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沿沙漠石油公路疾驰四小时，便从轮台抵达塔中。时近黄昏，塔中宛如一只孤独的舰艇，碇泊在塔克拉玛干大沙漠的腹地，让人惊异于它的浪漫的存在。
所谓“塔中”，乃是塔里木石油局中部指挥所的简称，石油人喜欢叫它塔中市，说它是全中国最最小的一个市，方圆1平方公里都不到。老远就望见两支并排高举的天然气火炬在燃烧，据说，它们以每秒烧掉一张百元钞票的速度烧了好多年了。下了车向火炬走去，在这万古岑寂的沙海窝里，头顶是高旷无极的蓝天，双炬像从外星球飘来的两团火球，悬空浮摇，忽左忽右，使人恍然进入了充满魔幻气的天国。只有正中一杆国旗，才把人拉回现实。快沉下去的太阳，硕大而圆，鲜红欲滴血，周遭沙海茫茫，夕照勾出轮廓，或如无边的波涛涌来，或如侧卧的女人曲线起伏，沙纹变幻出五颜六色的光晕，委实迷离幻魅。
奇怪的是，热而无汗，浑身干爽，好像根本用不着洗澡。在车厢式的工区食堂吃自助餐，虽然简单，色味颇佳。住进对面的塔中宾馆，其设备之全竟不亚于内地的一般宾馆。我甚至看见一二姑娘的花裙子从眼底飘过。刹那间，那些有关沙漠的种种诡异恐怖的说法，全没了踪影。斜倚在火炬的反光闪动的窗台，我忍不住对石油作家王世伟说：“这里并不怎么艰苦嘛。”世伟用大眼睛异样地瞅了我一会儿，似有深意地说：“明天你就知道了。”
第二天的安排是乘沙漠车，为的是让我们“体验体验”。我早就注意到路边蹲伏着一群庞然大物，方鼻子后缩，长身子耸起，轮子大到至少有2米多高，模样像吓人的巨兽，细看又觉憨态可掬。这肯定是赫赫有名的沙漠车了。据说它能在无路的沙幔中行走，是沙漠石油钻探的开路先锋。准备让我们乘坐的两辆是小型的，叫尤迪摩克，后轮却也有一人多高，属奔驰公司产品，有“沙漠小卧车”之称。
上车时，我们作家团的团长陈昌本，一手拿采访本，一手扳住扶手，一个腾跃就上去了。他拒不坐较为安全的后排，显得很矫健。自进入塔里木油田以来，他几乎夜夜安排我们采访，困得人直打盹，又不便走开，只好忍着。他倒好像有使不完的精力，记录起来没完。作家张平自恃年轻力壮，非要坐前排，一副当仁不让的样子。我们这辆车的人则由《石油报》的老李带头，比较听话，让坐哪儿就坐哪儿。
坐沙漠车有种骑骆驼似的居高感。开头还好，微醺似地颠簸着，让人想起小时候骑毛驴的晃悠，颇为潇洒。大家均嫌坡不够陡，要求再生猛些。待进入真正的沙海，发觉情况不妙了，远看平缓的沙丘，置身其中才知陡峻得很，斜射的朝阳拉出长影子，好像掉进了群山万壑的迷阵。只见前面的车，或作壁虎爬升状，或作猛虎下山状；我们这辆，则反复做“托马斯旋转”。遇到高坎，须怒吼好多声才能攀上；遇到深谷，则如瀑布入涧，叫人两眼发黑。大家全傻眼了，谁还敢出声，心儿狂跳，攥横梁的手满把出汗。乘石景山游乐园的过山车怕也没这么紧张。不幸终于发生：前面的车在一次俯冲时栽进沙窝不能动了，我们这辆也陷进流沙，呜呜地干嚎着。我跳下车不由分说立即用双手猛刨轮下的沙子，惹得大伙全笑了，陈新增适时地为我抢拍下这一历史性镜头。此时才知，前面的车中，昌本的头磕了一个大包，张平膝盖碰破，血流如注。我们赶忙去慰问，经紧急处理，血止住了，不知从哪儿弄来大宗卫生纸，把张平的腿包了个严实。他们那辆车真是抛锚了，须等待总部的大型车来拖，负责陪同的工长含笑道歉，说两个司机都是新手；转过脸却狠狠剜了小司机一眼。小司机顽皮地吐了吐舌头，说这下可得写检讨了。
驻足沙原等候援救。此时顿觉，周身似有几十个火炉烘烤着，脸上似有几十条火舌狂舔着，人一张口就有一团团火往肺里钻，太阳如惨白火盆悬在头顶，好像上帝徐徐放出的白焰，得意于他烹调的烧烤。有人惊呼塑料鞋底变形了，有人仰脖子痛饮矿泉水，有人捂着脸下蹲。至此我始信，白昼地表温度70℃多能煮熟鸡蛋的话。我原先想，流沙不是蛮温顺的吗？只要有足够的脚力，徒步穿越未必不可能，现在看来近乎说昏话。《石油报》的路小路见多识广，他说，也不是绝对不可能，有个逃犯，逃时抱了个西瓜，白天躲在沙坡背阴的坑里保存水分，夜里靠北斗星辨认方向赶路，渴了就啃口西瓜皮，熬了六七天，真给他小子跑成了。不过，到头还是给抓了回来。但他的斗沙经验对我们很有用。也不知这是他胡编的，还是真事。
这次进新疆，我随身带了斯文·赫定的《亚洲腹地八年探险》和斯坦因的《沙埋和阗废墟记》，有空就读几页。怎么评价他们的功过呢，单看他们的冒险精神、吃苦精神，你没法不佩服。不过，他们那时进塔克拉玛干，主要靠当地的骆驼队。想想骆驼，也着实伟大，不负“戈壁之舟”的美称，倘若世无骆驼，人类面对广袤无垠的沙漠，就只能发苦海无舟之叹。丝路文明作为人类伟大的文化奇迹，少了骆驼的参与恐怕不能成立。记得大画家吴作人20世纪40年代到西部，首先相中了画骆驼，他是被骆驼在困境中的韧性震撼了，他画熊猫之类那是后来的事。现在好了，现代化的“戈壁之舟”沙漠车出现了，且不断换代，比之骆驼，不知先进了多少，实为科技文明征服沙漠的一大贡献。看啊，飞机在蓝天翱翔，潜艇在海底游弋，沙漠车在沙原奔驰，科学技术真也威力无边，物质文明的成就多么值得自豪。
乘沙漠车后的当夜，我做了一个梦，梦见我开着沙漠车，有点像乘坐“探路者”号在火星上行走，又像乘“阿波罗”号登上月球，因失去了地心引力，我漂浮着，晃荡着，惬意极了。转眼车速变得极快，神秘浩瀚的“死亡之海”，在我的胯下服服帖帖地掠过，我一会儿发现了比尼雅古城大得多的无名古城遗址，一会儿找到了比克孜尔千佛洞更加瑰丽的无名万佛洞。可是突然，我和沙漠车被一巨大黑洞吸了进去，我觉得自己在急速地坠落，坠落，向黑暗幽邃的地心栽下去……惊醒时我大汗淋漓，一定大声呼救来着。
梦境终究是梦境，但地心的吸力似乎含有某种神秘的暗示，接下来我在油田耳濡目染的事实，不断把生活中严酷的一面展露出来，逼我思索诸如人的作用、灵魂的净化、科技与人的关系之类的问题。我在这里绝非矫情地故作高深，对过去那种鄙薄科学技术，空喊人的因素第一的高调，我大不以为然，但在更深刻的意义上，我却在想，究竟是谁在征服沙漠，是沙漠车还是驾驶沙漠车的人？究竟人是车的附庸，抑或车是人的仆役？即使全面进入了信息时代，人的智能达于巅峰，脏活累活全交给机器人干去了，人之为人的高贵，是否仍在于他并没有失却宝贵的道德激情、宽广的仁爱胸怀和坚忍不拔的毅力？ 一位中年司机对我说，在没有路的沙窝里运器材，一天能走几十公里就算快的，那时从轮台到塔中，要走一个多月呢，哪像现在有了沙漠公路，一踩油门，呜地就到了。在沙海里开车经常会遇上沙暴，天地失色，状如黑絮，能见度不到1米，沙粒把鼻眼全塞严了，气都喘不上来；渗进眼窝鼻孔的沙，一个月也洗不干净。噢，怪不得我在沿途的油田招待所发现，洗脸池边总备有大量棉球，不知何用，敢情是给石油工人清理鼻孔、眼圈用的。我还注意到，沙漠车里放有不少卫生纸和空纸箱之类，甚感奇怪。问这位司机，他一个劲地笑，就是不说。问急了才说，在沙地开车最难熬的是酷热，最热时，空调根本不起作用，驾驶楼都快烤红了，座位烫得沾不得，只好蹲着操作，有时干脆赤身裸体——沙漠缺水，被汗浸透的衣服到哪去洗啊。可人身上有的部位出汗特别多，时间长了会溃烂，这就需要双腿夹着卫生纸了，用量还不小。但屁股还是烂，烂了只好用土法恶治，就是曝晒，有时他们会一齐冲着太阳晒屁股，反正沙漠里没人。他还说，装矿泉水的空纸箱不能丢，沙漠里蚊子很毒，大便时把纸箱掏个洞坐进去，可以防蚊；就是矿泉水的空瓶子也别乱扔，沙漠中容易迷路，用空瓶子装了尿给后面的人做路标，风还吹不动哩。听了这些，我先是哈哈大笑，笑出了泪，过后却是说不出的沉重。我想象着，那是怎样的滑稽而又悲壮，野性而又豪放，令人发笑又令人感伤啊！它肮脏吗？粗鄙吗？不，一点也不，我看到的恰恰是洁净。
