URUMQI, July 9 (Xinhua) -- On the southern edge of the Taklamakan Desert in northwest China, one of the most arid places on Earth, something unusual is happening inside a cluster of greenhouses.
Banana leaves brush against the ceiling. Papayas and pineapples are pushing through soil that previously only yielded cotton. These fruits are native to the humid jungles of Southeast Asia, but now they are ripening in the dry, salt-crusted land of Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region.
The agricultural miracle has stunned the people of Moyu County, once a poverty-stricken area in southern Xinjiang. The conditions here are always tough: intense sunlight, scarce rainfall and soil crusted with salt.
Local farmers make a living by growing drought-resistant cotton and wheat. But such hardy crops have lower economic returns.
So when researcher Wang Ping first proposed planting high-priced tropical fruits here two years ago, even he was not sure if it would work.
Employed at the Xinjiang Institute of Ecology and Geography under the Chinese Academy of Sciences, Wang led a program in 2024 to grow fruits in the desert-edge county.
Xinjiang's large day-night temperature swings and abundant sunshine help fruits accumulate natural sugars. But the soil posed a major challenge.
The soil was moderately saline, hard to take up water. Conventional farming flushes salt out with heavy watering. But that left the ground waterlogged, and the roots could not breathe.
"I was discouraged at that time," Wang said. Relying on large amounts of organic fertilizer to maintain soil fertility would cost so much that local farmers cannot afford it.
After intensive research, Wang found a low-cost but effective recipe: spread manure of cows and sheep over the salty ground, add crushed walnut shells to improve soil aeration, and spray water lightly to let weeds grow naturally. Then plow everything back into the soil.
After several rounds of plowing, the salt gets washed down and the organic matter accumulates.
Wang noted that the method could help restore fertility using only agricultural waste.
Now, the county has 18 greenhouses growing 10 varieties of fruits.
However, fixing the soil was not the most difficult part. When the program began, Wang hired local farmers as greenhouse workers. But their farming experience was based on open-field grains, not on delicate greenhouse cultivation. So the early results were not good.
Wang turned to local college students, who had studied theory but had no practical experience.
The young people have since transformed the greenhouse into a living classroom. From temperature control to growth monitoring, they learned to apply data-driven techniques to manage agriculture scientifically.
Last year, they harvested fruits. But for Wang, success is not just about how much fruit they harvest but also whether locals can keep going after the program ends next year.
In January, the young farmers leased 10 greenhouses of their own, planting off-season grapes. They made steady earnings, winning parents' support.
Government support is also on offer. According to a joint plan from the Ministry of Agriculture and the Xinjiang regional government, greenhouse farming in southern Xinjiang is expected to generate 9 billion yuan (1.32 billion U.S. dollars) in annual revenue and create jobs for 200,000 rural workers by the end of 2028.
Abulaiti Aizezi, a local villager with a middle-school education, pioneered the program. Compared with a factory job in cities, he prefers managing his own greenhouse in the county.
On the wall of his greenhouse hangs a whiteboard where Wang once wrote down lesson notes. On the table sits a worn notebook filled with his own handwriting.
"I have mastered the skills," he said. "Even after the program ends, I can keep working on it." ■
