A truck carries construction materials for a railway connecting the East Ujumqin banner with the Hesigewula coalmine. Photo taken on June 6. Photo: Li Xiaoshu

By Li Xiaoshu in Xilinhot

As Hugejiletu's car entered a sandy basin, its GPS navigation screen turned completely blue, indicating it was driving in a river.

The 39-year-old nomadic herder was taking a shortcut with his wife and son to their former 320-acre pasture swallowed by dunes in Baiyinwula village of East Ujumqin Banner under the Xilin Gol league, a prefecture-level division of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region. They were forced to abandon it in 2003.

"Wow, this is really cool! We're traveling across the bottom of the Ulagai River," cried out his 5-year-old son Sunier, touching the screen curiously. "But why are we in a desert instead of the water? Is it a dream?"

It's no miracle to drive in the Ulagai River after a dam built for industrial use blocked it in 2004. Downstream ran dry.

The 360-kilometer-long interior river flows from the Greater Hinggan Mountains in the northern border of China to the west of the 80 million-hectare Ujumqin grassland, claimed as the "the largest contiguous grassland on Earth" by local authorities and one of the important belts protecting North China from sandstorms.

But a wetland fertile for thousands of years along the river has suffered tremendous degradation, particularly, in the lower reaches, leaving the Ujumqin grassland increasingly vulnerable.

"Our homeland is dying," Hugejiletu said, as he looked desperately at the direction of his old house lying on the wetland near Yihenoer, a 42-square kilometer lake located at the end of the Ulagai River and frequently lashed by violent sandstorms.

Increased rainfalls this year, however, brought the family a glimpse of hope to return."If the water comes back one day, my grassland can be revived," said Hugejiletu.

All of a sudden, his car stalled, stopped and started sinking slowly into the sand.

The three spent an agonizing hour pulling out their stuck vehicle and finally abandoned their plan to visit their old homeland, now a sandy wasteland.

Five-year-old Aruna becomes terrified as a small sandstorm hits the East Ujumqin banner on June 7. Photo: Li Xiaoshu

When the river ran free

Hugejiletu said he can't forget the breathtaking beauty of the wetland some 10 years ago: a shallow rivulet meandering in lazy curves and reeds swaying in the breeze, the green grass opened to the horizon, unfurling like a great waving sea, where horses galloped and herds of sheep and cattle moved beneath the sky.

The Ulagai water system, formed by various rivers and lakes, looks like blood vessels. With an annual runoff of 145 million cubic meters taking up 58.4 percent of the system, the Ulagai River serves as the artery. As a result, the huge wetland was formed.

Cut to the present. The soil has become saline and alkaline with little vegetation. Species of birds, including swans, wild geese and red-crowned cranes, are absent and the homes of the herders are gone in the towering blasts of sand and dust. Only camels and needlegrass are seen.

"This is how nature goes. I can blame nobody but my fate," said the man who witnessed all the changes.

The Ministry of Environmental Protection zoned an area of 130,000-hectares of the river upstream as a national-level wetland reserve in 2002, but did not include the wetland downstream, which gradually disappeared.

Still officially 'wet'

Ironically, the Global Times discovered that the area remained blue on a wall map hanging in the Bureau of Water Resources of Xilin Gol league. "The East Ujumqin banner has been short of water due to decreasing rainfall," said Han Gang, director of the bureau's general affairs office.

East Ujumqini ranks fifth among six banners in the league in terms of water resources, according to the latest research by the Inner Mongolia Agricultural University (IMAU).

However, it is said that climate change didn't necessarily lead to the vanishing wetland, because annual precipitation reached 300 micrometers in 2008 and 255 micrometers in 2009, the two highest peaks in the past decade, according the Meteorology Bureau of East Ujumqin banner.

Rainfall records show no significant decline compared to historical figures, said Yi Jin, a professor at IMAU. "The water cycle was destroyed as more and more reservoirs, coal mines, railways, and manufacturing plants were built at the cost of environmental losses," she said.

Industrialization blamed

The ultimate cause for the fading wetland is industrialization, said Chen Jiqun, founder of Echoing Steppe, an NGO that advocates the protection of natural grasslands in Inner Mongolia and traditional nomadic culture. Chen is also a prominent artist.

Statistics by local bureau of agriculture and animal husbandry showed that some 46.5 percent of the banner's 436- hectare grassland available was eroded, 5.4 percent undergoing salinization and 0.78 percent is becoming desert land.

"The phenomenon was specifically represented by the construction of the Ulagai reservoir and other projects that wrested away limited water resources that had supported an ecologically balanced wetland," said Chen.

Stinging sand

Dust and swirling sand erupted miles beyond Hugejiletu's summer home, a yurt set up on a piece of grassland some 10 kilometers southeast of Yihenoer.

It reminded him of heavier sandstorms that threatened the livelihoods of the 56,500 banner residents. Driven by up to 80 mile-per-hour winds, the fury of the sands usually lasted two to three days, obscuring the bright yellow sun and stinging exposed skin.