是的，我很愿意用“洁净”这个词。沙漠多么荒远，沙子何其粗砺，但在某种意义上，它们又是最干净的，最能澡雪精神，恢复自然人式的纯真感。记得那次乘沙漠车回来，一只苍蝇不知从哪儿钻了出来，我们连连扑打。一直沉默的司机忽然说，别打了，就让它免费坐一段空调车吧，它能在这儿冒出来还真不容易呢，没准跟我们有缘分。车到塔中，司机似有意又似无意地边说话边拉开车窗，待苍蝇出去了，他才慢慢地合上窗户。我注意到了这个细节，我觉得别人也注意到了这个细节，一时间车厢里静极了，大家好像全忘了下车。
沙暴、酷热、焦渴固然难熬，更严重的是还会遇到生命危险。听说发生过这么一件事：一位师傅和他的徒弟碰上沙暴，大半个车身被埋，怎么也开不动，他们明知道飞机和救援者难以发现他们，可还是等待着。沙暴停了，水喝光了，东西也吃光了，每个白天都没有任何消息，于是他们盼着夜的来临。到时他们就一件件地脱下衣服，拧成火把，蘸上柴油点燃，高挑着，摇晃着，希望被发现，但等来的总是失望。徒弟奄奄一息了，挖开沙把脸埋进去，僵仆着；师傅只有冒险出走，连爬带滚地摸索，终于在摸到沙漠飞机场的钢铁轨道时昏厥了。第二天早晨，有人看见轨道上趴着个什么动物，怪怪的，走近才发现是人。那个徒弟后来也找到了，苏醒后，他一口气喝下七瓶矿泉水。我还听说，一个脱险后回库尔勒休假的青年司机，姓肖，约好与女友在孔雀河畔会面，当他一眼看到女友身后清冽冽的河水时，竟不顾一切地一个猛子扎下去，再也没能上来。有人说，这是出现了幻觉所致，也有人说，他的精神错乱了。
这年轻生命的夭折，使我想了很久。我倒宁可认为，有了水才有了生命，生命的第一需要是水。他太想亲近水了，以至于对水的渴望超过了对异性的渴望。这是怎样令人震惊的悲剧啊。我想起一位姓顾的钻井队长十分坦率的话，他说：“你们到这里来，也就是看看，假如有个人什么也不要他干，能在这里呆够两个月，就是了不起的人了。我们每天干活十几个小时，然后回车厢式的排子房睡觉，单身男人全住在一起，天天说，也没什么话可说的。这里本不会有女人，近年因增加了服务设施，才有了一点，但谈恋爱的有，乱来的没有，谁乱来就把自己搞臭了。这里人的道德观念就是如此，你们听了也许觉得好笑。有人说我们待遇高，其实也不，除了工资没有别的来源，要有就是放弃探亲假把钱加上去，有家里太穷的已好几年没回过家了。所以，在这里呆久了会有‘三躁’：枯燥、急躁、烦躁，脾气再好的人也难逃这‘三躁’。”他最后重重地说：“我厌烦沙黄色！”
我想，在这个世界上，有的人在找油，绝大多数人在用油。我知道煤是古森林经海陆变迁形成的，那石油呢？我猜想它可能是古动物——软体动物、鱼类、两栖类，以至爬行类如恐龙的肌体层层淤积衍化的，不然就不会那么加倍的炽烈。石油如血液般珍贵，现代文明社会须臾离不开它，海湾密布的战云里，不就有一股浓浓的油腥味吗？石油这东西也怪，可能它知道自己身价颇高，就总是藏匿在人迹罕至的地方，深隐在荒原、海洋、沙漠的幽邃的底层。这就增加了开采的难度，也注定了石油开采者生存境遇的悲壮。一个人生而为石油工人，须比常人承受更多苦难：他总是远离人群，不停地到没有人没有路，也没有起码物质条件的地方去，同时，他还要舍弃享乐，而所弃的正是普通人最看重的东西，比如家园、性爱、天伦之乐、繁华胜景、人间烟火之类。于是，他的宿命就像塔中的那两簇火炬，日夜不息地燃烧，直到烧尽为止。每念及此，我便感慨万端。
春节期间的一个晚上，我路过一家歌舞厅，里面传出了歌声，那歌词是：“风沙吹老了岁月，吹不老我的思念，曾经多少个今夜，梦回秦关……”也许因为歌者的嗓音沙哑而苍凉，我猛然想起了塔里木油田，想起了我采访过的沙漠车司机和钻井工人们，我固执地认为，这歌像是他们在唱，唱的是他们的心情。本来，回北京后，塔里木已变得非常遥远，我甚至感应不到它的一点回声了，可是此刻，我这都市的漂泊者似乎与沙漠漂泊者的心又交融到一起了。我知道，倘若没有石油，城市会彻底瘫痪，我们会变成城里的沙漠人，然而，石油人献给我们的难道仅仅是石油吗？沙漠是冷寂的，但它的下面有火焰；都市是热狂的，但它未必不会使人变得像货币般冷硬。地球的沙化令人不安，灵魂的沙化更让人忧思。这么想着，我被一种广大无边的杞天之忧所笼罩，怔怔地立在街头，泪水竟悄悄地爬上了眼睑。
Zooming on oil-transporting highway four hours in Taklimakan Desert， our vehicle arrived in Tazhong. Toward sunset， Tazhong is like a lonely vessel， anchoring in the hinterland of the vast desert and leaving people in amaze at its romantic existence. The so-called Tazhong is actually the name of Operation Center of Tarim Petroleum Administration for short （“Ta” from Tarim， and “zhong” means center）. Oil workers here call it as Tazhong City which must be the smallest one in China with less than one square kilometer. From distance we saw two natural-gas torches flaming in line. We were told that they have been burning for many years costing 100RMB per second. Off the vehicle， we headed to the torches. In this everlasting silence of Sand Ocean， the blue sky looks empty and high； the double torches seemed to be two huge fire balls from another star， hanging and being erratic in the sky. It was like dreaming in a magical paradise. Only the pole of National Flag of PRC drew us back to this real world. The setting sun， big and round， is bright and fiery red， sketching the contours of the vast sand ocean around us. The desert presented itself like continual waves， or attractive curves of a beautiful reclining lady. The sand patterns changed with the setting sun beams， colorful and unrealistic.
