I should say something more about the Toulou trip before it slips my mind. The coach journey of three hours the initial stage for our guide’s commentary. He began by asking if any of us were visitor’s to Xiamen. Upon discovering some he jokingly gave the tip of there being four things you have to do in Xiamen when visiting: eating, drinking, going to the casino and visiting prostitutes. Although said in jest his list must have corresponded to many a visitor’s itinerary for a stereotypical visitor to say, Portsmouth, would surely not arrive at such a cocktail. He went on to tell us the actual local specialities which included one I have tried and lived to regret: sea worm skin served in set jelly.
Some distance inland we made a stop. While it was ostensively a toilet and refreshment break, the place we found ourselves deposited at was a warehouse selling Fujian products. It had been arranged so that the visitors snakes their way through the shelves of products, a slalom so barefaced and absolute that I had to laugh when making my way through. Arranged in this vert specific way, this not so large industrial unit required a good 15 minutes to pass through as it was in effect a tunnel: once you enter there is only one way to the exit. In the end I bought some dried sweet potato then piled onto the bus along with my new companions and set off for the Tulous.
Arriving at the Tulou Visitor Centre we were had lunch that was a part of the package. My table was slow to get started with the food and quite uncommunicative in general. I was surprised at this. I did get talking to a Dutch/Chinese man from Rotterdam who was having a hard time because he was ethnically Chinese but spoke no Mandarin and very little Cantonese. Having seen how Chinese migrants often hold onto their language and culture more than people from elsewhere, he may have encountered some surprise and frustration when people in China realised he was more Dutch than Chinese in everything save the colour of his skin.
After lunch we divided into two groups and drove off in search of Tulous which I learnt are also called ‘earth castles’. We were shown inside and they are quite unusual constructions: large round buildings on several floors with a central courtyard. That space now seemed to be given over to tourism. Several coach parties seemed to be descending upon the toulous at once and there were competing guides. On sale were model toulous, dried products, tea, hats, paintings, crafts and tourist nik-naks like bottle openers with a toulou on the handle or a toulou in a snow bubble inspite of the distinct lack of snow in Southern Fujian. The upper floors were private but a woman persistently tried to entice us up saying there were very beautiful things to see for just 5rmb. I wondered what this could have been as by the way she was talking you would have thought she was going to present her daughter. Finally however I declined the upper floors of that toulou.
This set what was to become an increasingly familiar pattern: walk to the toulou, get some information from the guide, 20 minutes to hang about and buy things then onto the next one. The pattern was however broken later that afternoon by some traditional folk arts: a song and a puppet show. The heat had really gotten up by then, added to which the girl who was singing was amplified so loud that I was blasted all the way to the back wall to protect my ears and find a little shade. It could hardly be called pleasant even though she did have a sweet voice and some talent. The puppet show was more difficult to follow and five minutes into it my tour group headed off in search of the next toulou. That must have been a tough public to play to.
