Great Scott! Ballantyne's Xiapu Travelogue

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Great Scott! (Scott Ballantyne, Xiamen ABB)
Xiapu Travelogue #5 (Includes a trip to Sansha, Hainan Island) (Copyright2004 by Scott Ballantyne)
Click for More about Scott B.
Scott's 1st Xiapu Adventure
Scott's 4th Xiapu Adventure
Scott's 5th Xiapu Adventure
Scott's Quanzhou Adventure!

Well, I have had four more trips to Xiapu since my last travelogue, but I shall not bore you with the details of all four experiences - I'll just combine the interesting things into one trip.

First of all, I must catch up with where I left off on my last journal. You may remember that Lei Mei Li and Lei Qui Li were paying a visit to Xiamen with Diana and me. Of course, it was their first ever trip outside their home/Xiapu and the journey was enough to see the wonder in their eyes. The capital city of this province is Fuzhou and they were amazed at the huge buildings, city lights and general busyness of the city. Xiamen is probably even more modern than Fuzhou, so the girls were in for a big surprise.

We arrived in Xiamen at five in the morning after an uneventful 16 hour bus journey, and caught a taxi to my apartment - that in itself was a first for the girls - they had never been in a car-taxi before. All the taxis in Xiapu are either bicycles, tricycles or three-wheeled motorcycles. We settled them into the apartment, making a bed for them in our lounge where they were to sleep together.

One thing that I noticed was unusual was the lack of baggage that they had brought with them. Each of them carried only a small handbag-sized bag. I discovered as the days went by, why. They just wore exactly the same clothes for the five days away from home.

We all slept for a few hours and then Diana and I decided to take the girls shopping in Xiamen. We thought that we would give them their first taste of Western junk food - McDonalds. They hated it (which pleased me). They picked at their burgers and fingered the French fries and must have wondered what all the fuss was about this great McDonalds place (just as I always have. It is interesting that on the same road as one of the 4 McDonalds in Xiamen is a Kentucky Fried Chicken, and it is much more popular than Macs. Whenever I speak to people about the two places, everyone, without exception, prefers Kentucky). What food the girls ate, they ate out of Chinese politeness for their hosts.

We then took them into one of the large department stores and watched with amusement as two teenage girls - one 17 - panicked at the escalator (moving stairs for my U.S. friends). At first, they were afraid to get on and when they did they nervously clung to me, Diana each other and the moving handrail. I could see the confusion in their faces as they wondered how they were going to get off. Several rides on it did not increase their confidence, either.

Diana absolutely fell in love with Lei Qui during the trip and she took care of her, whilst I made Lei Mei my responsibility. This responsibility, you may think, for a 17 year old would be an easy task. You would be wrong. Every time we crossed a main road, I had to take Lei Mei's hand, just as Diana did with her charge, and guide them safely across the road. Such car laden streets and roads had not been encountered by them before and the speed and volume of traffic was confusing and frightening for them. It did my ego the power of good to be seen walking hand-in-hand with a pretty 17 year old!!

We then took them to the beautiful and famous island of Gulangyu, which is probably one of the most attractive natural and man-made places in China. It was also very safe for them as there is no traffic at all, not even bicycles, allowed on the island. To get there, we had to take a short ferry ride and this was the first time either of them had been on a boat. They loved the island and spent an awe-filled afternoon there.

Other times, we showed them around the campus of the university, which is reputed to be the most beautiful university campus in China, or took them to the university beach. But what they liked to do most - and did as much as they could - was watch television. There are no televisions in their villages and they do not get to watch general television at school. So, this really was a treat for them. Lei Qui really took the tv seriously and agonised with actors, crying at times, laughing out unashamedly and really shouting at the villains - it was a delight to watch her. It was as if she believed that all she was seeing was really happening in true life and she allowed all her emotions to act just as they would if it were really happening in her own home or village. In fact, one of the reasons Diana liked her so very much was because whatever she was thinking or feeling could be very clearly seen on her face.

One of the strange things that neither Diana nor I could understand was that we could not persuade the girls to have a shower. They had travelled by a dirty and smelly bus for 16 hours, lived for four days with us and returned by smelly bus, without a shower. Diana tried very hard to get them to shower, but they would not. Only a hands and face wash seemed to be all the attention they would give to their cleansing. They did, however, actively and regularly clean their teeth. Mystery to me.