Though it was very hot， we didn’t sweat at all； dry and comfortable， seemingly we even didn’t need a shower. We had buffet in a workers’ cafeteria which looked like a train carriage. Food was simple while palatable. Opposite to the cafeteria was Tazhong Hotel we stayed in. Surprisingly in this remote desert， the hotel was so well-facilitated and no second to a hotel in a city. Even there were several girls in my sight in beautiful-colored skirts swaying away gracefully. In such a sudden， those horrible legends about deserts in my mind melted away. Standing against the window which was reflecting the flicker of the torches， I didn’t help talking to Wang Shiwei whose writing focused on petroleum industry， “This place is not as tough as expected.” He stared at me with his big eyes， seemingly thoughtfully， “You will see tomorrow.”
The second day was arranged to travel by desert vehicles as for our real experiences. I noticed fairly early that a group of big vehicles were like huge beasts， crouching along the road. These beasts had big square nose and long body； the wheels are at least 2 meters high. They looked terrifying at first sight； however， in a while you found them also lovely. These must be well-known desert vehicles. It was said that they could travel in barren desert and were regarded as vanguards when drilling oil in desert. The two vehicles that we were to take were called as “desert car” due to its relatively small size； even so the wheels were still as high as a person. Both of them were Mercedes Benz. The leader of our writers’ team Chen Changben with an interview notebook in one hand， grubbed the handle with the other hand and got on the vehicle in a single bounce. He looked buoyant and vigorous and refused to choose the rear seats which were thought as safer. Since we came to Tarim Oilfield， he had arranged our interview on almost every evening. We were tired and couldn’t help dropping off， meanwhile no one would be comfortable to go have a rest， so we had to keep awake as well as we could. So far from being tired， he seemed to have endless vigor， and kept noting all the time. The writer Zhang Ping， proud of his youth and strength， took it upon to himself to determinedly choose the front seat. Our group， led by Old Li from a newspaper called Petroleum， was all good boys to accept any seat arrangement.
In the desert vehicle， one would feel like riding on a camel， which granted you a feeling of height. It was acceptable when we started. We were feeling mellow due to the bumps， which reminded me of joyful riding on a small donkey in childhood. People were not excited enough with these gentle bumps and asked to hit steeper sand slope. When we were in the real sand ocean， things became tougher. A sand dune though looked gradual in distance， would become very difficult and steep when approaching. The rising sun cast long shadows on the dunes， and we felt like losing in numerous hills around. The vehicle in front of us alternated between its climbing and diving used to be like a climbing lizard， then a diving tiger while our vehicle kept swirling like being in a Thomas Circle. It would roar for several times to climb a steep hill； then it ran lurching down like a fall down in a valley， which left us black out. No voice but fast-beating heart and sweating hands tightly clutching safe handles. I had never been so nervous even on the roller coaster in Shijingshan Amusement Park. Finally bad luck knocked： the front vehicle was stuck in sand after a dive， so was ours. The engine hummed invalid. I jumped off and immediately dug sand under wheels with hands. My funny movements triggered the laughter of my fellow-travelers. One of them Chen Xinzeng took the chance and photographed the historical scene. Later we knew that in the front vehicle Changben’s head was swollen with a bump and Zhang Ping’s knee was raw and bleeding. We hurried to offer our sympathy and help. The emergent first-aide stopped the bleeding. A roll of tissue paper which was found from nowhere was totally used to wrap his knees in such a tight and safe way. The front vehicle truly broke down and needed to be towed by another bigger vehicle from the Operation Center. The worker leader who was responsible for this travel apologized with an awkward smile， and explained that the two drivers were both green hands； when he turned around， I noticed that he gave the young driver a blaming glare. The naughty young driver quickly pulled his tongue out and said， a self-examination and criticism would be inevitable. We had to stay there awaiting help. By that time we started to feel like being toasted beside doubles of fireplaces； seemingly doubles of tongues of flame lapping people’s face， once you opened your mouth， they would as if dart into your lung； high overhead， the pale disc of the sun was hanging like a huge fire ball which were lit by God who was so proud of his roasting skill. Someone screamed in surprise that the plastic shoes was melting； someone tilted back his head， drinking bottle water and satisfying his thirst； another one covered his face with hands and hunkered down to rest. Now I began to believe that eggs could be cooked by the heat of the land surface temperature of over 70℃ in daytime. I was wondering once： “wasn’t drifting sand gentle and slow？” If so， it would be possible to traverse the desert provided one is strong and healthy enough. Now I understood that this idea was almost nonsense. Lu Xiaolu from the newspaper Petroleum was well informed and he said that it was still of possibility actually and told a story. There was once a prisoner who escaped with holding a big watermelon in arms. In daytime he hid in shade of sand dune to conserve water in his body and at night he pushed on guided by the direction of the Big Dipper. He released his thirst with the only melon and survived six or seven days. You know what？ He made it！ He crossed this part of desert！ Though he was arrested again eventually， his experiences in fighting the desert were very helpful to us. I have no way to tell whether this is true or just a story he made up.
This time I came to Xinjiang with two books： History of the Expedition in Asia 1927-1935 by Sven Anders Hedin and Sand-buried Ruins of Khotan by Marc Aurel Stein and read pages once I got time. It is hard to judge them. Anyway we should show our respect to them for their adventurous and hard-working spirit. At that time they mainly depended on local camel team when entered into Taklimakan. Camels are really very great. They deserve the honor of being called as “the ship of desert”. Without camels， human could do nothing but sigh upon the vast expanse of deserts. Even the Silk Road Culture as a miracle of human civilization wouldn’t have been created without camels’ contribution. I remembered that when the great artist Wu Zuoren came to the west during 1940s， he was attracted by camels at the first sight and decided to draw pictures for them. He was moved and shocked by camel’s persistence. As for drawing pandas， it was a thing much later. Now things have become better that the desert vehicle appeared as modern “ship of desert”. Furthermore， they have been kept upgrading and much more advanced than camels. It was really a great contribution made by modern technology for human to conquer desert. Look， in the sky are flying planes， submarines swimming under ocean， and vehicles running in deserts. How powerful is the science and technology！ What a great achievement of material civilization！ That night I had a dream. In the dream I drove a desert vehicle， like Pathfinder walking on Mars， or Apollo on the moon. Without gravity I felt like floating on the ocean of desert and was in the full bloom of luxurious contentment. In no time the vehicle speeded up and the mysterious and vast “ocean of death” became tame. I found a nameless ancient city’s ruins which was much bigger than Niya Ancient City， then found a Ten-thousand Buddha Cave which was much more magnificent than Qizil Thousand-Buddha Cave. All of a sudden the vehicle and I together were swallowed by a huge dark hole. I felt myself falling down sharply， down toward the dark and gloomy Center of Earth...I must have been sweating when woke up in fright， maybe was calling help loudly.
