[Internet Repost]

Exploring the Chuanchang Taiye Gongbei located on Yuanshan Road in Jilin City, Jilin Province, this article traces the historical roots of the late Qing Dynasty Jiaqing era Hui Muslim sage Ma Datian (known as Chuanchang Taiye, 1757–1817) from Jinjibao, Ningxia. It covers his exile to the Jilin shipyard, the spread of Islamic culture in Northeast China, and his final resting place at Beishan.

The Gongbei of the Third-Generation Master of Jahriyya, Chuanchang Taiye

(Located on Yuanshan Road, Jilin City, Jilin Province)



Muhammad Jalal, Chuanchang Taiye Ma Datian (may Allah shower His blessings upon him), held the religious title Qutb al-Alam. He was the only son of Baba Taiye and was born on the twenty-third day of the eighth lunar month in the twenty-second year of the Qianlong reign (1757) in Jinjibao, Ningxia. He was nurtured personally as a Qutb by the founder of the spiritual path. He once said: 'Those who firmly believe in me when I am hidden are like iron nails driven into solid rock; those who trust in me during my transitions are like carvings in wood; and those who believe in me when I am manifest are like drawing pictures on water.'

In the twenty-second year of the Jiaqing reign (1817), local officials unjustly framed and fabricated charges against the master, escorting him from Honglefu to Lingzhou, and later transferring him to Gaolan (Lanzhou) where he was finally sentenced to exile in Bukui—all according to Allah's preordainment. Before leaving the prison in Gaolan, he was instructed to pass on his spiritual stewardship (tariqa duties) to his eldest son, the Fourth of August Taiye. Those traveling with him included the Third Master (the third son of Chuanchang Taiye), the Master of Tanli, and the Second Master of Honglefu (the second son of Grandal). Upon reaching Shenyang, he fell ill, but pressed on to the shipyard (Jilin) despite his sickness. On the sixth day of the ninth lunar month in the twenty-second year of the Jiaqing reign (1817), the master who submitted to Allah's will and stood as a paragon of patience through adversity—Qutb al-Alam—passed away at the Tie family shop in the shipyard at the age of sixty, having shouldered the spiritual trust for six years. Imam Li of the Beiguan Mosque led the funeral prayer (janazah), and he was laid to rest in the Beishan cemetery.

Chuanchang Taiye endured the great trials of the forty-sixth and forty-ninth years of the Qianlong reign. Alongside his Murids (disciples), he handled religious affairs with utmost caution and faithfully fulfilled the founder's mission of a 'peaceful religion' under extremely difficult conditions, allowing Jahriyya to develop secretly. In the history of Jahriyya, this was another delicate and hidden chapter. Through trials and tribulations, he sought peace with tolerance and magnanimity, ultimately using his suffering, exile, and martyrdom to win peace and development for Jahriyya once again. Lingzhou, the center of Jahriyya, avoided government scrutiny over the 'new teachings' crime, and the catastrophe of ethnic annihilation for the religious community was averted through the master's exile.

During the Daoguang reign of the Qing dynasty, the Fourth of August Taiye visited the shipyard to pay respects at the grave, burying a stone arch engraved with the religious titles of Chuanchang Taiye, the Fourth of August Taiye, and the Master of This Era at the gravesite as a marker.

After the fall of the Qing dynasty, the Shagou Taiye sent people to purchase land and a small forest, construct buildings, and plant trees.

In 1954, the Master of This Era led Dostanis (disciples) representatives from all over the country to unearth the stone arch buried by the Fourth of August Taiye, and built a hexagonal Gongbei at the original site. They also constructed a scripture hall and guest rooms, with the four characters 'Ming Dao Hong Jiao' (Illuminating the Way and Propagating the Teaching) inscribed on the gate, which remain well-preserved to this day. In 1958, the tomb keeper was driven out, and some work units forcibly occupied the Gongbei. Through the unremitting efforts of Dostanis across the country, the Gongbei was finally reclaimed in 1982, and a tomb keeper was stationed there once again. Additional rooms were built in 2003.

Related Historical Materials:

Managib by the Qing dynasty scholar Erbudu Aihade and Lisahara by Mansour documented the disasters of the twenty-second year of the Jiaqing reign and how officials in Lingzhou Prefecture and Gaolan Prefecture extorted money:

'It is said that during the spiritual tenure of our great Mawla Shaykh Qutb al-Alam, a disaster occurred. The reason was that Dostanis from the west were carrying cantaloupes on carrying poles, intending to present them to the Mawla. Along the way, they happened to meet an errand runner of the Guyuan military commander who thought they were selling melons and asked to buy them. They replied, "These melons are not for sale; they are gifts for the Emperor." The errand runner asked, "Where is your Emperor and what is his name?" They answered, "In Lingzhou." "How is it that we have never heard of an Emperor there?" "He is the Emperor of the religion and the deputy of Guanchuan's Ersiziz."

The messenger returned to Guyuan, told the officials what had happened, and suggested that they report the words and actions of the disciples to the Gaolan Prefecture. Consequently, corrupt officials reported the matter under the pretext of Guanchuan's new teachings, and Gaolan Prefecture ordered the officials of Lingzhou to immediately arrest our Mawla.'

— Lisahara

'The cause for the sudden arrest of our Mawla Qutb al-Alam was that Dostanis and some relatives and friends came to say to the Taiye: "Your residence is too narrow and small; we should build a more spacious house for you. As Dostanis gradually increase in number, those coming for Dzikr cannot be accommodated." The Dostanis repeatedly insisted, and the Taiye reluctantly agreed. One day, the eldest master of Honglefu (the eldest son of Grandal) came to inspect the construction site. The Taiye said to him with anguish: "Master, you see that most of my hair and beard have turned white. Yet the Dostanis want to build a house for me today and a lecture hall for me tomorrow. Do they wish to cut off the sprouting seed?" Things turned out precisely as the Taiye had anticipated; the officials of Lingzhou arrested Chuanchang Taiye at the Asr prayer on the very day construction began, executing the arrest so swiftly that there was no time even to say goodbye.'

— Managib

'It is said that after the incident occurred, the great Mawla was summoned into the yamen by the officials. Believing the Mawla to be a wealthy man, an official told him: "If you can give me two thousand taels of silver today, I can lighten your sentence; otherwise, I will report you to the Governor-General of Gaolan (present-day Lanzhou), and by then, you will likely share the fate of that man from Guanchuan (referring to the founder of the path)." As soon as the Dostanis of Tuochangbao heard the news, they immediately pooled together two thousand taels of silver and presented it to the official, who beamed with smiles.'

However, the matter did not end there. After Chuanchang Taiye was taken under guard to Lanzhou, the administrative secretaries (shiye) of the yamen also sought to extort money. Lisahara records:

'Our Mawla was falsely accused by the rebellious and imprisoned in the Gaolan prison. They did this out of a desire for official promotion and fortune. A secretary said to the Dostanis: "The official sentence is the death penalty, but if you give me one thousand taels of silver, I will find a way to commute it to a lesser sentence..." Because the matter was urgent and the distance was too far to gather one thousand taels of silver immediately, the Master of Tanli went to Guanchuan and Momiguan to collect enough silver and quickly returned to Gaolan.' view all

[Internet Repost]

We are breaking down the historical legacy of the Jahriyya Sufi order in Northwest China, spanning from the first generation, Ma Mingxin, during the Qing Dynasty's Qianlong era, to the eighth generation of Murshid (spiritual guides). We will cover their birth and death dates, religious and spiritual titles, ancestral origins, key historical contributions, and the locations of their Gongbei (shrine/tomb of a Sufi saint) memorial sites.

Below, we will detail each of the first eight generations of the Taye (elders/Murshids), covering their birth and death, nicknames, spiritual titles, hometowns, major historical deeds, causes of passing, burial locations, and their overall significance in the order.

First Generation: The Ancestral Master (Daozu Taye) — Ma Mingxin (1719—1781)

Religious Name: Muhammad ibn Sayyid

Spiritual Title: Wiqaya-tullah (Protector of the Lord)

Nicknames: Daozu Taye (Ancestral Master), Guanchuan Taye

Ancestral Home: Daxiguan, Hezhou, Gansu (modern-day Linxia)

Background: He lost his father at a young age and grew up in poverty. He started learning at a mosque at age 6, and at 9, he traveled with his uncle for Hajj. They got separated, leaving him stranded in Central Asia and Yemen.

Studies: He spent about 15 years studying at the Naqshbandiyya (Jahriyya) school in Yemen under Muhammad Buluseni, where he received the Jahriyya lineage.

Instruction: Before he returned to China, his mentor told him, 'You will spread the order for eight more generations in China, then the lineage will conclude.'

Mission in China (1761):

He preached in Xunhua, Qinghai, and Guanchuan and Majiabu in Dingxi, Gansu.

He advocated for simplifying religious rituals, opposed the hereditary nature of Sufi orders, and promoted a lifestyle of purity and frugality, gaining a massive following.

He established the Jahriyya (a practice of loud dhikr/remembrance of Allah), which distinguished it from other orders.

The 1781 Su 43 Uprising:

Due to religious conflicts, Su 43 led Jahriyya followers in an uprising against the Qing government.

The Qing military lured Ma Mingxin into a trap, arrested him, and brought him to Lanzhou, where he was executed on the 27th day of the third lunar month at the age of 62.

Gongbei: Lanzhou Dongchuan Gongbei (Daozu Gongbei).

Legacy: Founder of the Jahriyya and the first-generation ancestor; he laid the foundation for the spirit of 'Shahid' (martyrdom).

Second Generation: The Pingliang Taye — Mu Xianzhang (1745—1812)

Spiritual Title: Imam al-Alam (Leader of the World)

Nickname: Pingliang Taye

Ancestral Home: Pingliang, Gansu

Background: Ma Mingxin’s top student; he previously served as a 'Khatib' (sermon giver) at the Shangsi Mosque in Pingliang.

Succession: After the Ancestral Master was martyred in 1781, he secretly succeeded him as the second-generation leader.

Situation: The Qing government was harshly cracking down on the Jahriyya, banning the faith, killing followers, and tearing down mosques; the order was near extinction.

The Eighteen Years in Pingliang (1784—1812):

He lived in seclusion in Pingliang, keeping a low profile, practicing patience, and preaching in secret to preserve the faith.

In 1784, when Tian Wu and Zhang Wenqing launched the Shifengbao uprising to avenge the Ancestral Master, the attempt failed and Mu Xianzhang was arrested and imprisoned.

He suffered greatly in prison and passed away on the 27th day of the fifth lunar month in 1812 at age 67.

Gongbei: Pingliang Nantai Gongbei.

Legacy: Known as the Ancestor who preserved the faith in dire circumstances, he established the Jahriyya's survival model of 'silent endurance and resilience.'

Third Generation: The Shipyard Taye — Ma Datian (1757—1817)

Spiritual Title: Qutb al-Alam (Pillar of the World)

Nicknames: Shipyard Taye (Chuanchang Taye), Lingzhou Taye

Ancestral Home: Lingzhou, Gansu (modern-day Lingwu, Ningxia)

Background: A student of Mu Xianzhang and a key leader of the Lingzhou branch.

Succession: Took over as leader after Mu Xianzhang passed away in 1812, continuing the 'Pingliang-Lingzhou' lineage.

Preaching: Centered in Lingwu and Jinji, Ningxia, he secretly expanded the follower base, shifting the center of the Jahriyya order to Ningxia.

Tragedy: He was discovered by the Qing government in 1817 and exiled to Heilongjiang; he became ill and passed away while traveling through the Chuanchang (shipyard) area in Jilin (modern-day Jilin City) at age 60.

Gongbei (shrine/tomb of a Sufi saint): Jilin Shipyard Gongbei, Ningxia Lingwu Gongbei.

Status: The founding father of the sect in Ningxia, where Jahriyya (a Sufi order) firmly took root and established the Lingzhou doctrinal lineage.

The Fourth Generation: The Eighth Day of the Fourth Lunar Month Master — Ma Yide (1778—1849).

Sufi Title: Haqq-Allah (Right of Allah).

Nickname: Eighth Day of the Fourth Lunar Month Master (he returned to Allah on the 8th day of the 4th lunar month).

Ancestral Home: Lingzhou (Lingwu), Ningxia; son of Ma Datian.

Succession: Took over in 1817 after his father passed away, marking the start of hereditary succession (the first three generations were selected by merit).

