town, and village women were accustomed to lives focused on housework and childcare. Though Tursungul secretly pictured herself playing football with the boys, she would still stand as far from the court as possible when watching. But things have changed.

Across Yutian's villages, more and more women are stepping onto playing fields, thanks to the growing support for inclusive sports. Local communities now organize volleyball, tug-of-war, and other recreational games that encourage participation from everyone, especially women.

Tursungul took her first step in a village tug-of-war match. Nervous and sweating, she took her position at the rope and pulled with all her might.

"On the field, I realized I could do more than I thought." Victory sparked something inside her.

Now a confident competitor and active village member, she helps with farm work, raises two children with her husband, and still makes time to train.

Tursungul's story reflects a broader shift: from "being asked to play" to "volunteering to compete." Rural women across southern Xinjiang are embracing sport as a path to strength, community and self-worth.

Their confidence is contagious. In schools, girls are forming volleyball, football and table tennis teams. A local sports teacher noted, "It used to be girls watching boys play, now the boys cheer for the girls."

"Every time I fly through the air and hear the crowd cheer, I feel something powerful," Tursungul said. "I know I can fly higher and go farther."

THEY ARE MAIRE BALLERS

In the past, Aygul Metohti never imagined playing sports with her friends in Darya Boyi, a village embedded in the heart of the Taklamakan Desert. Villagers had no all-weather roads, reliable electricity or mobile signal at Darya Boyi's old site. Visiting a neighbor often meant walking more than 10 kilometers across dunes and sparse woodland.

In 2019, as part of China's targeted poverty alleviation relocation program, 1,300 pastoral households were moved from isolated homesteads deep in the poplar groves and drifting sands to a new settlement 91 kilometers from the center of Yutian -- now linked by a newly paved desert highway.

Today, neat rows of brick-and-plaster homes stand beneath young poplars and tenacious red-twig willows, each wired for electricity, natural gas, and internet access, while a new clinic and primary school serve the entire township. Across from the school's playground, Aygul, 39, leads Darya Boyi's first all-women Maire Ball team in their final training session before the games.

Maire Ball, also known as Uygur hockey, is an ancient field hockey-style game played with simple curved wooden sticks and makeshift bottle goals. In 2021, it was officially recognized as an intangible cultural heritage by the Chinese government, acknowledging its deep roots in southern Xinjiang's Hotan Prefecture.

With homes now just a shout away, neighbors gather at dusk on the playground. One call from Aygul at her gate, and teammates hurry down the road, sticks in hand, to practice.

Three years ago, the newly formed squad stunned the county by winning bronze in the women's Maire Ball competition at the 26th edition County Games.

Beyond medals, the sport has forged fresh bonds. After matches, players share farm chores, ride into town together, and exchange new jerseys and nail polishers bought online. Inspired by Aygul's team, younger women in Darya Boyi now ask how they can play the sport.

"On the field, we move as one; off it, we are sisters" Aygul said. "Only through unity can life here grow richer." In a place once defined by isolation, moving closer has brought people further, fostering communication, solidarity, and new opportunities amid the shifting sands. Enditem