Dream ends up to be a dream but it seems to indicate something mysterious. In the coming days the real life in oil field revealed its tough self to me and forced me to think over about the human’s influence， the purification of soul and the relationship between human and the science and technology and so on. Here I didn’t pretend to be deep in thinking this way. I never agreed with those people who looked down upon the development of the science and technology and thought human should be No. 1. While on a higher level I kept thinking who on earth was conquering the desert， the vehicle or the driver. Was human an appendage of vehicle， or vehicle the human’s handmaid？ Even in a complete information era， when the human intelligence would reach its top and all the hardest and dirtiest jobs would be arranged to robots， whether does the nobility of human still lie in the valuable morality， broad-minded benevolence， and unflinching perseverance？
A middle aged driver told me he had transported equipments in deserts from Luntai to Tazhong. It was regarded as fast if you could cover dozens of kilometers in one day. It would take one month to finish this journey. But now the desert roads shortened the distance and one step on the gas would make it. In desert when driving it is easy to meet sandstorm which looks like black cotton adding darkening the sky. The visibility is in less than 1m； the sand particles will block people’s nose and eyes； breath will be harder and tiny sand particles wouldn’t be cleared in at least one month. No wonder I noticed there were a lot of cotton balls beside wash basins in oil field hotels when I came along. I understood now they were used for oil workers to clear nostril or eyes. I also noticed that in the desert vehicle there were a lot of tissue paper and empty paper boxes； I wondered what would be their function. I asked the driver， he kept smiling rather than talking. I insisted asking and he opened his mouth to talk； driving in desert， the hardest part was to tolerate the extreme heat； the air conditioner wouldn’t help at all during the heat of daytime； the vehicle was almost burning and the driver’s seat was too hot to be seated； drivers had to squat on the seat and sometimes they would rather be naked when driving because there was no water to wash their sweat-soaked clothes. Meanwhile too much sweat would cause the festering of parts on legs， thus people usually put a lot of tissue paper under or in-between their legs. Even in this case it wouldn’t stop the festering so people use a folk remedy to sun their ass. Sometimes they would do it together； there were no other people anyway. He also told me not to throw away the empty paper boxes which were once used to contain bottle water. Mosquitoes in desert were usually very harmful so people would sit in a paper box when defecating to avoid mosquito bite； even the water bottles would be worthy to save； filled with urine， they could be used for other travelers as road signs because it was so easy to be lost in desert. And wind wouldn’t blow these bottles away. I burst into laughter till tears came out， then I felt unspeakably heavy in my heart. In my mind it was funny and sad， wild and bluff. What sentimentality it was！ Is this dirty？ Or rugged？ No， not at all， instead what I saw was purity. Indeed， the word “purity” is my favorite. Desert is remote and sand is rough while in one sense they are the purest which could cleanse our soul and resume the sense of purity in a natural person. I remembered at that time when we came back， a fly was found in our vehicle and we tried to drive it away. The driver broke his usual silence and said， “Stop doing that. Why shall we not just let it be here and take a free and air-conditioned ride？ It is rare to appear here. Maybe we are destined to meet each other this way.” When arrived at Tazhong， the driver opened the window as he talking， and let the fly out in an intended while casual way. Then he closed the window slowly. I noticed this detail and I believed that other people noticed too. At that moment we were all very quiet and forgot to get off the vehicle.
It is very hard to survive sandstorm， extreme heat and thirst but the worse is to endanger your life. I heard such a story： a master and his apprentice encountered a sandstorm and their vehicle which was half buried couldn’t move at all. They clearly knew that it was difficult for planes or rescuers to find them， but they were still waiting hopefully. When the sandstorm stopped， they exhausted all of their water and food. No news in daytime， they were looking forward the fall of night. In the darkness of night， they took off their clothes to plait them together into a torch and watered them with diesel. They lit the torch and hang them high wavering and hoping to be noticed. What they got was nothing but disappointment. The apprentice was on the point of breathing his last； he dug the sand and put his face down inside. The master had no way but risked to walk out. He staggered to seek a way； finally he touched the steel rail toward the desert airport and he lost sense. In the second morning， someone saw an animal-shaped thing lying on the rail. When nearing， it turned out to be a person. The apprentice was found later. He tossed off seven bottles of water as soon as he recovered his consciousness. I heard another story about a young man with last name of Xiao who was on vacation after his survival. He dated his girl friend on the bank of the Peacock River. When he saw the clear river behind the girl， he took a header into deep water regardlessly and never came back. Some said that his illusion induced him； some other said he was mentally deranged.
Such a young life faded away before his time， which brought me into sorrowful thought. I would rather believe that he was too much willing to close water which was regarded as the source of life so as like he was reaching for life. This will to be alive was even stronger than the love for his girlfriend. What a shocking tragedy it was！ This reminded me of some very frank words from a rig manager Gu. He said：“ You guys come here for just looking around. If someone could stay here for very two months， even doing nothing， he would be admired as a great man. Everyday we need to work for around dozen hours， and then go back to the row， train-carriage like dormitory for rest. All single men are with together everyday and have nothing to talk about with each other. Before no women came here but in recent years， more service facilities were built therefore some women came to work. People here take love affairs very seriously； no one would play on each other’s affection or just get fun from sex. If someone is doing so， he or she would be notoriously degraded. Some people might think this is too conservative but that is people’s morality here. Some think that we are well-paid. That’s not true. Besides wage， we don’t have other income resource. If one would like to give up his home leave， he can get some subsidies. Some people haven’t gone home for several years to save money for their poor family. So， if you stay long here， people are easily annoyed， irritated or fretting. Even a good-tempered person can’t escape from these. At the end he uttered bitterly： “I hate the sand color！” In this world some people are seeking oil while most of us are using. I knew coal was formed out of dead forests in a long slow process of sea-land changes. And oil？ I guess oil was from the animal lives---mollusks， fish， amphibians and reptiles such as dinosaurs. Sedimentary evolution and deposit resulted petroleum， or else it won’t be so blazing and fervent. Petroleum is as valuable as blood which is indispensible in modern society. Wasn’t the Gulf War covered by heavy clouds of petroleum？ Oil is sort of strange. It might know its high value so it hides in remote and untrodden places， in the deepest layer of wilderness， ocean or desert. This increases the difficulty to explore meanwhile it is destined that the life of oil workers would be filled with solemn and tragic toughness. One who was born to be an oil worker is supposed to suffer more hardship： he is always far from the crowd， keeps heading to unexplored places without any material comforts. Meanwhile he needs to cut himself off entirely from the pleasures and enjoyments of the world which are so valued in common people’s life such as hometown， sexual love， family love， the worldly prosperity and human daily happenings. So his destiny would be like the two torches in Tazhong， burning day and night till the last exhaustion. Each time when I think of it， all sorts of feelings well up in my mind.
One evening during the Spring Festival I passed by a karaoke bar， from inside came out a song： “The blowing wind in sands aged life， it couldn’t age my nostalgia. How many nights in my dreams I went back to my hometown...” Maybe due to the hoarse and desolated voice of the singer， I suddenly thought of Tarim Oil Field and the desert vehicle drivers and drilling workers. In my heart I insisted that this song is performed by them and for them. Back to Beijing， I thought Tarim would have been so far away from me and I even couldn’t sense it. But at that moment， I as a drifter in metropolis felt that my heart was with them again， with those drifters in desert. I understand cities would be paralyzed without oil and we would become “desert people”in city. In such a case， was it merely the oil that those workers in desert contributed to us？ Desert is cold and silent while it has fire underground； metropolis is fiery but it is not necessarily improbable to make people as cold as money. Desertification of the earth worried us much while desertification of the soul worried us more. Deep in my thought I was clouded by a vast expanse of fear， standing on the street silently. Tears stole down my cheeks.