Missionary Work: Centered in Jinjibao, he openly preached and expanded their influence, turning Jinjibao into the political, economic, and religious hub of the Jahriyya.

Management: Managed trade and camel caravans, building significant wealth and laying the foundation for the Ma family legacy.

Return to Allah: Passed away in 1849 on the 8th day of the 4th lunar month at age 71.

Gongbei: Ningxia Jinjibao Gongbei.

Status: The restorer of the sect and the founder of the Jinjibao base, just before the Jahriyya entered its golden age.

The Fifth Generation: The Thirteenth Master — Ma Hualong (1810—1871).

Islamic Name: Tobir Tullah.

Sufi Title: Sayyid al-Shuhada (Leader of the Martyrs).

Nickname: Thirteenth Master (martyred on the 13th day of the 1st lunar month).

Ancestral Home: Jinjibao (Wuzhong), Ningxia; son of Ma Yide.

Succession: Became the leader in 1849, representing the fifth generation of the Jahriyya and the peak of the Jinjibao era.

Strength:

Commanded tens of thousands of troops and controlled most of Ningxia; Jinjibao featured fortified defenses and over five hundred outposts.

The Qing government granted him the title of Qianzong (a military rank), nominally submitting to the state while effectively ruling as an autonomous force.

The Dungan Revolt (1862—1871):

Launched an uprising against the Qing in 1862, sweeping across Ningxia and Shaan-Gan.

Captured Lingzhou in 1863, killed the local magistrate, and greatly increased his influence.

In 1870, Zuo Zongtang’s army besieged the area, surrounding Jinjibao for a year until their food and reinforcements were cut off.

On the 13th day of the 1st lunar month in 1871, Ma Hualong and his son surrendered; they were shortly after executed by lingchi (death by slow slicing) at age 61.

Gongbei: Wuzhong Siqiliangzi Gongbei.

Status: The most tragic martyr-leader; the fall of Jinjibao dealt a devastating blow to the Jahriyya.

The Sixth Generation: Yunnan Third Master / Beishan Master (Branch).

(1) Yunnan Third Master — Ma Fuchu (1791—1872).

Ancestral Home: Yunnan; descendant of Ma Mingxin, leader of the Yunnan branch.

Achievements: A master of Islamic theology with many writings, serving as the leader of the Jahriyya in the Southwest.

Outcome: Killed by Qing troops in 1872.

(2) Beishan Master — Ma Jincheng (1843—1899).

Ancestral Home: Jinjibao, Ningxia; the only surviving grandson of Ma Hualong (son of Ma Yaobang).

Experience: Captured when Jinjibao fell, castrated and enslaved, later rescued and lived in seclusion in the Beishan mountains (Haiyuan, Ningxia).

Succession: Secretly succeeded as the sixth generation, restored the order's lineage, and paved the way for the seventh generation.

Return to Allah: Passed away in 1899.

Gongbei: Haiyuan Beishan Gongbei.

The Seventh Generation: Shagou Master — Ma Yuanzhang (1853—1920).

Sufi Title: Sayyid Tun-la

Nickname: Shagou Taiye (the Grand Master of Shagou)

Origin: Born in Jiezhou, Gansu (modern-day Wudu). Later moved to Shagou, Xiji. He was the nephew of Ma Jincheng.

Biography:

Following the Jinjipu Incident, he lived in exile in Yunnan and Guizhou, using business as a cover to stay connected with the Hui Muslim community.

After Ma Jincheng returned to Allah (passed away) in 1899, he succeeded him as the seventh leader (Murshid).

After 1900, he returned to the Northwest, settled in Shagou, Xiji, rebuilt the Daotang (religious center), and revived the Jahriyya order.

Key characteristics: Focused on intellectual revival and peaceful preaching, opposed violence, maintained ties with government officials, and protected the local community.

Passing: He perished during the 1920 Haiyuan earthquake at the age of 67.

Gongbei (shrine): Shagou Gongbei in Xiji.

Legacy: Known as the restorer of the order and a model for peaceful mission work; he led the Jahriyya out of its darkest times and brought it back to life.

The Eighth Leader: The Eighth Grand Master — Ma Zhenwu (1895—1960)

Sufi Title: Abdul-Haliq

Nickname: Ba Bei Taiye (The Eighth Grand Master)

Origin: Shagou, Xiji, Ningxia; the fourth son of Ma Yuanzhang.

Biography:

As a child, he was summoned to Beijing by Yuan Shikai, essentially serving as a hostage and remaining stuck in the capital for years.

Following his father's death in 1920, he took over as the eighth leader.

During the Republican era, he served as a member of the Gansu Provincial Government and a representative to the National Assembly, actively participating in politics.

In 1936, he welcomed the Red Army during their westward march, advocating for national equality and unity.

After the founding of the People's Republic, he served as the Chairman of the Xiji-Haiyuan-Guyuan Hui Muslim Autonomous Region, a member of the Ningxia Preparatory Committee, and Deputy Director of the China Islamic Association.

In 1958, he was wrongly labeled a rightist. He passed away in 1960 at age 65 after years of being wronged; he was officially exonerated in 1984.

Gongbei (shrine): Shagou Gongbei in Xiji.

Legacy: The final leader of the line and a patriotic religious figure who witnessed the entire evolution of the Jahriyya from the Qing Dynasty through to the new China.

A one-line summary of the eight generations:

1. Founder (Ma Mingxin): Established the order and became a martyr.

2. Pingliang (Mu Xianzhang): Preserved the faith during a time of crisis.

3. Chuanchang (Ma Datian): Laid the foundation in Ningxia.

4. Siyueba (Ma Yide): Sparked a revival at Jinjipu.

5. Shisan (Ma Hualong): Reached the tragic pinnacle of the order's history.

6. Beishan (Ma Jincheng): Kept the lineage hidden while waiting for renewal.

7. Shagou (Ma Yuanzhang): Led a peaceful restoration.

8. Ba Bei (Ma Zhenwu): The final leader and a voice for patriotism. view all

[Internet Repost]

This guide breaks down the two major Sufi brotherhoods—or menhuan—found in Northwest China: the Jahriyya (the Loud-Chanting Order) and the Khufiyya (the Silent-Chanting Order), covering their Arabic origins, different ways of performing dhikr (devotional remembrance), early histories, and their role in Hui Muslim society.

When people hear the term menhuan (Sufi brotherhood) in the context of Northwest Chinese Muslims, they often get confused—especially with the names Jahriyya and Khufiyya, which sound and look pretty similar. While both are Sufi traditions that evolved in China, they’re actually like twins with completely different personalities. Plus, the stories behind these groups are deeply tied to major families like the Mas and the Hongs, which makes digging into their history super interesting.

Let’s start with the names, which both come from Arabic. Jahriyya means 'out loud,' so they’re known as the 'Loud-Chanting Order,' while Khufiyya means 'hidden' or 'secret,' which is why they’re the 'Silent-Chanting Order.' The names pretty much tell you everything you need to know about the main difference in how they worship.



So, what does that actually look like? When followers of the Jahriyya are performing dhikr (remembrance of Allah) or praising the Prophet, they do it loudly and with a lot of energy—you can sometimes hear a whole group chanting in unison, which is incredibly powerful. Because of this, they’ve historically been very organized and tight-knit. The Khufiyya, on the other hand, are all about silent, internal recitation. They focus on finding peace and stillness in the middle of a chaotic world, making it feel more like a personal spiritual practice.



Historically, these two groups have had very different vibes. The Jahriyya was founded during the Qing Dynasty by Ma Mingxin, a guy from Wudu in Gansu province. He was orphaned young and studied in Linxia before starting this group. His teachings, which emphasized helping fellow believers, became a hit with the working class. However, disagreements with the existing 'Old School' (a branch of Khufiyya) over rituals eventually led to major conflict, including several uprisings against the Qing government. After thousands of deaths in the 18th century and the massive decade-long Dungan Revolt in the 19th century, the Jahriyya gained a reputation for being bold, defiant, and revolutionary.

The Khufiyya has a longer history, arriving in China during the late Ming and early Qing Dynasties. They’re generally seen as more moderate and conservative, preferring to keep to themselves rather than picking fights. The Khufiyya is the largest of the four main menhuan, with many branches like the Huasi, Hu, Beizhuang, Mufti, and Hong branches. The Hu branch, in particular, is huge in places like Linxia and Guanghe. They’re known for being 'low-key' and focusing heavily on personal, internal spiritual growth.



The surname 'Ma' is extremely common among Northwest Muslims, appearing in almost every branch. The Jahriyya founder, Ma Mingxin, was a Ma, and subsequent leaders were often from the same family. Ma Mingxin’s martyrdom after returning from hajj in Yemen became a symbol of resistance for generations. Later, during the 19th-century revolt, the fifth Jahriyya leader, Ma Hualong, led an uprising at Jinjipu before being executed by the Qing general Zuo Zongtang. In the Jahriyya tradition, the Ma name isn't just about leadership; it’s a symbol of their spiritual spirit.



In the Khufiyya order, the surname Ma is also everywhere, but it functions differently. For example, Ma Wanfu (also known as Ma Guoyuan) was a key figure who founded the Mufti branch. He had a massive influence in the late Qing and early Republican eras. Unlike the Jahriyya, where leadership often ran in the family, the surname Ma in Khufiyya is more about individual leaders heading up different branches rather than a strict hereditary system.



Actor Hong Yuzhou.

The Hong surname is another interesting piece of the puzzle. There’s a 'Hongmen' (Hong branch) within the Khufiyya that originated from the Hong family. It’s influential around Tongxin County in Ningxia, where the 'Hong Gangzi Gongbei' (a shrine or mausoleum complex for a saint) serves as a major pilgrimage site for believers. The founder, known as 'Grandpa Hong,' is revered by followers who believe he had the power to foresee the future or heal the sick. Even though traditional Islamic theology teaches that Muhammad is the final prophet, in folk religion, these leaders are often seen as having a special, divine-like status.

Looking at the map, the Jahriyya is mostly concentrated in Xihai'gu in Ningxia, Linxia in Gansu, and parts of Qinghai, though it eventually spread to Xinjiang, Yunnan, Jilin, Hebei, and Shandong. The Khufiyya has a much wider footprint, stretching across Gansu, Ningxia, Qinghai, Xinjiang, Yunnan, and Sichuan. You could say they’re everywhere.

A funny detail is how people label them. Because of the loud chanting, some people call the Jahriyya the 'New Teaching,' while the older, more traditional Khufiyya is sometimes called the 'Old Teaching.' But that’s not really accurate—both groups have tons of internal branches, so you can’t just split them into 'new' and 'old.'

At the end of the day, both the Jahriyya and Khufiyya are just unique forms of Sufism that took root in China, and they’re both essential parts of the Muslim experience here. Whether they pray out loud or in silence, the end goal is always the same: showing reverence and piety to Allah. They just have different methods, distinct personalities, and unique histories.



It’s not surprising that people get them mixed up. They both deal with Sufism, they’re both in the Northwest, and they’re both Muslim. But just remember: Jahriyya = Loud, Khufiyya = Silent. Once you combine that with their historical differences, it’s a lot easier to keep them straight.

Ultimately, the menhuan system is a product of Chinese Islamic localization—a way Sufi philosophy put down roots in the soil of Northwest China. Both the Jahriyya and Khufiyya carry the hopes and faith of generations of Muslims, serving as a unique cultural marker of the region. Families like the Mas and the Hongs played huge roles in this evolution, and their stories are a massive part of this history. Now, when you hear those names, you’ll definitely be in the know. view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out these 20 photos of the Yuzhong Street Mosque (masjid), a hidden gem tucked between Gaolan Road and Pingliang Road right by the downtown Center Plaza in Lanzhou. This post also dives into the history of Sufi traditions in Islam and the unique architectural style of the historic 'menhuan' (Sufi brotherhood) mosques found throughout the Northwest.

The Yuzhong Street Mosque in Lanzhou is a Sufi masjid. While it isn't currently under the administration of the Dongchuan Gongbei (a major Sufi shrine complex), it remains a key site for the Jahriyya (a Sufi order) in the city. Located between Gaolan Road and Pingliang Road near the Center Plaza, you can easily walk straight north from the gate to reach the Guofang Department Store. 'Sufi' comes from the Arabic term for 'wool.' Early Sufis were known for their asceticism, choosing a life of poverty and self-discipline, which led them to wear rough wool garments. Back in the late 7th century, some Muslims in Iraq were fed up with the luxury and corruption of the Umayyad Dynasty court. Inspired by ascetic teachings in the Quran, they practiced poverty and self-denial as a form of quiet protest, eventually evolving into the mystical branch known as Sufism.