By the time we put them on the bus for their trip home, two very happy and worldly-wiser little girls were returning to their squalid towns and poor villages in the mountains. Diana and I were both delighted that we had been able to give them such a trip, which may be the last such one that they get for a very long time if not ever.

At this point I will give a short progress report on Lei Mei and her friend for those who have kindly donated money to the fund (with a special mention for Dave, the landlord, and the locals at the White Lion pub in Frenchay, Bristol, who have donated a vast amount). Lei Qui has another year at the same school and her education is being paid by Charles, the American anthropologist who introduced me to Xiapu, so she is okay. Lei Mei passed her exams and it was decided that she should not go to teacher's college but to try for something higher - so she is now going to Ningda District (the biggest local town) Minority Middle School. From here, she may qualify to go on to a good college or even university. The State will fund university education. I was able to pay for her next 3 years education in one go, but I personally send her monthly living allowance as her father cannot afford even that.

On one of my trips to Xiapu, I was told about their top student, Lei Xui (pronounced "shoe") Ling, who was sitting her final exam at that time. On the day of her final exam her mother came down from the mountain to tell her daughter that her efforts were in vain as the family were unable to raise enough money to pay for her higher education. She is 16 years old (17 in China) and was not from a poor family. However, a few years ago her young brother fell ill and the doctor's bills came to over 20,000 yuan. The English teacher in her school is paid 4,500 yuan a YEAR, so that will give you some idea of the cost to the family. The brother finally died at the age of 16 and then expensive funeral rites had to take place. This not only bankrupted the family but put them in debt to many people as they had had to borrow much of the health-care money.

One of the teachers saw Lei Xui and her mother crying together and extracted the reasons from them. The teacher then asked me if I could help. The cost of higher education is 600 yuan a term (47 UK pounds or US$72) - 2 terms a year. I assured her that I could help and paid 600 + 70 yuan registration out of the fund. At the moment, there is only enough in the fund for one more term, but I am confident (especially with a promise of more money from the White Lion) that we can ensure that her education continues. So, Lei Xui now attends the excellent, Number One Middle School, in Xiapu where I know many of the teachers and have got their promises to take good care of her. Her parents are struggling to pay her daily living expenses (because her village is so far away she has to live at the school) and are happy to do so. Lei Xui has written letters of thanks to contributors. Lei Mei sent similar letters.

So, kindness has changed the life of two intelligent girls. Had they not been able to continue their education, they would have been married off within a year and doomed to a life of working in the rice fields - minority mountain peoples ignore the Chinese marriage laws of no female marriage before 22 years old. There are thousands and thousands of similar cases all over China that we cannot help, so, both girls really do know how lucky they are. Okay, now to some of the highlights of my last few trips.

With many travels, the journey itself can be as exciting as the destination, but I have travelled to Xiapu so many times now that the journey holds only tedium for me. I am always the only foreigner on the bus, so spend the whole journey without talking to anyone or using the few phrases that I have (the most frequently used is Ting Bu Dong - I don't understand). Usually, the bus is crowded and I have to share a double bed with one or even two other males. On the way up there are usually two refreshment stops and on the way down, only one. The return journey can mean travelling for three hours, a break for 30 minutes and then staying in your seat/bed for 11 hours without getting up. I always feel like bed sores are setting in by the end of the return journey.

On my last trip up we hit a problem. We made good time to the provincial capital of Fuzhou - it is motorway (freeway) type roads for much of the journey - but after Fuzhou things change dramatically. We head up into the mountains on narrow roads and it is an up-and-round, twist-and-bend sort of journey. We always reach Fuzhou just as it is turning dark; once we leave the city there are very few major towns, we pass through small towns and villages lit up by cables strung along the fronts of buildings and single light bulbs hanging from them. Some of the richer shops have better lighting in them. Often, there are power cuts and as you drive through a place you are accompanied by the drone of a parade of diesel generators. One of the good things about this is that you do not get light pollution to spoil the dramatic views of the night sky.

On this trip, I had more to attract my eyes than usual as I could see up ahead a fantastic electric lightening storm. From the bus, I could hear no thunder, but the lightening was artistically giving me flashes of the mountain countryside which are normally hidden in the night darkness from me. I knew we were heading in the direction of the storm and looked forward to this relief from the monotony of the journey.