（Translated by Wang Yanlin）
所谓“塔中”，乃是塔里木石油局中部指挥所的简称，石油人喜欢叫它塔中市，说它是全中国最最小的一个市，方圆1平方公里都不到。老远就望见两支并排高举的天然气火炬在燃烧，据说，它们以每秒烧掉一张百元钞票的速度烧了好多年了。下了车向火炬走去，在这万古岑寂的沙海窝里，头顶是高旷无极的蓝天，双炬像从外星球飘来的两团火球，悬空浮摇，忽左忽右，使人恍然进入了充满魔幻气的天国。只有正中一杆国旗，才把人拉回现实。快沉下去的太阳，硕大而圆，鲜红欲滴血，周遭沙海茫茫，夕照勾出轮廓，或如无边的波涛涌来，或如侧卧的女人曲线起伏，沙纹变幻出五颜六色的光晕，委实迷离幻魅。
奇怪的是，热而无汗，浑身干爽，好像根本用不着洗澡。在车厢式的工区食堂吃自助餐，虽然简单，色味颇佳。住进对面的塔中宾馆，其设备之全竟不亚于内地的一般宾馆。我甚至看见一二姑娘的花裙子从眼底飘过。刹那间，那些有关沙漠的种种诡异恐怖的说法，全没了踪影。斜倚在火炬的反光闪动的窗台，我忍不住对石油作家王世伟说：“这里并不怎么艰苦嘛。”世伟用大眼睛异样地瞅了我一会儿，似有深意地说：“明天你就知道了。”
第二天的安排是乘沙漠车，为的是让我们“体验体验”。我早就注意到路边蹲伏着一群庞然大物，方鼻子后缩，长身子耸起，轮子大到至少有2米多高，模样像吓人的巨兽，细看又觉憨态可掬。这肯定是赫赫有名的沙漠车了。据说它能在无路的沙幔中行走，是沙漠石油钻探的开路先锋。准备让我们乘坐的两辆是小型的，叫尤迪摩克，后轮却也有一人多高，属奔驰公司产品，有“沙漠小卧车”之称。
上车时，我们作家团的团长陈昌本，一手拿采访本，一手扳住扶手，一个腾跃就上去了。他拒不坐较为安全的后排，显得很矫健。自进入塔里木油田以来，他几乎夜夜安排我们采访，困得人直打盹，又不便走开，只好忍着。他倒好像有使不完的精力，记录起来没完。作家张平自恃年轻力壮，非要坐前排，一副当仁不让的样子。我们这辆车的人则由《石油报》的老李带头，比较听话，让坐哪儿就坐哪儿。
坐沙漠车有种骑骆驼似的居高感。开头还好，微醺似地颠簸着，让人想起小时候骑毛驴的晃悠，颇为潇洒。大家均嫌坡不够陡，要求再生猛些。待进入真正的沙海，发觉情况不妙了，远看平缓的沙丘，置身其中才知陡峻得很，斜射的朝阳拉出长影子，好像掉进了群山万壑的迷阵。只见前面的车，或作壁虎爬升状，或作猛虎下山状；我们这辆，则反复做“托马斯旋转”。遇到高坎，须怒吼好多声才能攀上；遇到深谷，则如瀑布入涧，叫人两眼发黑。大家全傻眼了，谁还敢出声，心儿狂跳，攥横梁的手满把出汗。乘石景山游乐园的过山车怕也没这么紧张。不幸终于发生：前面的车在一次俯冲时栽进沙窝不能动了，我们这辆也陷进流沙，呜呜地干嚎着。我跳下车不由分说立即用双手猛刨轮下的沙子，惹得大伙全笑了，陈新增适时地为我抢拍下这一历史性镜头。此时才知，前面的车中，昌本的头磕了一个大包，张平膝盖碰破，血流如注。我们赶忙去慰问，经紧急处理，血止住了，不知从哪儿弄来大宗卫生纸，把张平的腿包了个严实。他们那辆车真是抛锚了，须等待总部的大型车来拖，负责陪同的工长含笑道歉，说两个司机都是新手；转过脸却狠狠剜了小司机一眼。小司机顽皮地吐了吐舌头，说这下可得写检讨了。
驻足沙原等候援救。此时顿觉，周身似有几十个火炉烘烤着，脸上似有几十条火舌狂舔着，人一张口就有一团团火往肺里钻，太阳如惨白火盆悬在头顶，好像上帝徐徐放出的白焰，得意于他烹调的烧烤。有人惊呼塑料鞋底变形了，有人仰脖子痛饮矿泉水，有人捂着脸下蹲。至此我始信，白昼地表温度70℃多能煮熟鸡蛋的话。我原先想，流沙不是蛮温顺的吗？只要有足够的脚力，徒步穿越未必不可能，现在看来近乎说昏话。《石油报》的路小路见多识广，他说，也不是绝对不可能，有个逃犯，逃时抱了个西瓜，白天躲在沙坡背阴的坑里保存水分，夜里靠北斗星辨认方向赶路，渴了就啃口西瓜皮，熬了六七天，真给他小子跑成了。不过，到头还是给抓了回来。但他的斗沙经验对我们很有用。也不知这是他胡编的，还是真事。
这次进新疆，我随身带了斯文·赫定的《亚洲腹地八年探险》和斯坦因的《沙埋和阗废墟记》，有空就读几页。怎么评价他们的功过呢，单看他们的冒险精神、吃苦精神，你没法不佩服。不过，他们那时进塔克拉玛干，主要靠当地的骆驼队。想想骆驼，也着实伟大，不负“戈壁之舟”的美称，倘若世无骆驼，人类面对广袤无垠的沙漠，就只能发苦海无舟之叹。丝路文明作为人类伟大的文化奇迹，少了骆驼的参与恐怕不能成立。记得大画家吴作人20世纪40年代到西部，首先相中了画骆驼，他是被骆驼在困境中的韧性震撼了，他画熊猫之类那是后来的事。现在好了，现代化的“戈壁之舟”沙漠车出现了，且不断换代，比之骆驼，不知先进了多少，实为科技文明征服沙漠的一大贡献。看啊，飞机在蓝天翱翔，潜艇在海底游弋，沙漠车在沙原奔驰，科学技术真也威力无边，物质文明的成就多么值得自豪。
乘沙漠车后的当夜，我做了一个梦，梦见我开着沙漠车，有点像乘坐“探路者”号在火星上行走，又像乘“阿波罗”号登上月球，因失去了地心引力，我漂浮着，晃荡着，惬意极了。转眼车速变得极快，神秘浩瀚的“死亡之海”，在我的胯下服服帖帖地掠过，我一会儿发现了比尼雅古城大得多的无名古城遗址，一会儿找到了比克孜尔千佛洞更加瑰丽的无名万佛洞。可是突然，我和沙漠车被一巨大黑洞吸了进去，我觉得自己在急速地坠落，坠落，向黑暗幽邃的地心栽下去……惊醒时我大汗淋漓，一定大声呼救来着。
梦境终究是梦境，但地心的吸力似乎含有某种神秘的暗示，接下来我在油田耳濡目染的事实，不断把生活中严酷的一面展露出来，逼我思索诸如人的作用、灵魂的净化、科技与人的关系之类的问题。我在这里绝非矫情地故作高深，对过去那种鄙薄科学技术，空喊人的因素第一的高调，我大不以为然，但在更深刻的意义上，我却在想，究竟是谁在征服沙漠，是沙漠车还是驾驶沙漠车的人？究竟人是车的附庸，抑或车是人的仆役？即使全面进入了信息时代，人的智能达于巅峰，脏活累活全交给机器人干去了，人之为人的高贵，是否仍在于他并没有失却宝贵的道德激情、宽广的仁爱胸怀和坚忍不拔的毅力？ 一位中年司机对我说，在没有路的沙窝里运器材，一天能走几十公里就算快的，那时从轮台到塔中，要走一个多月呢，哪像现在有了沙漠公路，一踩油门，呜地就到了。在沙海里开车经常会遇上沙暴，天地失色，状如黑絮，能见度不到1米，沙粒把鼻眼全塞严了，气都喘不上来；渗进眼窝鼻孔的沙，一个月也洗不干净。噢，怪不得我在沿途的油田招待所发现，洗脸池边总备有大量棉球，不知何用，敢情是给石油工人清理鼻孔、眼圈用的。我还注意到，沙漠车里放有不少卫生纸和空纸箱之类，甚感奇怪。问这位司机，他一个劲地笑，就是不说。问急了才说，在沙地开车最难熬的是酷热，最热时，空调根本不起作用，驾驶楼都快烤红了，座位烫得沾不得，只好蹲着操作，有时干脆赤身裸体——沙漠缺水，被汗浸透的衣服到哪去洗啊。可人身上有的部位出汗特别多，时间长了会溃烂，这就需要双腿夹着卫生纸了，用量还不小。但屁股还是烂，烂了只好用土法恶治，就是曝晒，有时他们会一齐冲着太阳晒屁股，反正沙漠里没人。他还说，装矿泉水的空纸箱不能丢，沙漠里蚊子很毒，大便时把纸箱掏个洞坐进去，可以防蚊；就是矿泉水的空瓶子也别乱扔，沙漠中容易迷路，用空瓶子装了尿给后面的人做路标，风还吹不动哩。听了这些，我先是哈哈大笑，笑出了泪，过后却是说不出的沉重。我想象着，那是怎样的滑稽而又悲壮，野性而又豪放，令人发笑又令人感伤啊！它肮脏吗？粗鄙吗？不，一点也不，我看到的恰恰是洁净。