Sufis believe that Allah is eternal beauty and that the path to reaching Allah is through love—the core essence of Sufism. They believe that you can only know Allah through deep inner spiritual practice and intuition, aiming to reach a state of 'selflessness' through love and meditation, hoping to become one with Allah. Sufism views Allah and all of nature as one, often leaning toward pantheism. Because early Sufis weren't always focused on orthodox rituals or traditional legal practices, they were sometimes seen as heretical by others. In the 11th century, the influential Islamic scholar Al-Ghazali integrated mystical thought into orthodox theology, helping Sufism grow into a structured mystical doctrine that transitioned from individual practice to organized spiritual lodges. By the 12th century, highly organized orders (tariqas) emerged with varying rituals. The leaders of these orders provided paths and stages for disciples to follow, guiding them toward union with Allah. During ceremonies, believers form circles to chant the name of Allah—sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly—and occasionally include music, singing, dancing, or even whirling and jumping. A shared characteristic of the order is a strong emphasis on saints (wali) and their shrines (gongbei), as well as the use of prayer beads (tasbih). By the 1880s, the movement had about 1.5 to 3 million followers mainly across North Africa, though it saw a decline by the early 20th century. view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out these five photos documenting the historic Guanchuan (also known as Guanchuan) Daotang site in Dingxi, Gansu Province, which shows the significant grounds and architecture where early teaching and dawah (preaching) of the Jahriyya Sufi order took place in Northwest China during the mid-18th century.

These are the historical sites where Ma Mingxin, the founding patriarch of the Jahriyya order, carried out his missionary work at the Guanchuan Daotang in Dingxi.

Real-life site showcase. view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out these 20 photos capturing the Eid al-Adha celebrations in Dahuicun (formerly known as Dadonggou), located in Hexi Town, Tonghai County, Yuxi City, Yunnan. We’re diving into the history of the Hui Muslims who migrated from the Northwest during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty to settle in Southern Yunnan, showcasing the traditions and rituals of this mountain-locked community.

When I first read about Dadonggou, I pictured a massive valley tucked between mountains, but seeing it in person, I realized it’s really just a village. It’s wild to think that a century and a half ago, a few thousand Hui fighters managed to hold their own against ten thousand Qing soldiers for three years right here in this tiny spot.



To be fair, Dadonggou isn’t exactly a mountain gorge; it’s a flat plain surrounded by mountains, which we call a 'bazi' in the Yunnan dialect. The area where the Hui Muslims live, Dahuicun in Hexi Town, Yuxi, sits right up against the edge of these mountains.



Back in 1781, after the Jahriyya uprising led by Su 43 failed, the male descendants of the Jahriyya founder, Ma Mingxin, were exiled to Yunnan. His eldest son, Ma Shunqing (revered as Talang Taiye), survived by living in exile in Talang Village (modern-day Mojiang County, Pu'er City). By the 1850s, Ma Shunqing’s sons moved to Dadonggou, making it the hub for the Jahriyya sect in Yunnan. Shortly after, during the chaos of the anti-Hui massacres in the region, the Dadonggou Jahriyya followers rose up in rebellion, coordinating with the Zhongyitang insurgents in Dali until the fall of the movement following Du Wenxiu’s death.



I was invited by a friend to spend Eid al-Adha (the Festival of Sacrifice) at Dahuicun. My friend’s family are descendants of Talang Taiye, and I was lucky enough to see the historic records they keep and join them at the local mosque to hear the 'Muhammas' (a type of devotional poetry praising the Prophet). Staying at their home, I noticed their living space was simple yet orderly—it felt so much like my own home that it honestly made me a bit nostalgic.



The next day, after performing wudu (the ritual washing before prayer), I headed up to the Donggou Gongbei (a shrine dedicated to a Sufi saint) to pay my respects at the tomb of Shuhai Dayi. After the prayers were finished, we headed over to their relatives' place for the Qurbani (the ritual sacrifice). After the feast, I headed back to Kunming. view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out these 13 real-life photos exploring the Taoshuping Mosque nestled in the mountains of Donggang Town, Chengguan District, Lanzhou. This grassroots mosque was built through the joint fundraising efforts of local Hui Muslims, quietly standing right by Beizhan Road in Hongshangens to showcase its unique architectural layout and down-to-earth community vibe.

If you make a right turn uphill from the Taoshuping gas station in Donggang Town, Lanzhou, and head just a bit down Beizhan Road toward Hongshangen along Taoshuping, you will hit the entrance of the mosque. Honestly, if you didn't ask a local, you'd never find it—even though if you stand right outside the main hall of the Donggang Mosque down at the foot of the mountain, you can actually see this mosque up on Taoshuping mountain across the way.



The Taoshuping Mosque is a multi-menhuan (Sufi order) mosque mainly rooted in the Jahriyya tradition, meaning it follows Jahriyya practices during spiritual devotion, though it isn't under the direct management of Lanzhou's Dong Da Gongbei. The local jama'at (congregation) runs on a pretty tight budget, which you can easily tell just by looking at the modest scale of the mosque and the financial capacity of the local community.



The Taoshuping Mosque is located in Taoshuping, Lanzhou City, Gansu Province. Tucked away far from the noisy downtown, it leans against the Gaolan Mountain range to the south, overlooks the eastward flow of the Yellow River to the north, and gazes out at the Lanzhou city skyline to the west, all surrounded by lush green trees—making it a super peaceful and clean spot.



The mosque was first built back in 1956, and after the Third Plenary Session of the 11th Central Committee of the Party, they rebuilt the main prayer hall, scripture study rooms, ablution water rooms, and dormitories. It’s a smaller mosque built upon the initiative and care of Elder Liu, set up simply to make daily religious life more convenient for the local Muslim community, featuring a simple flat-roofed main prayer hall.



The entire mosque covers an area of about 1 mu (around 667 square meters), with the main prayer hall taking up 60 square meters, bringing the total building area of the complex to 1,000 square meters. It serves 42 households totaling 160 people, all of whom are Hui Muslims following the Jahriyya religious traditions. view all

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Join me for a look at 20 real-life photos exploring the Shehede Gongbei (tomb complex) and Masjid (mosque) located at Jincheng Pass on the northern bank of the Yellow River in Lanzhou, Gansu. We’re diving into the history surrounding events from 1781 during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty, documenting the traditional brick-and-wood architectural style and the prayer halls built right into the mountainside.

This Gongbei is tucked away in Lanzhou’s Jincheng Pass. It serves as a memorial shrine for Saima, the foster daughter of the Jahriyya founder, Ma Mingxin. When Ma Mingxin faced persecution in Lanzhou, Saima led a group of women known as the Hawandani at Jincheng Pass, coordinating an attack on the city of Lanzhou alongside Su Shisan of the Jahriyya order. The conflict was incredibly brutal. During one battle, Saima and her female soldiers faced off against the Qing army, reportedly taking down nine Qing military officers. Saima and her husband personally decapitated the officers and displayed their heads on poles to strike fear into the Qing forces. However, they were eventually overwhelmed by sheer numbers, and Saima, her husband, and all the women of the Hawandani were killed in the fighting.



Jahriyya is a transliteration of an Arabic term that can be translated as "public," "loud," or "reciting aloud." The group advocates for the loud recitation of the dhikr (remembrance of Allah), which is why they are often called the "Loud Recitation School," in contrast to the traditional silent recitation practiced by the Khafiyya order.



The sect was introduced to China during the Qianlong period by Ma Mingxin. Because it gained so much support from impoverished Hui Muslims, it threatened the interests of the older, established religious orders, leading to conflicts with the Khafiyya order. The Qing government handled the situation poorly by favoring the old order and suppressing the new one, which ultimately sparked the Hui uprising led by Su Shisan. Emperor Qianlong labeled the new Jahriyya sect as a "heretical cult." Even after the Tianwu uprising was suppressed and the Qing court banned the sect and implemented local civilian monitoring, they were unable to stop its clandestine growth.



Around the time of the Tongzhi Emperor, the fifth Murshid (spiritual guide) Ma Hualong and Ma Mingxin’s great-grandson, Ma Chenglin (also known as Ma Shenglin), worked to secretly expand the Jahriyya order, leading to a second golden age. However, due to brutal suppression and persecution by the Qing court, the Jahriyya movement was pushed to the brink of extinction, with many Murshids being murdered or exiled. By the time of Ma Yuanzhang, he adopted a strategy of patience and preservation, which helped the Jahriyya school overcome its struggles and eventually experience a revival. view all

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Through candid, on-the-ground photography, we’re documenting the traditional fruit plate customs and historical archives of the Jahriyya order among the Hui Muslims in Northwest China, capturing the simple yet deeply solemn spirit of their festive celebrations and their traditional 'A’mali (religious memorial gatherings) cultural heritage across Ningxia. view all

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A rare glimpse into modern history: Historical photo archives of Zhu De with prominent Hui Muslim religious figures.

Commander Zhu De posing for a photo with high-ranking Jahriyya (a prominent Sufi order in Northwest China) imams. During that era, the Jahriyya community protected and provided critical support for the Communist Party’s underground operations. view all

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This guide covers the lively Eid al-Fitr festivities at the Harbin Daowai Mosque (Arab Square), featuring reviews of seven must-try, crowd-favorite halal spots on 12th Street and beyond, highlighting traditional delicacies like hui-tou (pan-seared meat pockets), shaomai (steamed dumplings), ba-rou (braised beef), and freshly fried you-xiang (traditional deep-fried dough).

Hey everyone, welcome to Xiao Mei’s Amusement Park!

Today, I’m walking through the streets and alleys to share some classic, authentic local shops in Harbin.

March 21, 2026, marks the annual celebration of Eid al-Fitr.

The Harbin Daowai Mosque is, as expected,

packed just like every year with Muslim friends celebrating the holiday,

along with plenty of locals who are just huge fans of halal food.

The Daowai Mosque stands as the heart of Harbin’s halal food scene,

with everything centered right around the mosque square,

where all kinds of delicious halal eats gather.

This year, they aren't allowing vendors to set up stalls directly on the square like in the past,

so everything is being sold from storefronts, but the vendors have brought out all their specialties,

calling out to customers at their doors, and it’s still super lively and absolutely packed with people.

Today, I’m going to break down the seven must-eat halal spots for anyone planning to visit.

The food around the mosque is mostly concentrated in three areas: the square entrance, 12th Street, and the Yumin Street market.

1) Wanzi Zhang: A shop specializing in halal beef meatballs and jia-sha (savory meat-stuffed tofu).



Located right next to the mosque square gate, it’s basically an internet-famous spot, mainly selling jia-sha, meat pies, and meatballs.



2) Gu Xiang Ji (Bone-Fragrant Chicken)



Photo credit: @Yi Lu Qian Xing

Located on 12th Street behind the mosque square, this is the most food-dense little street. It’s right outside the mosque subway station, packed tightly with all sorts of small halal shops selling a bit of everything.



The first shop, Gu Xiang Ji, is a long-standing spot on this street. The roasted chicken is seasoned with cumin and spices, a bit on the salty side, but smells incredible and is perfect with a drink.

3) Gui Yue Zhai Twist Shop



Just one shop over from Gu Xiang Ji, marked by a green sign. They mainly sell traditional, crispy halal fried dough twists and fried sweet cakes.

4) Bai Li Kai Flour Shop



Photo credit: @Yi Lu Qian Xing

Moving further down, there’s a halal flour-based food shop. They usually sell meat pies, hui-tou (pan-seared meat pockets), and dumplings. Today, they have fresh fried you-xiang, and the line is pretty long.



5) Jiang Xiang Yuan



If you’re looking for halal smoked and braised meats, there’s a shop at the corner selling a huge variety, including braised beef, beef tendon, beef cartilage, lamb liver, and beef red sausage.

6) Ha-Hui Qing Xiang Cun



Right across from the small street and the mosque subway exit, you’ll find the two titans of Harbin’s halal pastry scene: Ha-Hui Qing Xiang Cun and Sha Ji Sai Suo.



Older folks in Harbin might have a soft spot for this one. They specialize in all kinds of halal pastries, and their mooncakes and yuan-xiao (sweet glutinous rice balls) are quite famous.

7) Sha Ji Sai Suo



This was my personal favorite growing up. They have quite a few chain stores in Harbin now. Their chilled rice cakes, pineapple cookies, taro balls, and hawthorn squares are all super tasty.