About four/five hours away from Xiapu, I noticed the driver having some problems with shifting gears. Crunching gears are not abnormal in all Chinese vehicles, but this was more frequently than usual. Every time we came to a steep climb (which was often) the driver was unable to come down through the gear box. "Clutch problem," I expertly told myself. We crawled up hills so slowly that a local on a bike loaded with his family and animals would have overtaken us. "This is going to put hours on the journey," I thought, and pictured the crowd waiting patiently for me at Xiapu.

About two hours away from Xiapu, the bus came to a halt. It was just after midnight, we were on a slight incline at the foot of another steep climb. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, could be seen from the windows until the lightening blazed a scene for us. Us? Me. I was the only one awake. The driver had also gone to sleep and the co-driver had taken off on foot down the road we had travelled. What the lightening showed me was a black mountain range on the horizon, foregrounded by a forest of trees. Between us and the forest was about quarter-of-a-mile of sloping away fields - rice, I guessed.

Somewhere, not too far away, a dog was barking, but no light or buildings could be seen and I couldn't identify where it could be coming from. I stayed in that setting for over two hours - everyone asleep, me taking in the Chinese night-countryside and the storm. Rain and thunder came after the first hour of immobility and I was very glad that I was in a bus and not out there alone. It was like a scene out of some low-budget Dracula movie.

More than two hours had passed when another bus came up the road - one of the very few vehicles that I saw on this stretch - and stopped in front of us. It backed up to the front of our bus and a tow-hitch was connected. We were then towed into Xiapu - nineteen hours after we had left Xiamen. My welcoming committee had departed and I found myself surrounded by tricycle-taxi drivers (I'm not sure if one can call these guys "drivers" as the taxis are not motorised) who all wanted the foreigner to get onto their trike so they could charge a lot more at the other end. Wrong. I knew how much to pay. I took a trike and directed him with my limited Chinese and a few hand signs to the hotel I always stayed in. He wanted 8 yuan for the journey, I gave him the correct amount, 3 yuan (13 yuan = one UK pound; 8.3 to the US$) and so had to carry my own case into the hotel. There, the three attending staff were curled up, or stretched out, on chairs and settees, but all asleep. I had assumed that a room had been pre-booked for me by my friend Adam and that they would be expecting me.

Remember, I am the only foreigner to go there and therefore expect everyone remotely connected with me to know about my coming. This is usually the case. From the reaction of the non-English-speaking staff, I guessed this was not so. They gave me a registration form to fill in. It was all in Chinese, so I just smiled sweetly, handed it back and said my famous Bu Dong - don't understand. There followed a five minute mini-conference between the three staff and they gave me the form again, perhaps in the hope that in that five minutes I had either learned to read Chinese or remembered that I really could have read it all along. A few more Bu Dongs followed by a Ming Tien - tomorrow - seemed to settle the matter and I was taken to my room - the bridal suite by the look of it and compared to other rooms I had slept in here. At about six-thirty, I got to sleep. I knew I would be woken by my Xiapu friends at any time from seven-thirty on. I was not wrong. (Oh, the reason I was unexpected is that Adam thought I was coming the next day).

Perhaps I should tell you a little about the return journey now. When I was at the station waiting to board the bus back to Xiamen, I noticed that it was the same bus that I had come up on - the one with no clutch. I knew it was the same bus because whenever I travel any distance by bus I always memorize the license plate - many buses look the same (and in China, so do the occupants of the bus) and I have always had a dread of getting on the wrong bus and ending up somewhere where I couldn't be rescued from - like a bus of prison visitors or something equally as weird. I told Susan - the English teacher - that it was the same bus (her husband is the manager of the bus depot) but she said it was not possible. I insisted and she asked the driver. He confirmed that I was right but assured her that the bus was now perfect and there would be no problems. Eventually, I boarded the bus, waved my goodbyes and the bus reversed out of it - straight into the garage. A mechanic dived into the engine compartment for 45 minutes and emerged looking triumphant. We left Xiapu at 5.50pm., fifty minutes late. Still, I reasoned that it was better to do repairs here than on some mountain road in the dark. Ten minutes out of Xiapu, we stopped at another garage. I had a front seat on the bus and could see what was happening. Another mechanic came and took off the front grille and jiggered around for ten minutes or so, then he boarded the bus and tinkered around with the dashboard cover. He left the bus and returned a few minutes later with something in his hand - a car cassette player. Yes, we had stopped to have a cassette player installed. After a few more minutes the mechanic took a tape out of his pocket and tried his handiwork. Chinese traditional music - painful screeching to my ears - filled the bus. He checked that all the speakers were working which, regretfully for me, they were. He removed his tape, some money changed hands and he went back to his garage. The bus driver pulled off. Now, we were about one-hour-twenty-minutes behind schedule. No-one cared.