是的，我很愿意用“洁净”这个词。沙漠多么荒远，沙子何其粗砺，但在某种意义上，它们又是最干净的，最能澡雪精神，恢复自然人式的纯真感。记得那次乘沙漠车回来，一只苍蝇不知从哪儿钻了出来，我们连连扑打。一直沉默的司机忽然说，别打了，就让它免费坐一段空调车吧，它能在这儿冒出来还真不容易呢，没准跟我们有缘分。车到塔中，司机似有意又似无意地边说话边拉开车窗，待苍蝇出去了，他才慢慢地合上窗户。我注意到了这个细节，我觉得别人也注意到了这个细节，一时间车厢里静极了，大家好像全忘了下车。
沙暴、酷热、焦渴固然难熬，更严重的是还会遇到生命危险。听说发生过这么一件事：一位师傅和他的徒弟碰上沙暴，大半个车身被埋，怎么也开不动，他们明知道飞机和救援者难以发现他们，可还是等待着。沙暴停了，水喝光了，东西也吃光了，每个白天都没有任何消息，于是他们盼着夜的来临。到时他们就一件件地脱下衣服，拧成火把，蘸上柴油点燃，高挑着，摇晃着，希望被发现，但等来的总是失望。徒弟奄奄一息了，挖开沙把脸埋进去，僵仆着；师傅只有冒险出走，连爬带滚地摸索，终于在摸到沙漠飞机场的钢铁轨道时昏厥了。第二天早晨，有人看见轨道上趴着个什么动物，怪怪的，走近才发现是人。那个徒弟后来也找到了，苏醒后，他一口气喝下七瓶矿泉水。我还听说，一个脱险后回库尔勒休假的青年司机，姓肖，约好与女友在孔雀河畔会面，当他一眼看到女友身后清冽冽的河水时，竟不顾一切地一个猛子扎下去，再也没能上来。有人说，这是出现了幻觉所致，也有人说，他的精神错乱了。
这年轻生命的夭折，使我想了很久。我倒宁可认为，有了水才有了生命，生命的第一需要是水。他太想亲近水了，以至于对水的渴望超过了对异性的渴望。这是怎样令人震惊的悲剧啊。我想起一位姓顾的钻井队长十分坦率的话，他说：“你们到这里来，也就是看看，假如有个人什么也不要他干，能在这里呆够两个月，就是了不起的人了。我们每天干活十几个小时，然后回车厢式的排子房睡觉，单身男人全住在一起，天天说，也没什么话可说的。这里本不会有女人，近年因增加了服务设施，才有了一点，但谈恋爱的有，乱来的没有，谁乱来就把自己搞臭了。这里人的道德观念就是如此，你们听了也许觉得好笑。有人说我们待遇高，其实也不，除了工资没有别的来源，要有就是放弃探亲假把钱加上去，有家里太穷的已好几年没回过家了。所以，在这里呆久了会有‘三躁’：枯燥、急躁、烦躁，脾气再好的人也难逃这‘三躁’。”他最后重重地说：“我厌烦沙黄色！”
我想，在这个世界上，有的人在找油，绝大多数人在用油。我知道煤是古森林经海陆变迁形成的，那石油呢？我猜想它可能是古动物——软体动物、鱼类、两栖类，以至爬行类如恐龙的肌体层层淤积衍化的，不然就不会那么加倍的炽烈。石油如血液般珍贵，现代文明社会须臾离不开它，海湾密布的战云里，不就有一股浓浓的油腥味吗？石油这东西也怪，可能它知道自己身价颇高，就总是藏匿在人迹罕至的地方，深隐在荒原、海洋、沙漠的幽邃的底层。这就增加了开采的难度，也注定了石油开采者生存境遇的悲壮。一个人生而为石油工人，须比常人承受更多苦难：他总是远离人群，不停地到没有人没有路，也没有起码物质条件的地方去，同时，他还要舍弃享乐，而所弃的正是普通人最看重的东西，比如家园、性爱、天伦之乐、繁华胜景、人间烟火之类。于是，他的宿命就像塔中的那两簇火炬，日夜不息地燃烧，直到烧尽为止。每念及此，我便感慨万端。
春节期间的一个晚上，我路过一家歌舞厅，里面传出了歌声，那歌词是：“风沙吹老了岁月，吹不老我的思念，曾经多少个今夜，梦回秦关……”也许因为歌者的嗓音沙哑而苍凉，我猛然想起了塔里木油田，想起了我采访过的沙漠车司机和钻井工人们，我固执地认为，这歌像是他们在唱，唱的是他们的心情。本来，回北京后，塔里木已变得非常遥远，我甚至感应不到它的一点回声了，可是此刻，我这都市的漂泊者似乎与沙漠漂泊者的心又交融到一起了。我知道，倘若没有石油，城市会彻底瘫痪，我们会变成城里的沙漠人，然而，石油人献给我们的难道仅仅是石油吗？沙漠是冷寂的，但它的下面有火焰；都市是热狂的，但它未必不会使人变得像货币般冷硬。地球的沙化令人不安，灵魂的沙化更让人忧思。这么想着，我被一种广大无边的杞天之忧所笼罩，怔怔地立在街头，泪水竟悄悄地爬上了眼睑。
Zooming on oil-transporting highway four hours in Taklimakan Desert， our vehicle arrived in Tazhong. Toward sunset， Tazhong is like a lonely vessel， anchoring in the hinterland of the vast desert and leaving people in amaze at its romantic existence. The so-called Tazhong is actually the name of Operation Center of Tarim Petroleum Administration for short （“Ta” from Tarim， and “zhong” means center）. Oil workers here call it as Tazhong City which must be the smallest one in China with less than one square kilometer. From distance we saw two natural-gas torches flaming in line. We were told that they have been burning for many years costing 100RMB per second. Off the vehicle， we headed to the torches. In this everlasting silence of Sand Ocean， the blue sky looks empty and high； the double torches seemed to be two huge fire balls from another star， hanging and being erratic in the sky. It was like dreaming in a magical paradise. Only the pole of National Flag of PRC drew us back to this real world. The setting sun， big and round， is bright and fiery red， sketching the contours of the vast sand ocean around us. The desert presented itself like continual waves， or attractive curves of a beautiful reclining lady. The sand patterns changed with the setting sun beams， colorful and unrealistic.