If you keep walking down 12th Street, you’ll reach the Yumin Street market. While street stalls aren't allowed on the main square for Eid, they are allowed here. People are selling lamb skewers, baked buns, naan bread, and shou-zhua yang-rou (hand-grabbed lamb). It’s crowded and smoky, but full of life.

If you’re into this kind of vibe, you should definitely give it a try.

This street also has many vendors selling fresh halal beef, lamb, and thinly sliced meat rolls.



Eid al-Fitr is only for one day, so some merchants have special promotions. There are many small vendors at the Yumin Street market, and most will stay open until 8:00 or 9:00 tonight.

Don't even think about driving—the subway station is already impossible to get into.

The storefront businesses are there all year round, so if you’re worried about the crowds, you can visit on any other day. view all

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This 18-photo guide breaks down the thousand-year history of Beijing's Niu Jie in Xicheng District, from the construction of the Niu Jie Mosque in 996 AD and its transformation from 'Liu Jie' (Pomegranate Street) into a major Hui Muslim hub, to a deep dive into iconic Halal eats like douzhier (fermented mung bean milk) with jiaoquan (fried dough rings), ludagun (rolling donkey/glutinous rice rolls), aiwowo (steamed rice cakes), baodu (quick-boiled tripe), and beef and lamb shaomai (steamed dumplings).



Niu Jie in Beijing's Xicheng District is the city's most famous Hui Muslim neighborhood and a legendary street for Halal food, where deep historical roots meet a vibrant, everyday local vibe.



From 'Liu Jie' to 'Niu Jie'

Niu Jie is the oldest Hui Muslim enclave in Beijing, taking shape during the Song and Yuan dynasties. Its heart, the Niu Jie Mosque, dates all the way back to 996 AD, marking a thousand years of history.

It was originally called 'Liu Jie' (Pomegranate Street) because of the pomegranate orchards that used to grow there. Over time, the name shifted due to similar pronunciation and the fact that many local Hui Muslims worked in the butchery trade, leading to the name 'Niu Jie' (Ox/Beef Street).

Must-Try Snacks and Heritage Shops

This area is packed with top-tier Halal food, so definitely show up on an empty stomach.

Hongji Snack Shop: Their beef/lamb and green onion baozi (steamed buns) are the star of the show at about 2.5 yuan each—they’ve got super thin skin, tons of filling, and are incredibly juicy. They also serve dozens of other snacks like zhagao (deep-fried cakes) and yaqianrou (meat on toothpicks).













Jubaoyuan: Famous for their charcoal copper-pot hot pot. The hand-sliced lamb stays tender no matter how long you boil it, and their sesame paste shao bing (baked flatbread) is a total game-changer. During meal times, expect lines for their beef baozi, baodu fun (tripe with vermicelli), and grilled lamb skewers.







Baoji Douzhier: A classic spot for authentic Beijing douzhier (fermented mung bean milk). Known for its sharp, tangy, and thick profile, it’s best enjoyed with jiaoquan (fried dough rings) and shredded pickled vegetables. It’s a go-to experience for anyone wanting to taste real traditional Beijing snack culture.















Baiji Niangao: They specialize in ludagun (glutinous rice rolls coated in soybean flour), wandouhuang (pea flour cakes), and all kinds of niangao (sticky rice cakes). Everything is soft, chewy, and sweet, with generous bean paste fillings that hit the spot without being too sugary.

Yibao Heyezenggao: Their zenggao (steamed rice cake) is made with red dates, honey beans, and sticky rice. It’s got a rich, aromatic date flavor and is best eaten warm while soft and chewy.

Other recommendations: Laochengyi’s yangxiezi (lamb spine hot pot), Xiangyunxuan’s men ding rou bing (nail-head shaped meat pies with thin skin and juicy filling), and Manji’s beef shao bing (baked flatbread) and fried chicken are all totally worth checking out.

Best time to go: Try to head over on a weekday or early in the morning to dodge the weekend crowds. Just make sure you save plenty of room in your stomach—one trip to Niu Jie is never enough to try everything.

Getting there: You can take Subway Line 19 to Niu Jie Station; the street is right outside the exit. If you’re driving, just plug 'Niu Jie' into your GPS, but be prepared—parking is tight.

A quick reminder: Please be respectful of Hui Muslim customs and don’t bring any non-Halal food into the area.

If you’re a tourist and you find douzhier a bit much at first, you can grab a douzhier combo set at Hongji Snack Shop or pick up canned versions at Baoji Douzhier to try on your own time.

Once you can handle the taste of douzhier, you’re basically a 'true Beijinger'!

The real charm of Niu Jie isn’t just in the food—it’s in the bustling, down-to-earth atmosphere and the genuine energy of the people living here.

(All photos above were taken with a Huawei phone.) view all

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Check out these 25 photos from my day of eating my way through the Niu Street Muslim snack district in Beijing with a good friend. We hit up the century-old Zhengxingde tea house for their traditional paper-wrapped scented tea, swung by the stalls for Hongji and Baiji niangao (sticky rice cakes), tried the Yibao lotus leaf-steamed zhengao (steamed sticky rice cake), and grabbed some hot, authentic Beijing-style halal food.

Had some free time.

Suddenly got the urge to explore, so I hit up my bestie and we headed straight for Niu Street.



Once we got there and looked around, it was wall-to-wall people buying all kinds of snacks.

I really wanted to grab some niangao, zhagao (fried dough cakes), lamb skewers, and deli meats, but the lines were at least an hour long, so I decided to pass.











I was too chicken to try the baodu fen (tripe with vermicelli). I've never had it in my life and wasn't really feeling it, and honestly, it didn't look like the people eating it were having an amazing time either.



I poked my head into the Niu Street Muslim tea shop, Zhengxingde. I’m a huge fan of their cold-brewed osmanthus oolong tea; you can get half a jin (250g) for 150 RMB, and they wrap it up the old-school way with paper and string.



Jinfang was absolutely packed, so I just took a photo from a distance. I’m obsessed with their yuanxiao (sweet sticky rice balls). Every flavor is a winner—the filling and the dough are just perfect. If you’ve had them, you know: it’s that kind of authentic, unforgettable taste that keeps you craving more. No need to say too much, I’ll definitely be back for the Lantern Festival to grab my fix.







Right next door is Yueshengzhai, and their fat beef is my absolute favorite.





I took a stroll through the Niu Street Halal Food Market. It had that classic, old-school grocery store vibe—super nostalgic.





Jubaoyuan is always popping no matter which location you go to; it’s hands down the best for hotpot, and the meat quality is top-tier. I took photos of their menu and hours, but since it was super busy today, I’ll come back for hotpot when it’s less crowded.







I snapped a photo of Hongji from across the street and headed over there later.



We walked toward Shuru Hutong where it was a bit quieter. It wasn't completely empty, and some shops still had lines, especially the ones selling various shaobing (baked flatbreads) and baozi (steamed buns).

There were also fresh beef and lamb shops and meat markets lined up one after another.

Manji had a massive line too.



After walking around and getting tired, I headed back toward Hongji and bought some cumin-flavored gezihe (crispy fried mung bean crepes).







Finally, I popped into a beef noodle shop, slurped down a bowl, and called it a day. view all

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Come check out this hidden gem of a halal food spot located on the ground floor of Building 30, Yongtai Xili in Beijing’s Haidian District. I’ve put together an 11-photo review of their signature made-to-order beef pies that are crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside, along with their traditional halal breakfast items—perfect for discovering some authentic, local flavors right under a residential building.

The Qinghe area is usually a total food desert. I’ve searched everywhere for a decent spot, but nothing has ever lived up to the dumplings we had over twenty years ago, so I’d pretty much given up. To my surprise, this little shop popped up right in my neighborhood, and it’s been a total game-changer. Lately, I’ve been eating two meals a day here—fueling up for work in the morning and grabbing a filling meal before heading home to sleep. It looks like this is going to be my new routine for a while.



The place doesn't even have a sign, which just shows how confident they are in their food. It’s been open for two months now, and while it might not be a viral sensation, it has definitely established itself. It’s positioned as a neighborhood canteen for the locals. Compared to all those trendy 'Haidian-style' spots, the neighborhood seniors actually prefer eating here. It’s not about who’s cheaper or more expensive; it’s about feeling comfortable and familiar. People just feel out of place in those flashy, over-the-top restaurants.



I’ve been in and out of this shop so many times now that I’ve basically tried everything on the menu. There’s a lot to love, no real duds, and you can easily find your personal go-to dish.

The beef baozi (steamed buns) and tangyoubing (sugar-coated fried dough) are both 3 yuan each. The beef baozi are just as good as the ones in Niujie—the size and the filling are both solid. If you’re looking for baozi in the Qinghe area, don’t overthink it; these are the best you’re going to get.



You’ve got to eat the tangyoubing right when it comes out of the fryer; it’s pointless once it goes soggy. Pairing it with a cup of soy milk (2 yuan) is the standard move. A 5-yuan breakfast like this can keep you full until dinner.

I had a tangyoubing yesterday and noticed it didn't have sesame seeds! Was I just getting used to it and they changed the recipe, or did they just forget? The version with sesame is way more fragrant—it’s a great touch that really makes it unique, so they should definitely keep it.



Both the beef pie and the doupao tang (tofu puff soup) are 5 yuan. The soup comes with a generous serving of tofu puffs, and you can help yourself to the seasonings. The lamb offal soup is 15 yuan, and millet porridge is 2 yuan—something for every budget. A bowl of lamb offal soup is definitely too much for breakfast and not great to eat every single day, but a bowl of millet porridge with some baozi is another solid 5-yuan combo.



The miancha (savory flour tea) is 5 yuan. It’s not mind-blowing—it’s a mix of broomcorn millet and foxtail millet—but it hits the spot, and you can add as much sesame paste as you want. The zhagao (fried rice cake) is also 3 yuan and nothing special, mainly because I’m comparing it to the one at Jing San Pang. If you want the real deal, go to Xisanqi, though I heard they’re moving. They’re expanding too fast after just getting started—it’s risky, and you can’t always hit the mark every time.



The doufunao (soft tofu pudding) is 4 yuan and comes in a huge portion with a rich meat-based broth. It’s good, but it’s hard to finish if you’re also having a tangyoubing. Better to just get the bowl by itself or pair it with a sesame shaobing (sesame flatbread) for 1.5 yuan. Plus, the pickled vegetables are free.

Half of the storefront is actually occupied by the original Li’s Shaobing, which has been here for over 20 years. It’s one of the last remaining culinary legends of Yongtai.



Aside from breakfast, they serve proper meals too. You’ll have no problem getting full on their baozi, dumplings, or noodles. The zhajiangmian (noodles with soybean paste) is 16 yuan a bowl, and the dumplings are 25 yuan—standard market prices.

They also have deli meats if you’re interested. The sheep head meat is 36 yuan per jin (500g). Get half a jin, dip it in some peppercorn salt, and it’s as good as any boiled mutton you’ll find anywhere. It’s the perfect snack with a beer in the summer or tucked into a sesame shaobing when it’s chilly out.



The suwanzi (vegetarian fried meatballs) are 12 yuan a jin—a great side for a drink. I’ve been dying to try the zha songrou (deep-fried crispy pork slices), but they’re never available when I’m there. Honestly, dishes like that are better left to the pros; making them at home is way too much of a hassle.

It’s a great place for a casual meal when you’re with a group and want something to chat over.



The Jingdong roubing (Jingdong-style meat pie) is 26 yuan.

It’s a solid deal, enough for two people, though a bit heavy for just one. It’s made to order, and while it’s the most expensive main dish on the menu, it’s perfect for sharing with two or three friends. Each person gets a few slices, and you’re good to go.

The taste is top-notch, right up there with the baozi filling.



The beef meat pie is 5 yuan.

The beef pie is my absolute favorite. During dinner hours, they’re constantly cooking them fresh to order. The crust is just right, and the filling is generous. The meat is tender and firm, not dry at all—it’s pretty much the ideal meat pie. The only minor downside is that the crust from the electric griddle looks a bit too 'clean' for my taste.

The reason it looks so clean is that it doesn't leak. It’s packed with so much juice that it wouldn't survive a thinner crust. You get almost half a plate of broth when you cut into it; if you’re not careful, it’ll spill everywhere. Honestly, these 'soup-filled' pies are even better than xiaolongbao (soup dumplings).