"The sand whipped our doors and windows, it was rather frightening," recalled Wuyuntana, Hugejiletu's wife.

Forced to leave their native land in 2003, the family rented a pasture with more than 10,000 yuan ($2,950), almost half of their annual income.

Since the entire grassland was degenerating, they also spent another 10,000 yuan on extra grass to feed some 500 sheep, each sold at a maximum price of 500 yuan, while the annual rural per capita net income of some 30,000 local herders was merely 18,000 yuan on average in 2009, according to the Xilin Gol league government.

But like many other herders who couldn't maintain a steady cash flow, the family relied on loan sharks, sometimes with an interest rate of up to 200 percent.

"The cost of herding rose sharply and now we can hardly afford to survive," said Jin Yu, 49, another herder who lost a 294-hectare grassland to desertification.

The situation worsened after a paper factory illegally discharged toxic wastewater into the wetland in early 2000. Though authorities closed down the factory after outraged herders sued its owner in 2002, local vegetation and drinking water were already severely polluted.

"The water smelled terrible," said Damulinzhabu, a herder whose sheep were poisoned by the ruined water. "The reeds are extinct now."

Choking off the Ulagai River

A giant reservoir with a storage capacity of 248 million cubic meters at the upper stream of Ulagai River started retaining water after it was rebuilt in 2004. The reservoir dam was originally built in 1977, but collapsed in 1998 after it was damaged in a flood.

With a State investment of more than 40 million yuan, the new dam is some 700 meters long and 14 meters tall, blocking the entire channel of the Ulagai River.

At a normal water level of 911.2 meters, it can supply some 4,760 cubic meters of water annually to plants in the Ulagai Management Zone, including the Hesigewula Coalmine, the Xilinhe Chemical Plant and several electricity factories, said Li Ming, director of the Ulagai Reservoir Administration.

When asked whether the reservoir brings about drought in the downstream wetland, he said that none of the industrial plants were in operation.

"Even if we removed the reservoir, there won't be enough water flowing downstream. It is the hotter and drier weather that prevents precipitation and accelerates evaporation," he argued.

However, he said that the reservoir hasn't discharged water for six years. "Since we prioritize economic growth, local governments are unlikely to demolish controversial reservoirs," he said. "It's a problem of the system and the principal of development."

The projected profit of the reservoir's industrial water supply was 11 million yuan, according to the Development and Reform Commission of Xilin Gol league.

In March, the East Ujumqin banner government announced that the proved reserve of coal reached 30 billion tons, up 38 percent from the previous year.

As a consequence, four railway projects connecting the banner with the Hesigewula coalmine were authorized by the Inner Mongolia Development and Reform Commission and began construction on May 1.

A 2010 document said the local government seized some 1,046 hectares of grassland owned by 246 households - allocating 30 million yuan as compensation– a figure three times the actual fee of 128 yuan per hectare received by the herders.

"The government persuaded us to give up the grazing land to meet their desire for industrial expansion and urbanization, contrary to the nomadic culture," said Batujirigela, 31, a former professional wrestler in the banner and now a herder living on some 400 hectares of grassland.

More than 10 coalmines were developed in the region and supporting industries boomed, said Batar, director of the banner's Grassland Monitoring and Supervision Bureau.

"The deteriorating wetland, in short, is partly due to industrial goals that the nation fights for daily, sometimes irrationally," he said.

Policies trying to contain the spreading desert - what the government calls the "household responsibility system" and "enclosure policy" to divide grasslands by fence and allocate them to herders based on the number of household members - were disputed, by many such as Batar.

Reining in the nomads

Another contentious policy, dubbed the "ecological migration" program to reduce pressure on the grasslands from overgrazing, requires removing herders from the grasslands into towns and cities.

More recently, the local government blamed overpopulation and overgrazing for accelerating the desertification of Inner Mongolia and began controlling the number of animals per hectare.

"The government didn't blame industrialization," said Se Leng, a former deputy director of the banner's Political Consultative Conference. "In essence, they forced the nomadic herders and their grass-consuming animals to stop wandering. Such decisions are really biting the people."

In contrast, authorities promoted the idea that "industrialization was the only choice to develop minority areas," a concept continually echoed by officials.

"We have to adopt the principal of 'small area developed, larger grassland protected,' a compromise measure weighing both development and conservation," said Ha Si, deputy director of the publicity office of Xilin Gol league.

Yao Zhongsheng, director of the Press Office of Ulagai Management Zone, said it's inevitable to sacrifice individual benefits while pursuing collective interest.

Chen Jiqun, strongly opposed to the assertions.

"Those changing the pastures are not victims of the desertification," he said.

Meanwhile, Nangejiletu would continue to survive, hard as it may be.

"I'm a man. I will struggle with my own hands," he said, who prefers a traditional nomadic life marked by wind, herding and the search for water.

But he expected his son, Sunier to study in a big city and perhaps settle there.

"It might be slightly better than attending a flock of sheep on the dried-out ground where grass once grew."