Though it was very hot， we didn’t sweat at all； dry and comfortable， seemingly we even didn’t need a shower. We had buffet in a workers’ cafeteria which looked like a train carriage. Food was simple while palatable. Opposite to the cafeteria was Tazhong Hotel we stayed in. Surprisingly in this remote desert， the hotel was so well-facilitated and no second to a hotel in a city. Even there were several girls in my sight in beautiful-colored skirts swaying away gracefully. In such a sudden， those horrible legends about deserts in my mind melted away. Standing against the window which was reflecting the flicker of the torches， I didn’t help talking to Wang Shiwei whose writing focused on petroleum industry， “This place is not as tough as expected.” He stared at me with his big eyes， seemingly thoughtfully， “You will see tomorrow.”
The second day was arranged to travel by desert vehicles as for our real experiences. I noticed fairly early that a group of big vehicles were like huge beasts， crouching along the road. These beasts had big square nose and long body； the wheels are at least 2 meters high. They looked terrifying at first sight； however， in a while you found them also lovely. These must be well-known desert vehicles. It was said that they could travel in barren desert and were regarded as vanguards when drilling oil in desert. The two vehicles that we were to take were called as “desert car” due to its relatively small size； even so the wheels were still as high as a person. Both of them were Mercedes Benz. The leader of our writers’ team Chen Changben with an interview notebook in one hand， grubbed the handle with the other hand and got on the vehicle in a single bounce. He looked buoyant and vigorous and refused to choose the rear seats which were thought as safer. Since we came to Tarim Oilfield， he had arranged our interview on almost every evening. We were tired and couldn’t help dropping off， meanwhile no one would be comfortable to go have a rest， so we had to keep awake as well as we could. So far from being tired， he seemed to have endless vigor， and kept noting all the time. The writer Zhang Ping， proud of his youth and strength， took it upon to himself to determinedly choose the front seat. Our group， led by Old Li from a newspaper called Petroleum， was all good boys to accept any seat arrangement.
In the desert vehicle， one would feel like riding on a camel， which granted you a feeling of height. It was acceptable when we started. We were feeling mellow due to the bumps， which reminded me of joyful riding on a small donkey in childhood. People were not excited enough with these gentle bumps and asked to hit steeper sand slope. When we were in the real sand ocean， things became tougher. A sand dune though looked gradual in distance， would become very difficult and steep when approaching. The rising sun cast long shadows on the dunes， and we felt like losing in numerous hills around. The vehicle in front of us alternated between its climbing and diving used to be like a climbing lizard， then a diving tiger while our vehicle kept swirling like being in a Thomas Circle. It would roar for several times to climb a steep hill； then it ran lurching down like a fall down in a valley， which left us black out. No voice but fast-beating heart and sweating hands tightly clutching safe handles. I had never been so nervous even on the roller coaster in Shijingshan Amusement Park. Finally bad luck knocked： the front vehicle was stuck in sand after a dive， so was ours. The engine hummed invalid. I jumped off and immediately dug sand under wheels with hands. My funny movements triggered the laughter of my fellow-travelers. One of them Chen Xinzeng took the chance and photographed the historical scene. Later we knew that in the front vehicle Changben’s head was swollen with a bump and Zhang Ping’s knee was raw and bleeding. We hurried to offer our sympathy and help. The emergent first-aide stopped the bleeding. A roll of tissue paper which was found from nowhere was totally used to wrap his knees in such a tight and safe way. The front vehicle truly broke down and needed to be towed by another bigger vehicle from the Operation Center. The worker leader who was responsible for this travel apologized with an awkward smile， and explained that the two drivers were both green hands； when he turned around， I noticed that he gave the young driver a blaming glare. The naughty young driver quickly pulled his tongue out and said， a self-examination and criticism would be inevitable. We had to stay there awaiting help. By that time we started to feel like being toasted beside doubles of fireplaces； seemingly doubles of tongues of flame lapping people’s face， once you opened your mouth， they would as if dart into your lung； high overhead， the pale disc of the sun was hanging like a huge fire ball which were lit by God who was so proud of his roasting skill. Someone screamed in surprise that the plastic shoes was melting； someone tilted back his head， drinking bottle water and satisfying his thirst； another one covered his face with hands and hunkered down to rest. Now I began to believe that eggs could be cooked by the heat of the land surface temperature of over 70℃ in daytime. I was wondering once： “wasn’t drifting sand gentle and slow？” If so， it would be possible to traverse the desert provided one is strong and healthy enough. Now I understood that this idea was almost nonsense. Lu Xiaolu from the newspaper Petroleum was well informed and he said that it was still of possibility actually and told a story. There was once a prisoner who escaped with holding a big watermelon in arms. In daytime he hid in shade of sand dune to conserve water in his body and at night he pushed on guided by the direction of the Big Dipper. He released his thirst with the only melon and survived six or seven days. You know what？ He made it！ He crossed this part of desert！ Though he was arrested again eventually， his experiences in fighting the desert were very helpful to us. I have no way to tell whether this is true or just a story he made up.
This time I came to Xinjiang with two books： History of the Expedition in Asia 1927-1935 by Sven Anders Hedin and Sand-buried Ruins of Khotan by Marc Aurel Stein and read pages once I got time. It is hard to judge them. Anyway we should show our respect to them for their adventurous and hard-working spirit. At that time they mainly depended on local camel team when entered into Taklimakan. Camels are really very great. They deserve the honor of being called as “the ship of desert”. Without camels， human could do nothing but sigh upon the vast expanse of deserts. Even the Silk Road Culture as a miracle of human civilization wouldn’t have been created without camels’ contribution. I remembered that when the great artist Wu Zuoren came to the west during 1940s， he was attracted by camels at the first sight and decided to draw pictures for them. He was moved and shocked by camel’s persistence. As for drawing pandas， it was a thing much later. Now things have become better that the desert vehicle appeared as modern “ship of desert”. Furthermore， they have been kept upgrading and much more advanced than camels. It was really a great contribution made by modern technology for human to conquer desert. Look， in the sky are flying planes， submarines swimming under ocean， and vehicles running in deserts. How powerful is the science and technology！ What a great achievement of material civilization！ That night I had a dream. In the dream I drove a desert vehicle， like Pathfinder walking on Mars， or Apollo on the moon. Without gravity I felt like floating on the ocean of desert and was in the full bloom of luxurious contentment. In no time the vehicle speeded up and the mysterious and vast “ocean of death” became tame. I found a nameless ancient city’s ruins which was much bigger than Niya Ancient City， then found a Ten-thousand Buddha Cave which was much more magnificent than Qizil Thousand-Buddha Cave. All of a sudden the vehicle and I together were swallowed by a huge dark hole. I felt myself falling down sharply， down toward the dark and gloomy Center of Earth...I must have been sweating when woke up in fright， maybe was calling help loudly.
