Former Xinjiang herder discovers prosperity and passion on the ski run

URUMQI -- At a resort on the outskirts of Urumqi, capital of Northwest China's Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, there is often less than an hour to spare between day and night skiing sessions.

For ski coach Huzar Tohtarhan, that means rushing into the lodge, grabbing a quick plate of noodles, and checking his phone for reminders of the next lesson or filming appointment.

"Today is especially busy," said Huzar, 19. "I spent extra time filming a student on the slope earlier."

That afternoon, a girl from Harbin, capital of Northeast China's Heilongjiang province, contacted him via the Chinese short-video platform Douyin, hoping to get a follow-cam video on one of the resort's most challenging runs, Aiwen Avenue, a 36-degree advanced slope regarded as a badge of skill among experienced skiers across China.

At the top, the girl hesitated. "I encouraged her for a long time," Huzar said. "She finally made it down without falling."

Huzar kept a considerate distance to ease her nerves, focusing not on her face but on her snowboard, capturing clean carves and the edge cutting through the snow. The final clip was exactly what she wanted.

Such follow-cam filming has become Huzar's "another job" beyond coaching. He now records almost every student's final run, and a growing number of clients book him purely for video services through social media. This winter alone, about 30 skiers have contacted him just for filming.

"Sometimes clients aren't satisfied with their performance, so I film again and again, even delaying my meals at times," he said. "But seeing their eyes light up when they watch the video makes it all worth it. I want every skier to leave Xinjiang with proud skiing memories."

This is Huzar's fifth season working at the resort. Not long ago, his life looked completely different.

Huzar, a native of Miao'ergou village in Urumqi county at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains facing Bogda Peak, grew up in a natural skiing zone with long winters, abundant snow and relatively mild temperatures.

For generations, however, people here lived alongside cattle and sheep rather than speeding down slopes. He first strapped on a snowboard at the age of six, following his parents, who worked at a nearby ski area. "I fell all the time at the beginning," he recalled. "I got sprains and bruises everywhere. But once I was on the snow, I was thrilled. I just loved skiing from deep inside."

Without formal training at first, he taught himself and later joined his middle school's skiing team, squeezing training between schoolwork, arriving before dawn and leaving after dark.

As skiing grew popular across China, Xinjiang became a popular winter destination. Resorts expanded, infrastructure improved, and this local ski area grew into Xinjiang's first 5S-rated resort, with slopes covering nearly 1.7 million square meters.

That's when Huzar realized skiing could be more than a hobby and eventually pursued it as a career.

Supported by local authorities and his village, Huzar took professional training, passed exams and got his ski instructor certification.

"Herding meant being under the sun and wind all day, often alone," Huzar said, reflecting on his journey from herder to coach. "Now I'm doing what I truly love."

This season, he has taught over 500 students, sometimes five or six a day on busy weekends. During Xinjiang's first official "snow holiday" in early December 2025, more than 20,000 skiers flooded into the resort.

As his client base grew, so did his interest in filming. He started by capturing follow shots of other coaches on his phone, but as his students' skills advanced, the phone could no longer keep up, so he upgraded to a wide-angle action camera.

New challenges followed. Many skiers wanted frontal shots, which require Huzar to ski backward.

"It was hard at first," he said. "I fell constantly, covered in bruises on my hips and knees."

"Gradually, I found the rhythm," he added. "Now I can keep the shot stable while skiing backward, capture the key moments, and even judge other skiers' positions by the sound of their boards to avoid collisions."

Beyond income and skill, skiing has brought him something even more valuable -- human connections.

"Before, my companions were horses and sheep. Sometimes I didn't speak all day," he said. "Now I meet people from all over."

On his social media account, Huzar shares skiing tips, behind-the-scenes filming experiences and the snowy landscapes of his hometown. He said he hopes not only to teach more people to ski, but also to help others like him discover new career paths on the slopes.

His story is no longer unique around the resort. Nearby villagers have opened guesthouses and restaurants, as well as strawberry-picking gardens that stay open late for skiers. Tourism, once busy only in summer, now thrives year-round.

"My income keeps rising, and life gets happier every day," Huzar said.