Spicy. Walking around the ancient city of Kashgar, I constantly bump into the smell of spices every time I turn a corner. Just like the captivating beauty of this ancient city, these smells wafting from a thousand years back to today are still potent enough to pierce through visitors with a single sip or whiff.

Kashgar is the largest city in the south of Xinjiang, an autonomous region of China. It is the junction of the northern, central, and southern routes of the ancient Silk Road, therefore representing the cultural meeting place of four ancient civilizations. It is now a modern transportation hub and the largest commodity distribution center for China to the west. The ancient city of Kashgar, the best surviving representative of the culture of the Uyghur people, is known as “the thousand-year-old living city”, a term that suggests the city resembles an old family relative. The earliest recorded accounts of this ancient city date back to more than 2,100 years ago when Zhangqian first wrote about its flourishing trade routes and cosmopolitan culture. One may feel pity considering that the past glory of the city has been eclipsed by a more homogenous, less adventurous metropolis. However, it is not only billboards and shop signs that can light up the night here. Stars shine even brighter. Without cars roaring pass the road, and people hurrying by, ancient Kashgar shines easy and still in the unchanging starlight, with the gentle soundtrack of children playing and the quiet reminisces of old people sitting on creaky chairs and benches.

Many western media outlets have accused China of “committing crimes against humanity, and possibly genocide, against the Uyghur population and other mostly-Muslim ethnic minorities” in the north-western region of Xinjiang, where Kashgar is. As the BBC have reported, “Western human rights groups believe China has detained more than one million Uyghurs, against their will, over the past few years in a large network of what the state calls “re-education camps”, and sentenced hundreds of thousands to prison terms.”

Nevertheless, it is important to note, that China denies all allegations of human rights abuses in Xinjiang, describing its system as “re-education” seeking to combat separatism and Islamist militancy in the region. What is actually happening behind this political mist? As a Chinese student, I travelled to Xinjiang last summer, hoping to understand the region firsthand, without relying on the filter of either Western or Chinese media to interfere. I knew I wouldn’t see certain parts, the re-education camps to be specific, and so my personal experiences there are only a partial view.

Following the pungent smell and turn into an alley, and we find ourselves on the trail of an entire street teeming with spice shops. Pots, jars, and sacks are filled with foreign spices and lined up alongside the road as much for noses as eyes. Uyghurs, identifiable by their traditional square hat, sit next to their spices on wooden benches, chatting silently as if they do not want to stand out in the hushed city. “There are two main categories of spices,” the shopkeeper says in a deep, raspy tone, “medical and common spices, which can be easily recognized by their shape after a closer look with an experienced eye”. Up close, all spices emit a strong fragrance that may cause one to feel slightly overwhelmed by the sensation like a too strong cup of tea.

At this specific shop of medical spices that my friend and I have stopped at, the irregular door frame leans heavily against the wall, not nearly big enough inside to house the assortments of spices on sale. Bottles crammed next to one another on the wall and bags of spices overflow to every corner of the floor, many spilling outside of the shop onto the pavement, leaving a narrow passage for me to push through. In the passage, an old man sits on a small wooden stool that appears to have simply paused while in the act of breaking apart. The old shopkeeper, also a medical practitioner, tells me that he has never been to the hospital because he drinks water with spices mixed in every day to keep healthy. Even if he is very sick, he says, the spices will cure him. After these short sentences, he continues smashing a mixture of several spices into a dark powder. Every hit into the pestle fills the air with a stronger fragrance. The ancient city proceeds slowly to the rhythmic beating.

The potent fragrance of spices has become part of the natural atmosphere of Kashgar and remained almost unchanged for thousands of years. However, other traditions have been buried by time; changes are happening to many of the current residents of Kashgar specifically and Xinjiang more generally.

There is a modern intruder keeping eyes on the peaceful city. Positioned at the corners of shops and streets, the red eyes of cameras appear menacingly in sight. Although the cameras are almost small enough to ignore in a bustling city, the sense of modern technology stands in such stark conflict with the ancient city as to be noticeable in its presence. Strolling the streets and peering in for a close-up photo of the gorgeously decorated small mosques that pervade the city, one can only see a grey concrete texture through the rotted keyholes. No guide is needed to realize that these mosques have been boarded up on the inside and only the façade remains.