Dream ends up to be a dream but it seems to indicate something mysterious. In the coming days the real life in oil field revealed its tough self to me and forced me to think over about the human’s influence， the purification of soul and the relationship between human and the science and technology and so on. Here I didn’t pretend to be deep in thinking this way. I never agreed with those people who looked down upon the development of the science and technology and thought human should be No. 1. While on a higher level I kept thinking who on earth was conquering the desert， the vehicle or the driver. Was human an appendage of vehicle， or vehicle the human’s handmaid？ Even in a complete information era， when the human intelligence would reach its top and all the hardest and dirtiest jobs would be arranged to robots， whether does the nobility of human still lie in the valuable morality， broad-minded benevolence， and unflinching perseverance？
A middle aged driver told me he had transported equipments in deserts from Luntai to Tazhong. It was regarded as fast if you could cover dozens of kilometers in one day. It would take one month to finish this journey. But now the desert roads shortened the distance and one step on the gas would make it. In desert when driving it is easy to meet sandstorm which looks like black cotton adding darkening the sky. The visibility is in less than 1m； the sand particles will block people’s nose and eyes； breath will be harder and tiny sand particles wouldn’t be cleared in at least one month. No wonder I noticed there were a lot of cotton balls beside wash basins in oil field hotels when I came along. I understood now they were used for oil workers to clear nostril or eyes. I also noticed that in the desert vehicle there were a lot of tissue paper and empty paper boxes； I wondered what would be their function. I asked the driver， he kept smiling rather than talking. I insisted asking and he opened his mouth to talk； driving in desert， the hardest part was to tolerate the extreme heat； the air conditioner wouldn’t help at all during the heat of daytime； the vehicle was almost burning and the driver’s seat was too hot to be seated； drivers had to squat on the seat and sometimes they would rather be naked when driving because there was no water to wash their sweat-soaked clothes. Meanwhile too much sweat would cause the festering of parts on legs， thus people usually put a lot of tissue paper under or in-between their legs. Even in this case it wouldn’t stop the festering so people use a folk remedy to sun their ass. Sometimes they would do it together； there were no other people anyway. He also told me not to throw away the empty paper boxes which were once used to contain bottle water. Mosquitoes in desert were usually very harmful so people would sit in a paper box when defecating to avoid mosquito bite； even the water bottles would be worthy to save； filled with urine， they could be used for other travelers as road signs because it was so easy to be lost in desert. And wind wouldn’t blow these bottles away. I burst into laughter till tears came out， then I felt unspeakably heavy in my heart. In my mind it was funny and sad， wild and bluff. What sentimentality it was！ Is this dirty？ Or rugged？ No， not at all， instead what I saw was purity. Indeed， the word “purity” is my favorite. Desert is remote and sand is rough while in one sense they are the purest which could cleanse our soul and resume the sense of purity in a natural person. I remembered at that time when we came back， a fly was found in our vehicle and we tried to drive it away. The driver broke his usual silence and said， “Stop doing that. Why shall we not just let it be here and take a free and air-conditioned ride？ It is rare to appear here. Maybe we are destined to meet each other this way.” When arrived at Tazhong， the driver opened the window as he talking， and let the fly out in an intended while casual way. Then he closed the window slowly. I noticed this detail and I believed that other people noticed too. At that moment we were all very quiet and forgot to get off the vehicle.
It is very hard to survive sandstorm， extreme heat and thirst but the worse is to endanger your life. I heard such a story： a master and his apprentice encountered a sandstorm and their vehicle which was half buried couldn’t move at all. They clearly knew that it was difficult for planes or rescuers to find them， but they were still waiting hopefully. When the sandstorm stopped， they exhausted all of their water and food. No news in daytime， they were looking forward the fall of night. In the darkness of night， they took off their clothes to plait them together into a torch and watered them with diesel. They lit the torch and hang them high wavering and hoping to be noticed. What they got was nothing but disappointment. The apprentice was on the point of breathing his last； he dug the sand and put his face down inside. The master had no way but risked to walk out. He staggered to seek a way； finally he touched the steel rail toward the desert airport and he lost sense. In the second morning， someone saw an animal-shaped thing lying on the rail. When nearing， it turned out to be a person. The apprentice was found later. He tossed off seven bottles of water as soon as he recovered his consciousness. I heard another story about a young man with last name of Xiao who was on vacation after his survival. He dated his girl friend on the bank of the Peacock River. When he saw the clear river behind the girl， he took a header into deep water regardlessly and never came back. Some said that his illusion induced him； some other said he was mentally deranged.
Such a young life faded away before his time， which brought me into sorrowful thought. I would rather believe that he was too much willing to close water which was regarded as the source of life so as like he was reaching for life. This will to be alive was even stronger than the love for his girlfriend. What a shocking tragedy it was！ This reminded me of some very frank words from a rig manager Gu. He said：“ You guys come here for just looking around. If someone could stay here for very two months， even doing nothing， he would be admired as a great man. Everyday we need to work for around dozen hours， and then go back to the row， train-carriage like dormitory for rest. All single men are with together everyday and have nothing to talk about with each other. Before no women came here but in recent years， more service facilities were built therefore some women came to work. People here take love affairs very seriously； no one would play on each other’s affection or just get fun from sex. If someone is doing so， he or she would be notoriously degraded. Some people might think this is too conservative but that is people’s morality here. Some think that we are well-paid. That’s not true. Besides wage， we don’t have other income resource. If one would like to give up his home leave， he can get some subsidies. Some people haven’t gone home for several years to save money for their poor family. So， if you stay long here， people are easily annoyed， irritated or fretting. Even a good-tempered person can’t escape from these. At the end he uttered bitterly： “I hate the sand color！” In this world some people are seeking oil while most of us are using. I knew coal was formed out of dead forests in a long slow process of sea-land changes. And oil？ I guess oil was from the animal lives---mollusks， fish， amphibians and reptiles such as dinosaurs. Sedimentary evolution and deposit resulted petroleum， or else it won’t be so blazing and fervent. Petroleum is as valuable as blood which is indispensible in modern society. Wasn’t the Gulf War covered by heavy clouds of petroleum？ Oil is sort of strange. It might know its high value so it hides in remote and untrodden places， in the deepest layer of wilderness， ocean or desert. This increases the difficulty to explore meanwhile it is destined that the life of oil workers would be filled with solemn and tragic toughness. One who was born to be an oil worker is supposed to suffer more hardship： he is always far from the crowd， keeps heading to unexplored places without any material comforts. Meanwhile he needs to cut himself off entirely from the pleasures and enjoyments of the world which are so valued in common people’s life such as hometown， sexual love， family love， the worldly prosperity and human daily happenings. So his destiny would be like the two torches in Tazhong， burning day and night till the last exhaustion. Each time when I think of it， all sorts of feelings well up in my mind.
One evening during the Spring Festival I passed by a karaoke bar， from inside came out a song： “The blowing wind in sands aged life， it couldn’t age my nostalgia. How many nights in my dreams I went back to my hometown...” Maybe due to the hoarse and desolated voice of the singer， I suddenly thought of Tarim Oil Field and the desert vehicle drivers and drilling workers. In my heart I insisted that this song is performed by them and for them. Back to Beijing， I thought Tarim would have been so far away from me and I even couldn’t sense it. But at that moment， I as a drifter in metropolis felt that my heart was with them again， with those drifters in desert. I understand cities would be paralyzed without oil and we would become “desert people”in city. In such a case， was it merely the oil that those workers in desert contributed to us？ Desert is cold and silent while it has fire underground； metropolis is fiery but it is not necessarily improbable to make people as cold as money. Desertification of the earth worried us much while desertification of the soul worried us more. Deep in my thought I was clouded by a vast expanse of fear， standing on the street silently. Tears stole down my cheeks.
（Translated by Wang Yanlin）