The amount of juice and the tenderness of the meat are on par with the famous Mending meat pies, just in a different shape. You get more dough than a Mending pie, just as much meat, and it’s cheaper, too. I can’t believe this kind of value is right at my doorstep. No need to hunt for pies all over the city anymore—two meat pies for 10 yuan makes for a pretty great dinner, don’t you think?

They have a self-serve condiment station with garlic sauce, chili oil, and vinegar. Perfection.

I haven’t tried their zhajiangmian or dalumian (noodles with gravy) yet. I’m sure they’re decent, but I didn't want to overdo it since the portions are huge. I’ll give them a shot eventually when I’m feeling up to it. view all

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Join a local Hohhot expert as we walk down Tongdao South Street in the Hui Muslim District, surrounded by the scents of shaomai (steamed meat dumplings), beizi (leavened flatbread), and youxiang (deep-fried flour dough). We’re exploring the Grand Mosque of Hohhot, built in the 32nd year of the Kangxi Emperor’s reign, to share the heartwarming history of how the Hui, Han, and Mongol communities have looked out for one another for over three hundred years.

I'm 'Grassland Mama,' a Han Chinese woman who grew up in the pastoral regions.

We’ve looked through a lot of old photos of Hohhot together before—seeing the early days of Xinhua Square and Xiaozhao Front Street, and remembering the old temples and bustling markets that have since disappeared.

Today, let’s head into Tongdao South Street in the Hui Muslim District and chat about the Grand Mosque that’s been rooted in the middle of this busy area, standing by the 'Blue City' through centuries of history.

A lot of friends who have visited Hohhot have walked through this neighborhood.

01 Location

As you walk down the alley, you’re hit with the smell of beizi, lamb offal, and youxiang. It’s packed with people and super lively.

But turn a few corners, and the noise suddenly fades away. Behind those blue-brick walls, you’ll find the Grand Mosque.

Many people just pass by, snap a quick photo, and keep moving, never realizing this ancient mosque has been standing here quietly for over three hundred years.



02 Age and Architecture

The Grand Mosque was built during the Qing Dynasty and is one of the oldest mosques in Hohhot history.

Unlike the exotic-style mosques we might expect, it’s actually really unique—the main structure is designed like a classical Chinese pavilion with feiyan dougong (flying eaves and traditional wooden brackets) that give it the heavy, grounded feel of northern ancient architecture. If you look closely at the walls and the gate towers, the intricate brick carvings and patterns incorporate traditional Islamic motifs as well.

These two styles blend together perfectly without clashing at all, just like this city itself—inclusive and gentle.



03 Moon-Watching Tower

The most unforgettable part of the mosque is the Moon-Watching Tower. It stands tall right in the middle of the courtyard, rising up level by level, looking delicate and refined.

The older generation says that back when there were no precise calendars, the imam would climb the tower on important dates to spot the new moon and determine the festival schedule. This little tower was once the 'timekeeper' for these streets, setting the rhythm for the whole neighborhood.

For hundreds of years, through wind and sun, the wooden tower has stood here quietly, watching generations of people come and go.

04 The Pulse of Life

A lot of people wonder how such an ancient mosque could be tucked away in the middle of a busy city.

Actually, that’s exactly what makes the 'old' Hohhot so moving.

Outside the walls, it’s the real-life hustle of the city: vendors shouting, bicycle bells ringing, neighbors chatting, and the smells of street food drifting on the breeze. Inside the walls, it’s peaceful and quiet, with trees and silence that are perfect for clearing your mind.

Separated by just one wall, you have the chaotic bustle of humanity on one side and quiet, solemn peace on the other—noise and stillness have lived together like this for centuries.

I know quite a few elderly people living nearby who grew up right in this area.

They say that when they were kids, the mosque felt especially solemn on important holidays. The neighbors looked out for each other; if a family had something going on, everyone in the alley would pitch in to help.

The mosque wasn’t just a place for prayer (dua); it was the spiritual home for the Hui community here and the glue that held the neighborhood’s warmth together.

During holidays, the smell of youxiang and sanzi (deep-fried crispy dough twists) would fill the whole street, and neighbors would exchange food regardless of their ethnic background—it was so warm and heartfelt.



After living in Hohhot for so long, I often feel that a city’s foundation isn’t just its skyscrapers or wide roads, but these old buildings hidden in the alleyways. They aren't showy; they just stay quiet, witnessing the changes in the city generation after generation.

The old dirt roads turned into asphalt, the low-rise houses slowly turned into apartment buildings, and the transportation on the streets shifted from horse carts and vintage '28-inch' bicycles to cars.

Only the Grand Mosque’s blue bricks and flying eaves have kept watch over this old street, keeping watch over this local life.

05 Final Thoughts

The Grand Mosque today is still open to the public.

When you walk into the courtyard, there’s no noise. The old trees sprout new leaves every year, and you can see the marks of time worn into the blue bricks.

Many tourists come here to check it off their list, while nearby residents often stop by, stand at the entrance for a moment, and just feel a sense of calm.

Friends often ask me, 'If I come to Hohhot, where is the best place to truly understand this city?'

I always recommend taking a walk here.

You don’t have to rush, and you don’t have to hurry to take pictures. Just buy a fresh beizi from the alley outside, take in that familiar scent, and then slowly walk up to the courtyard wall to look at the eaves and the brick carvings.

You’ll understand that Hohhot has never been just one thing.

The vastness of the grassland, the weight of the ancient city, and the coexistence of different ethnic groups are all hidden in this single piece of old architecture.

Three hundred years of time have flowed by; the streets have changed their look, but this inclusive, peaceful vibe has always remained.

The ancient mosque says nothing. It has watched the days turn from dawn to dusk, seen the seasons revolve, and witnessed this city, Hohhot, moving forward with such grace. view all

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A deep dive into the budget-friendly Halal dining scene run by a Shanghai state-owned enterprise: here is the lowdown on the Shanghai Halal Food Company’s public canteen and their signature free beef broth.

I’ve put together 17 on-site photos documenting the Halal dining outlets and snack shops managed by the Shanghai Halal Food Company. This includes a look at their affordable Halal beef and lamb dishes, freshly made dim sum, and that rich, savory beef broth they serve up for free.

The beef broth is totally free, by the way!

























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Check out the snack shop! view all

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Check out these 8 high-def guides covering all the Halal restaurants and local snack spots inside Xi'an's major malls like Saige International, Qujiang Joy City, CityOn, and Lao Cheng Gen G Park. It’s your one-stop shop for finding easy, delicious Halal meals while you're out shopping or sightseeing.

I’ve put together this list of all the go-to Halal eateries and street food spots in Xi'an’s hottest shopping centers. If you know of any other awesome Halal places in these malls, feel free to drop them in the comments!

Real-life photos and videos: view all

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Check out these 14 photos as we explore the Dharumavantha Rasgefaanu Mosque, one of the oldest mosques in Male, the capital of the Maldives. We’re diving into the history of how the first Muslim Sultan of the Maldives converted in 1153 AD, and checking out the incredible coral stone carvings and the remains of an ancient well.

The full name of this mosque is the Dharumavantha Rasgefaanu Mosque (see photo 2). That name is a mouthful, but according to the local Maldivian language, Dhivehi, it translates to 'the merciful and noble monarch.' So, I’ve just been calling it the 'Benevolent King Mosque' for short. Historical records show it’s one of the oldest mosques in the Maldives, dating back to around 1153 AD, named after the country's first Muslim ruler.



This 'Benevolent King' was Sultan Muhammad Ibn Abdullah—you can tell from his name that he took it upon himself to change it after his conversion. He was already the king of the Maldives, but after being persuaded by a Muslim scholar from North Africa, he embraced Islam, officially kicking off the country’s Islamic history.



Back to the mosque itself: it’s actually located really close to the Friday Mosque I mentioned in my last post; it’s just a quick walk away.



Inside the courtyard, there’s an old well (photo 3), along with faucets and restrooms so you can perform wudu (ablution) properly. The prayer hall features a small porch with space on either side for dua (prayer) (photo 6). Once you step inside the main hall, you can really tell it’s an ancient structure. The ceilings are pretty low—I guess people in the Maldives back then weren’t that tall, so it doesn’t feel claustrophobic at all. The wood carvings on the ceiling are super intricate (photo 11), though the whole place is definitely smaller than the Friday Mosque I shared earlier. If you’re curious, check out my other post on the Maldivian Friday Mosque that I linked in the comments.



If you’re looking to get a feel for what ancient Maldivian architecture was like, this is a cool spot to check out. Or, you can head over to the Friday Mosque, which is a bit more tourist-friendly. view all

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Check out these 12 stunning photos of the Huashi Mosque, a Ming Dynasty gem tucked away near Chongwenmen in Beijing’s Dongcheng District. Originally built in the 13th year of the Yongle Emperor’s reign, this historic spot features an original 'Qingzhen' (pure and true) wooden plaque gifted by Emperor Kangxi, a 'Zhen Yi Wu Er' (The One and Only Truth) tablet from Emperor Qianlong, and vibrant Ming Dynasty xuanzi (swirling pattern) paintings, all showing off a beautiful blend of Chinese and Islamic architecture.

The Huashi Mosque has been standing tall in Beijing for 600 years. Founded in the 13th year of the Ming Yongle era, its graceful, solemn Qing-style architecture covers 2,000 square meters. It’s way more than just a place for dua; it’s like stepping through a time portal to see how Beijing’s history and faith have intertwined over the centuries.



As you walk inside, you’re greeted by the Kangxi and Qianlong imperial plaques, which are packed with cool calligraphy and religious history. The paintings in the main prayer hall are still as vibrant as ever, and the poetic couplets lining the walls really stand out. It’s an amazing collision of Chinese and Islamic vibes where you can still feel the craftsmanship of the artisans from hundreds of years ago.



The main hall spans over 1,000 square meters with a brilliant, massive layout. What makes it even cooler is that it’s open 24/7 all year round. Whether it’s early morning or late at night, you can just walk in and find some peace. If you’re into ancient architecture and culture, this mosque is just waiting for you to come and soak in the echoes of the past.



#BeijingWeekend #History #IslamicHeritage view all

[Internet Repost]

We’ve put together a list of the must-eat Halal restaurants in Beijing across districts like Dongcheng, Xicheng, Chaoyang, and Haidian, covering classic legends and trendy spots like Nanmen Shuanrou near the Temple of Heaven, Zhungeer Xinjiang Cuisine, Jubaoyuan’s hand-sliced copper pot hot pot on Niujie, and the old-school Lao Xi'an Restaurant in Xinjiekou.

Dongcheng District



Nanmen Shuanrou (Temple of Heaven Branch): A 32-year-old staple. This is the original hot pot spot with plenty of branches, though it's always packed with a line.



Zhungeer Xinjiang Cuisine (Longtan Branch): This is the official office restaurant for the Shihezi government in Beijing. Their signature dish is the bread-wrapped lamb leg, and it's located near Longtan Park—expect a wait.



Xicheng District



Jubaoyuan (Niujie Flagship): They’ve been perfecting their copper pot hot pot for over 30 years, and their hand-sliced lamb is always consistently thin and tender.



Lao Xi'an Restaurant (Xinjiekou South Street Branch): Open since 1954, this is a spot locals swear by. Beyond their famous paomo (pita bread soaked in lamb soup), their stir-fried dishes are also solid.



Niujie Da Lübao Roast Lamb Leg (Niujie Main Store): They use a traditional fruit-wood charcoal oven to roast the meat, making the skin crispy while the inside stays super juicy.



Niujie Qingzhen Manhengji (Ping'anli West Street Branch): This place is legendary for the lines. They source lamb directly from Sunite, Inner Mongolia, and their sesame paste sugar pancakes are famous for that oozing, molten filling.



Chaoyang District



Ma Aisa Niula (Jiangtai Road): A beef noodle spot recommended by celebrities. The hand-pulled noodles have a perfect chew, and their chili oil is super fragrant without being overly spicy.



Musefeilin Xinjiang Restaurant (Pileyuan Branch): They serve zhafan (lamb pilaf) that’s literally glistening with flavor. It’s not too far from the Joy City mall in Chaoyang.

Ritan Shuanrou (Ritan Park Branch): Located near the embassy area by Ritan Park, this spot features personal individual pots—it's a great vibe eating copper-pot hot pot in a traditional siheyuan (courtyard house).

Xiting Xiuse Turkish Feast (Xinyuanli Branch): This is the Turkish government office restaurant in Beijing, and the interior design gives off a really cool, authentic exotic vibe.

