Postcards from abroad/China: Six months spent teaching in the remote Chinese province of Xinjiang, on the rim of a massive desert, proves quite an eye-opener for Philip Roe

Korla is a bustling, shiny, ultra-modern mini-metropolis, an oasis city on the north-eastern rim of the massive Taklamakan desert in the province of Xinjiang, in north-west China; and it is here, in this enigmatic, remote yet compelling region that I have been teaching English for the past six months.

Indeed, travelling to exotic, far-flung climes seems to be the rite of passage du jour of many of Dublin's student population. Whilst teaching has proved extremely agreeable and rewarding, the main impetus behind my coming to such an obscure part of central Asia was both prompted by half-baked notions of pagodas and yurts, and a genuine desire to see and experience a wholly new and alien culture.

Xinjiang is a fascinating place: an enormous, largely inhospitable region, covering one-sixth of China's landmass, yet containing only one-sixtieth of its giant population. Bordering eight countries (including Russia, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Mongolia) as well as Tibet, it is renowned for its ethnic diversity - it is home to some 13 minorities, the largest demographic group being the 8 million or so Muslim Uyghurs, originally of Turkic extraction. In terms of climate and environment, Xinjiang is amazingly varied (for instance, the temperature was a chilly minus-17 degrees upon arrival, and is now, as I write, a sweltering 37 degrees), with arid deserts, soaring peaks to the south and lush grasslands to the north, thus enabling a vast array flora and fauna.

Historically, Xinjiang constituted a sizeable stretch of the evocative Silk Road, traversing between the then-capital Xi'an and - via Kashgar and Constantinople - Rome. After subjugation to the all-conquering Mongol hordes of Genghis Khan in 1219, quarrelling Muslim princes then held sway until the reappearance of the Chinese, in the form of the Manchu-Qing dynasty (1644-1911).

Two shortlived attempts at independent self-rule preceded the consolidation of power by the Communists. The government's repopulation and sinicisation of China's "wild west" has seen an influx of Han Chinese settlers into Xinjiang (translating as "new frontier"). It is this direct juxtaposition of Han and Uyghur, and the inevitable clash of cultures, that is the most arresting and defining feature of Korla.

A 10-minute bicycle ride out of the city in any direction, and one is suddenly surrounded by dry, barren plains. Ramshackle timber and mudbrick dwellings line the dusty, unpaved streets of small, rustic Uyghur villages, where there is little or no hint of modernisation. In these poor rural settlements, the olive-skinned women continue to dress in traditional garb, colourful shawls and headscarves, golden teeth and jewellery glinting, while the old "aksakal" ("greybeards" or village elders) cut especially picturesque figures: heavy leather boots, long tattered coats and finely-patterned skull-caps.

In the shrinking Uyghur quarter of Korla itself, there are the enticing smells of roadside naan bread and kebab stalls, haggard vendors hawking intricately-embroidered fabrics, and rickety donkey carts laden with fresh watermelons.

However, moving further into the urban centre, the surroundings transform completely, and the segregation and racial disparity of these two utterly different peoples becomes fully apparent. American-style shopping malls loom overhead (indicative of modern China's voracious economic drive), the moneyed priviligentsia swoop through the traffic in 4x4s, horns blaring, and neon lights on gaudy high-rise buildings illuminate the wide tree-lined boulevards at night.

There is a marked lack of interaction between the Han and Uyhgurs, their physiological appearance, attire, language, script and customs utterly distinct from one another. They even run on different times: the Uyghurs (in a mild note of political dissent) running two solar hours behind the officially-proscribed Beijing time. That said, in spite of their differences, both share an exceedingly friendly and warm disposition towards foreigners - a rarity in these parts.

Overall, this six-month sojourn has been a thoroughly enjoyable and eye-opening experience. I will sorely miss all the facets of daily life particular to Korla: thousands of uniformed school kids performing their daily morning exercises in mesmerisingly perfect unison; the sweet-natured senior Han citizens playing the game mahjong in our courtyard and local tea-house; the hustle and otherworldly nature of the captivating old Uyghur area; and, though daunting at first, the sheer fun of interacting with a classroom of 55 boisterous kids.

I feel very lucky indeed to have sampled this naturally beautiful and culturally rich, if oft-overlooked, part of the world.

Philip Roe (23) from Glenageary, Co Dublin, is a TCD graduate in History of Art