The largest group of Uygurs in Kunming, around 135, live in peace with their Han neighbors east of downtown where Uygur terrorists launched a deadly attack. The community is tense but calm.

Dashuying Village is an out-of-the-way community 8 kilometers east of downtown Kunming, the scene of a terrorist attack on Saturday that shocked the nation. It’s also home to the largest group of Uygurs in Kunming, around 135.

The village is home to around 24,000 residents, including 3,600 permanent residents, mostly retirees from a nearby state-run factory in Jinma township in Yunnan Province. Its vitality mainly comes from more than 20,000 migrants from other parts of China, including 135 Uygurs from northwest China’s Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region.

For many years, Han and Uygur people, as well as a few Hui people, have been getting along peacefully and cordially, though mostly keeping to themselves. Both many Han and Uygur people have deep roots in the community.

Since the attack, the atmosphere has been somewhat tense and police have patrolled the narrow streets. The area has been besieged by reporters, both Chinese and foreign, but locals aren’t talking.

The sentiment on both sides is that a whole ethnic group, the Uygurs, cannot be blamed for the violence of a few people. “We are not like them,” says Abliz, using only one name, a 62-year-old Uygur who has run small eatery and food store with his son and daughter-in-law for 11 years.

He was referring to the terrorists from the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region who, clad in black and wielding long knives, killed 29 civilians and injured 143 at the downtown Kunming railway station.

“You can’t say all the Uygurs are bad only because some of them have become terrorists,” says Zhu Zhengqun, a 36-year-old Han who runs a tailor shop and manages a building that rents to non-Uygur migrants. Han and Uygur are “isolated” groups, she observes.

Abliz, the store owner says, “Everyone in the neighborhood knows it’s safe to buy food here. They know we are honest, law-abiding people — they have eyes and brains. He speaks Mandarin Chinese with a strong Uygur accent.

His 10-square-meter store with two tables serves Xinjiang-style fast food, such as noodles, fried mutton, pancakes and buns. It also sells tea, dairy products, raisins and nuts from Xinjiang.

At lunchtime, his longtime customers — mostly Uygurs and a few Han people — drop in for a quick meal.

“Business is more or less the same as before,” says Abliz.

After the attack, many relatives called from Ili, his hometown in Xinjiang, to ask how he was getting along.

“They said that if the locals were hostile to the Uygurs, I might as well go back home,” he says.

But Abliz says he will stay.

“Some people are watchful, but nobody is hostile,” he says. “We’ve lived here long enough to feel like part of the community. We’re certainly not ready to move, because my grandson still goes to school in Kunming.”

Abliz’s store is one of many Xinjiang-style stores and restaurants in the community. The area, close to Kunming’s second ring road, has easy traffic access but living conditions are not comparable to the cozy, modern communities in downtown Kunming.

Most of the native residents live in small gray brick apartments their former employers sold them for comparatively low prices. The five or six-story structures were built in the 1980s.

Others have built private homes in the neighborhood and lease extra rooms to migrants.

As a result of this property expansion, the narrow streets are packed with buildings on both sides: some are less than 2 meters apart and the smell of cooking from many kitchens fills the air.

Most of the town dwellers are employed locally, so life is convenient.

Dashuying community has two grocery markets, a school, a hospital, dozens of restaurants and numerous roadside stores selling anything from food and drinks to lottery tickets and underwear. At one barber shop, a haircut costs 10 yuan (US$1.60). A tattoo costs 150 yuan.

Tailor shop owner Zhu Zhengqun from Yunnan’s Zhaotong City helps manage her aunt’s rental property, a 6-story building with 12 rooms ranging from 7 to 18 square meters each. The are leased to migrants for 300-420 yuan a month. Bathrooms are shared.

“We never rent rooms to Uygurs,” says Zhu. “All the Uygurs live close together on the other side of the street. Sometimes they rent a whole building.”

Zhu and her husband, a Sichuan Province native, have lived in the community for 10 years. Their son and daughter were born and raised in the village.

Zhu describes Han residents and Uygurs as two “isolated” groups.

“Each minds his own business. You can’t say they are on good terms. There’s no conflict but they have very little in common.”

She believes “there are kind people everywhere, from all ethnic groups.

Zhu’s neighbor, a Han nationality junk collector surnamed Wang, sometimes collects rubbish from the Uygur people. “I’d say they are nice people, friendly and straightforward. When I offer a price, they always say ‘deal’ and seldom bargain,” he says.

After the knife attacks took place, however, Wang stopped collecting from Uygur families. The community was tense and there was a large police presence, as well as a flood of reporters.

Despite the calm, easygoing ways of both Uygur and Han, locals are reluctant to talk to reporters.

A young Uygur man who was making buns outside a fast food restaurant refused to say a word and turned away to avoid the lens of a Hong Kong reporter.

“I am talking to you because we are all Chinese,” Abliz says. “I don’t talk to foreigners.

“We don’t speak their language and we don’t want them to misinterpret us,” explains his son, Abliz Lahim.

Most of the townspeople interviewed Monday said they hoped Kunming would soon recover from the shock of the killings.

“Life still goes on, and I hope this lovely little town will continue to be my home,” says Abliz.

“It’s a good place for doing business,” says Zhang Dawei, a barbecue restaurant owner and Han national, adding that the village has “a good location, with enough spending power and adequate supplies.”

Liu Huihong, a community committee official, was optimistic the place would remain “peaceful and in good order.”

“I’ve been working at the community for 10 years,” he says. “The residents — Han, Uygur and a few Hui people — never had any disputes. Thefts were rare.”

Liu says he’s indignant and grieved by the killings.

“I hope the injured will recover soon and the terrorists will be brought to justice,” he says. “There are good Uygurs and bad Uygurs. The same is true with any other ethnic groups. But our community is always open to law-abiding citizens of all groups.”