Manfulou Halal Hot Pot (Qiaofu Branch): Experience the classic Beijing food culture in a copper pot; they’ve maintained the same great flavor for over 30 years.

Fengtai District

Wanping Liji Snacks (Dongguan Street Branch): Located right next to Wanping City, this spot has been serving affordable and delicious Halal snacks for nearly 30 years.

Haidian District

Xinjiang Bazhou Jinseite Restaurant (Dazhongsi Branch): The official Bazhou government restaurant. They use traditional oven-roasting techniques, and the meat is incredibly tender and firm.

Chaisi Fengweizhai (Ganjiakou Branch): This place uses a secret braising broth passed down through three generations; the noodles are firm and the beef is melt-in-your-mouth tender.

Changping District

Lao Yangjia Halal Cuisine (Yangfang Branch): A hidden gem for Halal food in Changping. If you’re heading out to the suburbs, definitely stop by and try their signature garlic-braised lamb kidneys.

Mentougou District

Tanyang Puzi Northern & Southern Xinjiang Specialties (Mentougou Branch): They use tender, juicy Tan sheep from Ningxia and use traditional oven-roasting methods to keep that authentic Xinjiang flavor alive.

How many of these must-try Halal spots have you guys been to?

I’ve only ticked off 8 of them so far, so I'll be posting more notes as I continue my food tour.

Are there any other Halal restaurants you think are absolute musts? Feel free to add them in the comments! view all

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Here is a breakdown of the six best spots to find halal food in Bangkok, including the G-floor food court at Iconsiam, the halal dining level at MBK Center, the Terminal 21 food court, and the vibrant Arab Street and local halal night markets, making it easy for Muslim travelers to navigate their food options.

1. Iconsiam: If you only have time to hit one mall in Bangkok, I highly recommend Iconsiam. It is the perfect blend of Thai food, shopping, and culture, and whether you are on the G-floor or the rooftop, it is super photogenic. There are a few halal stalls on the G-floor; there aren't as many as there were a couple of years ago, likely because the crowd at Iconsiam has become so much more diverse lately.



2. MBK: Located right near that famous Bangkok viral pedestrian bridge, this mall is always packed with Middle Eastern tourists. You will find around 10 different halal eateries clustered on the G-floor.



3. CentralWorld: The market right outside the main entrance of CentralWorld still has several halal stalls. I originally thought this market was just a pop-up event, but it seems to be a permanent fixture.



4. Islamic Centre of Thailand: Every Friday after jummah (Friday prayer), there is a small market here that is super convenient for people grabbing a meal after their dua. It is very affordable, with bowls of noodles costing only a couple of bucks. The neighborhood has a large Muslim community. There are two Muslim-friendly hotels nearby, AL Meroz and Almas (though I don't recommend them because the soundproofing is terrible). Nearby restaurants include the Thai spot Sophia Restaurant, the halal hotpot chains Putonghua and Liyang, and a Korean spot called In Seoul BBQ.



5. The Mall Lifestore Bangkapi: This mall is about a 20-minute drive from Suvarnabhumi Airport. On the third floor, you will find three halal restaurants: La Pizza, and two halal hotpot spots, Putonghua and Liyang. However, I personally prefer the variety of halal snacks on the first floor. This mall attracts a lot of local Muslims and also offers a dedicated prayer room.



6. Ramkhamhaeng Night Market: Open from 6:00 PM to 10:00 PM, but closed on Wednesdays. This is a local favorite, so the prices are great. When I visited two years ago, almost all the snacks were halal, but this time around, there are a few non-halal stalls, so Muslim visitors should be careful and double-check before buying. Most people grab their food to-go or find a spot to sit at a nearby park.



For more halal food recommendations, follow me @AishaExploresHalal, where I keep everything updated. view all

[Internet Repost]

I’ve put together a guide featuring 17 high-quality photos covering the best halal dining spots across the Kansai cities of Nara, Kobe, and Osaka. This review highlights a teppanyaki halal wagyu spot near Nara’s Todai-ji Temple, the halal-friendly Mikazukitei for udon and ramen in Kobe, and various halal eateries around Osaka’s Dotonbori district.

Nara: Todaijimonzen Wanamogi



After hanging out with the deer in Nara, I was starving. I found a halal wagyu place that had a great vibe, though it’s definitely on the pricier side. The chef cooks every dish fresh on a teppan (iron griddle) and really obsesses over the presentation. The wagyu wasn't cooked all the way through; it was super tender, but honestly, it’s not quite my style.



Kobe: Mikazukitei



This is one of the few places in Kobe serving halal Japanese food. They have a pretty decent variety, with sets featuring udon, ramen, and different appetizers. In the summer, they even have limited-edition cold Chinese-style noodles, plus a few Malaysian and Indian options. The shop has 8 tables and fits about 30 people at a time. You have to order at a kiosk, but they do accept WeChat Pay and Alipay. Compared to the restaurants in Kyoto and Osaka, this place is actually a pretty good deal. I had the dry beef noodles—not much broth, but man, it was super salty. Is extreme saltiness just a Japanese thing? I also ordered a combo set; the chicken meatballs were nice and soft. The gyoza (dumplings) had chicken filling, but the skin was so thin the filling kept falling out. The egg didn't really have much flavor. I also grabbed another noodle dish—it smelled great and the portion was generous, but I definitely over-ordered. My only gripe is that it was still way too salty, even though I specifically asked for less salt!



Osaka: Honolu



The Honolu chain has a spot near Shinsaibashi in Osaka. The seating is a bit cramped, but they have a dedicated prayer room, and the food comes out really fast.



The beef in the gyudon (beef bowl) was marinated and had a lot of flavor. The fried wagyu was crispy on the outside, but the meat itself was a bit bland, so it’s much better with the dipping sauce. I went for a milder flavor with the BBQ beef ramen to avoid the saltiness I’d experienced elsewhere, but it still carried that distinct miso base. Just a heads up, this place doesn't allow any outside drinks.



Osaka: Seyhan Kebab



This is a Turkish kebab spot near Tsutenkaku Tower. The shop is tiny, so you can eat outside. They’re open from 11:00 AM to 10:00 PM and only sell beef kebabs. They give you a solid portion of meat and veggies, and it tastes pretty good.



Osaka: Halal Ramen Naniwaya



People were still lining up for this place at nearly 9 PM, which got my hopes up, but the taste was just average—honestly, the pho place next door was better.



The wagyu ramen still had that heavy miso flavor, and you can pick small, medium, or large sizes for your noodles and rice. The wagyu beef bowl seemed to have cheese in it, which gave off this funky smell that totally killed my appetite. After I finished, the owner asked me to leave a review in exchange for a small bag of mochi-like treats. I’m starting to wonder if the ratings here are legit? I don't get it. Note: This place also has a prayer room.



Osaka: PHO ME HALAL RESTAURANT



This Vietnamese spot is right next to the ramen shop. No line, and the food comes out fast. Compared to the salty Japanese-style ramen, this Vietnamese pho was super light and really hit the spot. I ordered the chicken pho with no spice; it was clean, simple, and delicious.



#Halal #JapanHalal #JapanFood #HalalRestaurant #KansaiHalalDining view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out 20 real-life photos covering multiple halal restaurants around Hanoi's Old Quarter and the Hanoi 36 Streets (including Vietnamese halal pho, Southeast Asian flavors, and South Asian spots), complete with practical tips on Hanoi transportation, vibes, and things to watch out for.

(Who Should Skip Hanoi?)



1️⃣ Hanoi isn't for people who love quiet vibes, because the whole Old Quarter is buzzing with the constant honking of motorbikes from morning till night.



2️⃣ Hanoi isn't for germaphobes either. Since the main attractions are jammed into the Old Quarter, it can get pretty messy—even though folks sweep the streets and pick up trash, it definitely doesn't get cleaned up as fast as back home. As for the scooter exhaust, honestly, it didn't feel as intense as Bangkok.



3️⃣ Hanoi isn't for anyone who stares at their phone while walking. The streets in the 36 Streets area are super narrow, motorbikes zoom past constantly, and intersections rarely have traffic lights, so crossing the street is all about lightning-fast reflexes. Don't even bother trying to get aesthetic street style photos here; just snap a couple of good shots at the tourist spots and cafes and call it a day.



4️⃣ Hanoi isn't for people who travel with super rigid checklists. The sights here are pretty small and clustered close together, so it's honestly not worth visiting purely just to tick boxes off a list.



(Who Will Love Hanoi?)



1️⃣ Hanoi is perfect for culture lovers who want to soak up a totally unique vibe. You'll see street vendors wearing conical hats (nón lá) and carrying shoulder poles, locals kicking back on the sidewalk with cold drinks and desserts, and a cool mix of French and Chinese architecture.



2️⃣ Hanoi is amazing for wanderers. Exploring the 36 Streets really showed me what they mean by "all roads lead to Rome"—after roaming around for four days, I still kept stumbling onto totally different streets.



3️⃣ Hanoi is great for people who hate over-planning their trips. Just wandering around the 36 Streets is more than enough; you don't need a heavy itinerary or feel pressured to hunt down viral internet-famous spots.



✨ Overall, the experience wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, and it's definitely worth checking out at least once. Would I come back for a second round? Probably not, but there might come a day in the future when I really miss the nighttime vibes and street food in Hanoi.



(Why Do So Many Westerners Travel to Hanoi?)



1️⃣ Great for leisurely wandering: Western tourists love strolling through the Old Quarter during the day, chilling at cafes, and hitting up bars for dinner and drinks at night. They aren't stressed about getting Instagram shots; they're just focused on enjoying the moment.



2️⃣ Super budget-friendly: While some things in Hanoi aren't necessarily cheaper than Chiang Mai, prices are insanely cheap for travelers from Europe and the US, making it a paradise for backpackers.



3️⃣ High English proficiency: People working in tourism—like hotels, travel agencies, restaurants, and bars—can easily chat in English, which totally takes the stress out of the language barrier.



✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆



If any of my fellow Muslim friends are actually planning a trip to Hanoi, definitely save this food guide for later~



✨ Even though Hanoi is the capital of Vietnam, it doesn't have nearly as many halal restaurants as Ho Chi Minh City—there are probably only around 20 to 30 of them, mostly serving Indian and Middle Eastern cuisine. Plus, almost all of Hanoi's halal spots are tucked right inside the Old Quarter's 36 Streets, with basically zero halal options in local residential neighborhoods. Local halal joints aren't super cheap either; they tack on a 3% to 13% tax, so meals usually cost at least around 30 bucks per person, whereas regular non-halal pho typically runs anywhere from ten to twenty-odd yuan.



Accommodation: To make finding food easy, I totally recommend booking a place right inside the 36 Streets, close to the mosque.



‼️ Since there was way too much to write and it wouldn't fit here, I had to put the rest on the pictures~



#Halal #HuiMuslims #Vietnam #Hanoi #HanoiHalal #HanoiTravelGuide #WeChatOA #WeChatPost view all

[Internet Repost]

I’ve put together 19 photos and real-life breakdowns of my experience dining at various Halal-certified restaurants in Kyoto, Japan, along with a price comparison in RMB. This covers everything from the matcha udon and fried chicken set at Yoshiya in Arashiyama to a taste and portion test of Halal ramen and Wagyu BBQ spots near Kyoto Station.

I had pretty high expectations for the food coming to Japan, but honestly, some spots were a total letdown. Between the steep prices, tiny portions, leaving still hungry, super salty noodles, and just not vibing with the flavors, it was hit or miss.



Yoshiya (よしや)



I wasn’t planning on hitting this spot near Arashiyama, but it ended up being the best meal I had in Japan. The udon noodles were super soft, topped with plenty of green onions, and they offer both regular and matcha-infused versions. The fried chicken was perfectly crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside, seasoned with black pepper. The portions here are actually decent, so one order is enough to keep you full. The female staff wear hijabs and the restaurant provides warm water, though the service is a bit lacking since you have to pour your own water. They do accept WeChat Pay or Alipay.



Bali-Bali Indonesia



This is a great value Indonesian spot in Kyoto with a huge menu and solid flavors. The chicken ramen wasn't nearly as salty as what you get at local Japanese shops. It’s tucked away on the third floor, not right on the main street. Everything we ordered was non-spicy. The chicken ramen comes with the soup and noodles separate, so you pour the broth over the noodles yourself. The vermicelli in the soto (traditional soup) was surprisingly refreshing, though the sate (skewered grilled meat) was grilled a bit too much to the point of being burnt. There is a place for dua (prayer) on the fifth floor. Heads up: they only take cash.



Halal Ramen Honolu Premier Kyoto Nishiki



This is part of the Honolu chain, which has locations in Kyoto and Osaka. We grabbed the fried chicken ramen and chicken ramen, though the "ramen" here is basically just instant noodles. Both broths were pretty salty. The fried chicken was decent. The restaurant is on the second floor and the ventilation isn't great, so it got a bit smoky after they cooked the Wagyu. There’s a prayer room, and you can pay with your Suica card. They also sell their own Halal goodies, like instant noodles, chocolate, and seasonings. Just a heads up, the three Honolu locations near Yotsubashi aren't the ones we visited.



Ayam-YA



Since I was still hungry after Honolu, I decided to grab a bite somewhere else. Heads up: this place is cash only, and you have to order at the kiosk by the entrance before grabbing a seat inside. The fried chicken skin was super thin and crispy—it was my first time having chicken skin like that, and Japan really knows how to use every part of the bird. The shoyu (soy sauce) ramen was also a bit on the salty side.



Matahari Padang Kyoto Halal



This Indonesian spot is on the third floor of a small alley right by the Kamo River. You can see the river view from the balcony, but you can’t actually eat out there. Everything is pretty spicy, and there aren't many non-spicy options. Since I can’t handle much heat, I tried the "mild" dishes, and the food came out pretty fast. The beef tendon curry used a tom yum base with a coconut flavor, but for me, it definitely wasn't "mild"—it was pretty spicy. The chicken was marinated well, but also spicy. Keep in mind that this place is cash only. Honestly, I liked the Bali-Bali Indonesian restaurant better.



I’ll keep updating you guys on Halal food spots from around the world.



#Halal #JapanHalal #HuiMuslims #VisitJapan #JapaneseFood view all

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This collection of 15 photos takes you away from the crowded Qianmen tourist streets and deep into the heart of Yangwei Hutong to visit the Qianmen Mosque (formerly known as the Tiaozhou Hutong Mosque), an official historical preservation site. You’ll get to admire the prayer hall, which dates back to the early Ming Dynasty and was renovated during the Kangxi and Qianlong eras, featuring a unique six-ridge connected roof and a delicate hexagonal moon-sighting tower.

Escape the tourist chaos of Qianmen Street and duck into the depths of Yangwei Hutong to stumble upon this hidden site: the Qianmen Mosque, still known to locals by its old name, the Tiaozhou Hutong Mosque.



Founded in the early Ming Dynasty, this mosque is over 600 years old. Having undergone major renovations during the Kangxi and Qianlong reigns, it is one of the few surviving Ming-era Islamic sites in the southern part of the city, quietly tucked away among residential homes.



The entire complex is a beautiful fusion of traditional Chinese courtyard architecture and Islamic design. The main prayer hall features a unique six-ridge interlocking roof that creates a rhythmic, layered effect, while the hexagonal moon-sighting tower stands at the back—a structure once used to observe the moon to determine the dates of Ramadan. Because it is not open to the public, you can only admire the silhouettes of the grey-brick and tile architecture from outside the wall. It is a bit of a bummer that we can't get inside to see the Ming-era murals, Arabic calligraphy carvings, and hand-copied ancient Qurans for ourselves.



Compared to the noisy, hyped-up tourist spots, the silence you find here behind the courtyard walls has so much more character. Standing firm in a quiet corner of the bustling city, this mosque is a living testament to the history of Hui Muslims in Old Beijing. Leaving a little bit of mystery behind actually makes the visit feel more meaningful.



#QianmenMosque #TiaozhouHutongMosque #XuannanHistoricalSites #BeijingMingDynastyArchitecture view all

[Internet Repost]

Check out these 10 infographics that break down the cultural origins of the word 'Qingzhen' (the Chinese term for Halal) used by Hui Muslims in China every day. We’re diving deep into the ethical standards behind 'Halal' (lawful) and 'Tayyib' (wholesome and pure), covering everything from how ingredients are picked and sanitary slaughter practices to the importance of honest business.

#HalalFood #Halal #HuiMuslimDiet #Halal #HuiMuslims #HalalDietaryRestrictions #HalalCuisine #HalalBeefAndLamb #LaobaiFoodDiaries

Real-life visual tour. view all

[Internet Repost]

As modern urban development reshapes the traditional way of living around the local masjid (mosque), we need a deeper look at how today’s scholars and ahongs (imams) are holding onto core spiritual values while embracing modern human sciences. It’s all about building a bridge for the younger generation to connect with their rich cultural heritage.

By: Li Haiyang



“If culture dies, the community fades; if faith isn't nurtured, the spirit goes cold.” With the tide of urbanization bringing a mix of diverse cultures—and plenty of shallow ideologies—the future of our faith and the Hui Muslims is at a major crossroads. Simply retreating into old-school madrasa education or relying on traditional father-to-son teaching won’t cut it in the complexity of modern city life. First, urban renewal has broken up the old neighborhoods where everyone lived right around the mosque, making it harder to gather for weddings, funerals, and traditions. Second, many young people are blindly copying generic, watered-down versions of faith, losing their connection to their own roots. Caught between these pressures, the direction of our faith doesn't just impact our heritage—it tests the wisdom of our scholars and imams. While the pressure from all sides is real, it’s also an opportunity to build resilience. As the scriptures say: only those who persevere are truly excellent, and for those who strive, Allah will surely open a way.



The current dilemma facing our faith stems from losing touch with traditions and the distortion of core beliefs. We have to acknowledge that madrasa education was the backbone of Hui culture, keeping our ethics and religious knowledge pure for centuries. In today’s urban world, imams need to do more than just maintain those classical methods—they need to pick up new skills to help the faith fit into our fast-paced lives. They need to provide guidance to young professionals who are too busy to spend hours studying deep texts. Today, constant exposure to conflicting values and the hyper-competitive, high-stress nature of modern life leaves people confused. This is exactly where scholars and imams can step in to provide clarity through the lens of Islamic teaching. Even if they can’t reach everyone, they can at least ensure our own children don’t lose their cultural identity just to keep up with the daily grind, turning our faith and heritage into empty, meaningless labels.

There’s another worrying trend we need to watch out for. Some people have reduced their faith to just the motions of prayer and fasting, but their daily lives show a total disconnect between what they say and how they actually act. They treat the faith like an identity tag, which ends up alienating others. They might talk the talk, but their actions show an empty faith—or even a lack of real belief in the Hereafter. When religious practice is separated from genuine humility, and when traditions are stripped of their spiritual core, the faith becomes like water without a source, often causing more harm than good. As the great Ali said, “Two types of people destroy the faith: those who have knowledge but don’t act, and those who act without knowledge.” We also need to be careful about internal extremism or hyper-nationalism, which only invites misunderstanding from the outside and tears apart the consensus that keeps our culture alive. I’d like to share some thoughts on this to get the conversation started.



For scholars and imams dedicated to the faith, it’s time to move the focus from the quantity of followers to the quality of the individual. Let’s be clear: the vitality of our community doesn't depend on how many people show up, but on whether each individual truly lives out the core spirit of a “submissive” servant—sincerity in belief, putting ethics into action, and showing tolerance toward others. Improving this “quality” is the top priority. As one senior imams put it, “The faith should be internalized by the individual, normalized in the family, and integrated into society.” To do this, imams need to adjust their teachings to be more relevant, but every person who cares about the community—whether an imam or a doste (devoted companion/lay member)—needs to start at home. Lead by example, teach with empathy, and translate the wisdom of the classics into language that makes sense in everyday life. Help children understand “why” we believe and “how” we act, instead of just mechanically copying rituals.

Even more importantly, whether it's through the mosque or at home, we need to adapt to how people think today rather than just lecturing them. We can use digital tools to share the beauty of our classics and explain how our ethics connect to modern life. For example, how do we stay honest in business, practice tolerance in a diverse society, or show true respect through our family responsibilities? When the transmission of our faith moves from the quiet of the classroom to the reality of daily life, I believe more young people will find real meaning in it.

If more scholars and imams start by working on themselves, aiming to be the “Muhajirun” (emigrants seeking truth) and “Ansar” (helpers of the faith) of this new era, that will change everything. For the former, it means diving deep into the texts to keep the faith pure while engaging with modern problems. For the latter, it means dedicating their strength to protecting our values. When every devout Muslim combines internal humility with an open-minded approach to building society—and when our “scholars” aren't just limited to the mosque, but become moral leaders in the community—our faith will naturally gain a new, vibrant life.



In short, urbanization isn't the enemy of our heritage, and modern life isn't inherently opposed to faith. The future depends on how our scholars and imams bridge the gap between the traditional and the modern. We shouldn't abandon our core spiritual values, but we shouldn't shy away from the reasonable progress of our time either. We need to cherish our unique identity while embracing the values we share with all of humanity. We have no strength except through Allah, and I pray for His guidance. May we be the ones to awaken and take action first. Only then can we protect our spiritual home in these changing times and let the light of Iman (faith) guide our path forward. view all

[Internet Repost]

Guided by the classic teaching that 'all good deeds depend on Niyyah (intention),' this article examines the core motivations of contemporary mosque management committees and grassroots religious charitable work. We explore how to correct our intentions, move past competition for fame and profit, and protect our faith community through a spirit of pure service.

1. A Confusing Phenomenon

In the current landscape of our faith, a phenomenon is becoming increasingly eye-catching: people are actively competing for positions in Islamic associations and for seats on mosque management committees. Among those competing, some rely on personal reputation, some on family influence, and others on sectarian backing.

On the surface, seeing people eager to work for the sake of the faith might seem like a positive signal that our community is thriving. Logically, many hands make light work, and we should feel encouraged by this enthusiasm.

However, when we look at the reality on the ground, we see a completely different picture: religious affairs haven't become smoother; instead, they have bred tension, suspicion, and even open hostility. Rather than being more united, Muslim groups are showing cracks, filled with factionalism and hidden agendas.

This leaves one feeling heavy-hearted and forces us to ask repeatedly: why do two situations that look so similar on the surface yield such drastically different results?

The answer doesn't lie in the actions themselves, but in the heart behind those actions—the silent 'Niyyah' that we hold before Allah, which ultimately determines everything.

2. The Core of the Problem: What Are We Competing For?

The crux of the problem isn't the act of 'running for office' or 'holding a position' itself; it’s a fundamental question: Why are you competing?

When we calm our hearts, it's not hard to see that the intentions of those who step forward generally fall into two categories:

The first category is those with pure Niyyah. They step up not for fame, not for profit, not for their family, and not to advance a career. They participate in religious affairs solely to promote Allah's faith and to seek His pleasure through serving the people. They don't calculate personal gains or losses, nor do they look for worldly rewards. Even if they know this path is filled with misunderstandings and grievances, they still choose to move forward.

The second category is those with complex motives. They step forward with a different kind of ledger in their hearts: some want to build a name for themselves in this world, some seek glory for their families, some want long-term access to public resources for personal gain, and others simply want a 'highlight' on their resumes. For them, the faith is not a sanctuary of belief, but a springboard for personal interest.

On the surface, both types of people do the same work, say the same things, and wear the same clothes. But in the eyes of Allah, their essences are worlds apart—one is worship, the other is a transaction; one is sacrifice, the other is exploitation; one is burning oneself for the sake of Allah, the other is feeding one's own ego through the faith.

And this tiny, invisible difference will eventually lead to vastly different life outcomes and collective destinies.

3. A Warning from 1,400 Years Ago: The Echoes of the Hijra

This judgment doesn't come from personal subjective analysis; it is rooted in solid scriptural evidence. In 622 AD, the first year of the Hijri calendar, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) led the people in the migration from Mecca to Medina. On the eve of this great journey, there was a man whose footsteps followed the migration, but his heart remained with a woman—he migrated not for Allah or His Messenger, but simply to marry the woman he loved.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) understood all of this. He didn't denounce him publicly, but used it as an opportunity to establish an eternal standard of judgment for all believers. As narrated by Umar ibn al-Khattab (may Allah be pleased with him), the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said:

'Actions are but by intentions, and every person shall have what they intended. So he whose migration was for Allah and His Messenger, then his migration was for Allah and His Messenger; but he whose migration was for the sake of worldly gain or to marry a woman, then his migration is for the sake of that for which he migrated.' (Collected by Bukhari and Muslim)

This hadith is like a sharp blade, cutting through the outer shell of actions to touch the depths of the soul. It tells us a cruel yet just truth: external actions can be imitated, words can be polished, and images can be packaged, but before Allah, none of this can hide the true color of our intentions.

If your heart desires something, you will obtain it. Allah is perfectly just and fair; He gives rewards according to the deepest intentions within a person's heart—not a fraction more, and not a fraction less.

4. Two Intentions, Two Life Outcomes

Those with pure intentions: Bearing grievances for the sake of Allah's pleasure.

For those who are simple-minded, aiming only to promote the faith and seeking only Allah's pleasure, life is often not easy. Because they don't form cliques, they are isolated; because they don't tell lies, they are pushed out; because they don't covet public property, they are seen as thorns in the side by those with vested interests.

They might be misunderstood: 'Is this person just trying to show off?'

They might be smeared: 'This person must have ulterior motives.'

They might be marginalized: 'Make them step aside, don't let them get in our way.'

However, Allah sees all of this.

In the afterlife, Allah will reward them abundantly, be pleased with them, and grant them unimaginable blessings. Perhaps, even in this life, Allah will let them feel the peace that comes from faith—the clarity of a conscience that is at ease in the dead of night, and the steadfastness of having a clean Niyyah when facing Allah. This inner strength is far heavier than any official position and more precious than any title.

Those with impure motives: Using the faith to seek private desires.

For those with impure motives who use the name of the faith to pursue selfish interests, the scene is quite different. They might thrive in the short term—the position is secured, the face is saved, the benefits are grabbed, and the career is smooth. They talk eloquently on stage, and the applause below is thunderous; it seems like everything is under their control.

But this is highly likely a 'reprieve' from Allah—given the reward in this world, only to have no share in the afterlife. Just as the hadith says, they 'shall have what they intended.' The fame and wealth they sought in this life are given by Allah in this world, but in the afterlife, they will stand before Allah empty-handed.

Even more severely, Allah might let them lose their reputation and be spurned by others in this life. Because the human heart is a mirror, those who treat others with selfishness will eventually be seen through by the community. History has repeatedly proven: those who rise to power through manipulation will eventually be consumed by those same methods; those who win applause through performance will eventually lose their audience when the truth is revealed.

5. Two Intentions, Two Types of Faith Environments

When the intentions of individuals converge into a collective torrent, two drastically different religious landscapes emerge.

The Virtuous Cycle: A Path of Harmony

When a management committee has pure intentions and serves only the faith, they will select leaders fairly and hire imams and scholars who are truly knowledgeable and God-fearing. These religious personnel do not use the faith as a means of earning a living, but as a mission; they do not treat the pulpit as a stage, but as a podium—teaching people through scriptures, influencing them with character, and impacting them with their lives.

Under their guidance, the community's level of understanding the faith keeps rising—they are no longer satisfied with ritualistic religious ceremonies, but pursue the essence of belief: awe of Allah, honesty, benevolence, and tolerance. The community learns to handle interpersonal relationships using Islamic moral values and resolves life's conflicts with the wisdom of faith.

Once the awareness of the masses improves, they will naturally look forward to and support good committees and imams—because they have personally experienced the blessings brought by virtuous governance. Thus, a beautiful closed loop is formed:

Good management committee -> Good imams -> Good community members -> Looking forward to better committees and imams.

In this cycle, the scene we see is:

Faithful harmony thrives when different viewpoints are exchanged with genuine mutual respect.

The community flourishes when leadership is transparent, decisions are fair, and everyone is on the same page.

The Muslim community stands together like a single family, built on a foundation of mutual aid and love.

Home life is happy and peaceful, with faith woven into the fabric of our daily routines.

Society remains stable, with the Muslim community serving as a powerful force for harmony.

This kind of peace isn't something you can just manufacture through management tactics or fake through superficial PR—it’s the sweet fruit that grows from hearts filled with sincere Niyyah (pure intention).

The Vicious Cycle: The Path to Decay

On the flip side, when people involved in leadership have impure motives, the Imams (prayer leaders) they choose aren't those who prioritize the faith, but rather those who know how to play the game, pick sides, and act as convenient tools. Such religious figures are too afraid to speak the truth or offend the powerful, sometimes even twisting the teachings just to keep the status quo happy.

The community doesn't receive real spiritual nourishment, so their faith stays skin-deep—prayer becomes a formality, the Quran becomes a decoration, and Islam is reduced to just "picking sides" instead of "recognizing Allah." The community’s understanding of the faith doesn't grow; instead, it gets distorted and exploited.

When people don't see sincerity, but only power plays; when they don't hear truth, but only empty slogans—they naturally lose trust and even start feeling resentful. That’s how a new, negative loop starts:

Corrupt board members → Bad Imams → A disillusioned community → No one left to advocate for better leadership.

In this cycle, here’s what we end up seeing:

The faith declines, and the mosque turns into a battleground for power.

Relationships grow tense, and everyone starts suspecting each other.

Conflict piles up, with minor disagreements spiraling into major feuds.

Manipulators thrive, as just a little bit of stirring the pot can set the whole place on fire.

Families and society suffer, with the warmth of faith being drained away by constant internal fighting.

This decay isn't a random accident; it’s what happens when selfish desires corrode a community—a natural consequence that Allah makes manifest.

Section 6: The Mirror of the Heart

These two cycles reveal a core truth: the spiritual health of a community isn't defined by its institutional rules, but by the sincerity of the people’s intentions.

If the hearts of leaders are clean, the atmosphere of the entire group stays clean—people can sense that sincerity, and even if you don't say a word, that energy is contagious.

If the hearts of leaders are tainted by ego, the community will inevitably fracture—selfishness spreads like a virus, making everyone focus on "what’s in it for me" rather than "what can we contribute together."

So, the first step to improving the community’s spirit isn't changing the rules; it’s cleaning up our Niyyah.

Section 7: Allah’s Justice—The Ultimate Judgment

There is a Hadith that says whatever your heart seeks, you shall find. Allah’s accounting is completely impartial.

Those with pure intentions will be richly rewarded by Allah, even if they feel wronged in this life. Often, they are granted inner peace and the genuine respect of others—things that are far more valuable than any official title.

Those with impure motives might seem like they’re winning for now, but that may just be Allah’s period of delay. In the afterlife, they will face a strict reckoning. If they use the faith to serve their own interests, they risk losing all credibility in this life and have nowhere to hide in the next.

Allah warns in the Quran: "Do not be like those who became divided and differed after the clear proofs had come to them. And those will have a great punishment." (3:105)

Section 8: Let It Start With "Me"

My dear brothers and sisters, after reading this, please take a moment of silence and ask yourself a few questions:

Am I involved in religious service for the sake of Allah, or for the sake of my ego and reputation?

Do I support a specific person for the progress of the faith, or just because we’re friends?

Do I study the faith to get closer to Allah, or just so I can win arguments against others?

Am I concerned with community affairs to serve the people, or just to stay relevant and be seen?

The rise or fall of our community doesn't depend on who sits in the chair, but on the moment that person sits down and forms their Niyyah before Allah. That single moment determines the entire present and future of the community.

Every one of us is a link in this chain. Don’t always blame the people at the top, and don’t always blame the people below—please start by examining your own heart.

When each of us begins to purify our intentions, we create a starting point for a positive cycle; but when we let our selfish desires run wild and just go with the flow, the vicious cycle will never stop.

I pray that Allah makes us people of pure intention and integrity, protects us from the corruption of hypocrisy and ego, and grants all those who serve the faith sincerely success in both this world and the next. May our board members, Imams, and community members all come together with pure intentions to walk toward unity, harmony, and prosperity.

Ameen. view all

[Internet Repost]

This article dives deep into the psychology of how our ego—the Nafs—disguises itself as moral superiority and harsh judgment within our faith life. It serves as a reminder for believers to practice constant self-reflection during prayer (dua), fasting, and inviting others to good, helping us return to the core of a faith that actually fosters humility and gentleness.





True faith won't turn you into a harsh person; it will only make you more gentle.



Production | Mr. Yexing Author | Mr. Yexing

You might feel like you’re doing everything right in your faith—following the scriptures, practicing diligently, reading, fasting, giving to charity, and even guiding others. You feel like you're on the straight path. But you might not realize there’s something subtle creeping into your intentions: your own ego. It doesn’t tell you to quit believing; instead, it puts on a mask of piety, letting you satisfy your own needs while you think you're performing acts of worship. It might push you to pick paths that prove you’re right, to focus on others' flaws when making judgments, or to crave validation when you speak. The scariest part is that you’ll mistake all of this for the demands of the faith, completely missing the fact that you’re actually just feeding your own ego.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) said: The best among you are those with the best character (Tirmidhi). But the ego won’t pull you off the right path; it will just make you feel like you're serving the truth even when you're going astray. You fight to the bitter end in a debate because you think you’re defending the truth; you refuse to back down in your criticisms because you think you’re protecting the faith. But have you ever asked yourself: Am I doing this for the pleasure of Allah, or to prove I’m right? Am I defending the faith, or just making myself look more rigid? You can only reach those hidden motives when you’re willing to pause and face yourself.

When you judge others based on your own understanding, you might feel like you’re simply 'enjoining good and forbidding evil.' But have you thought about whether you’re pushing your views because you’re certain they’re correct, or because you’re just used to needing your opinions to be accepted? The ego won’t tell you, 'I want validation.' It’ll tell you, 'I have to uphold the truth.' It won’t say, 'I want to be in control.' It’ll say, 'The faith requires me to do this.' When you find yourself in constant, unresolvable conflict with others, always believing you’re the right one, take a moment to ask: Is this impulse to force someone to change or admit they’re wrong actually about the integrity of the faith, or is it about your own satisfaction? When you can’t tell the difference, it’s hard to know exactly what you’re following.

The ego’s greatest trick is disguising itself as the faith. It makes you hold others to the strictest standards while going easy on yourself. It makes you obsessed with pointing out everyone else's mistakes but rarely forces you to look at whether you’re actually practicing what you preach. It makes you care more about the outward rituals of faith while ignoring the subtle reactions that truly test your spiritual state—like how you treat people who aren't useful to you, how you respond to criticism, or the choices you make when nobody is watching. Those unedited moments often reveal the true direction of your heart.

So, how do you tell the difference? A practical test is this: when you’re standing your ground on something, do you feel a sense of peace or a sense of tension? If your stance makes you aggressive, constantly wanting to correct, argue, or blame, it might not be your faith driving you—it might be your ego using the name of faith to express itself. True faith won’t make you meaner; it will only make you more gentle. It won’t keep you focused on other people's sins; it will make you more aware of your own shortcomings. It won’t make you rush to prove you’re right; it will make you willing to admit when you might be wrong.

If you find it hard to accept criticism, hard to admit you misunderstood something, or hard to concede to those with different opinions, you might need to stop and ask if you’re defending the faith or just your own ego. Because the true faith won’t be damaged by you admitting you’re wrong. But your ego will only get stronger every time you refuse to own up to a mistake. Once you start being able to tell those two apart, you’re finally on the path toward the truth, rather than just spinning your wheels in an imaginary version of the truth that you built yourself and stained with your own desires.

(End of article) view all

[Internet Repost]

Take a look at these 20 photos as we visit the Wu'aisi Baba Gongbei located in Qingquan Township, Yumen City, Gansu Province. We're diving into the legends of Islamic missionaries who traveled to the Hexi Corridor during the Tang Dynasty's Zhenguan era, while exploring the mosque's unique architecture that blends Arabic domes with traditional Chinese structural designs.

This is a place with deep historical roots, serving as the tomb of a prominent Islamic saint. Here is the detailed information I've put together for you:



It is located in Qingquan Township, Yumen City, Gansu Province.



Historical background: The term "Gongbei" is a transliteration from Arabic meaning a dome-shaped mausoleum. Historical records state that between 626 and 649 AD, a missionary named Wu'aisi, sent by the third Caliph Uthman, passed away in Yumen while on his way to preach in China and was laid to rest here. To honor this saint, later generations built a mausoleum on the site. The current main structure was built in the 1980s and features a design that fuses Arabic style with traditional Chinese elements. The lower section is a towering prayer hall, the middle is a three-story tower with feiyan dougong (traditional flying eaves and brackets), and the top is crowned with a treasure-gourd-shaped spire, making it truly one-of-a-kind. There are also prayer halls, reception rooms, and dormitories nearby. The Gongbei was officially designated as a county-level cultural relic protection unit by the Yumen Municipal People's Government in 1987. view all