After a few minutes of being mobile, the driver reached onto the dashboard shelf and produced a music cassette which he inserted. I heard about three seconds of music then the tape distorted. The music was playing at quarter speed and then double speed. The driver reversed the tape, the same thing happened. He tried another tape, same thing. A third tape performed in the same way. He had no more tapes. I was so happy. No screeching music. Perhaps there is a God. The rest of the journey was uneventful.

Now that I have visited Xiapu so many times, the interesting things to see there have all been seen. My interest is primarily to get to know the people, and in this sense I am delighted with my progress. Xiamen is much like many other cities in the world, Xiapu is more like the real China that I came to see. Here, I get to meet people whose existence is just that, an existence - they dare not dream of getting to the west, travelling in an aeroplane, or even getting out of their area for a holiday. In Xiamen, the educated people are hustling and ambitious and many who talk to me do so because they have dreams of getting to the west and hope I can help them in some way. But even in Xiapu, there are, of course, many different types of lifestyle. I will give you two examples. The first is of the business class and of government officials (called cadres by the westerners).

Whenever I go to Xiapu I am wined and dined by businessmen and government officials. Actually, I prefer to spend my time with the teachers that I have come to know so well, but they get persuaded to invite me to dinners. Once or twice, I have been taken outside of the town to another small town to meet other officials or businessmen there. Let me tell you about these trips, they are interesting.

The first time I was taken to a place called Sansha, it has a 'reputation' I was told. Only when I got there did I discover what its reputation is. Getting there was an experience in itself. First, we caught a bus from Xiapu shortly after a business lunch - excellent seafood and plenty of drink - and headed north up the coast, but only for about twenty minutes. Then, the bus joined a small queue of halted traffic. After a few stationary minutes people started to get off the bus. I was with five male friends and left the bus with them to see why we had stopped. There is a new road being built between Xiapu and Sansha and we had arrived at the first part of its construction. The reason we were stopped is because they had just laid fresh tar on the road and the workers - male and female - were throwing dry dust over the tarmac. We were told that we could not continue the journey until the tar had dried. How long would that be? Two to four hours, maybe more. We just had to wait, we had no choice. I walked to where the construction was taking place and noticed, by Chinese standards, a wide road, certainly wide enough for two buses to pass each other without slowing down. Yet they had decided to tarmac the whole road. I asked why they didn't just tarmac one side and let traffic travel down the other, then when the tarmac was ready they could have traffic travel down the other side. Everyone I spoke to was surprised at my statement, no-one had thought of it. They agreed it would have been a good idea but offered no reasonable explanation as to why I was the only one who thought of this.

Anyway, I decided that if I was going to be stuck there for up to four hours, or perhaps more, then I would get some sleep in the shade of the bus. However, before I could we saw a large group of people walking towards us along the new road, coming from the direction we were headed for. When they reached us they told us that there was a bus at the other end which would take us to Sansha and the bus we had come on could turn around and take them back to Xiapu. This seemed sensible, so we gathered our belongings and started walking - so did everybody else from our bus and the other buses that were now waiting there. People were carrying amazing loads, but carry them they did. We walked for about an hour before meeting the other bus. We got on this and started our journey again. Within a few minutes I decided that I preferred to walk. The road surface was unbelievable.

In order to build a road, huge rocks are broken down, by hand, into rocks small enough to carry, by that I mean a man could just about carry one small rock. This was then thrown into the road, joining the millions of others already there. There was no attempt to level these. In fact, the surface was so erratic and uneven, that to walk on it for more than a few minutes would have assured several falls, twisted ankles and grazed legs. Yet the bus, at about 5 miles per hour, was having to travel this - and did so for two hours. We were bumped, jostled and thrown about for two painful, stomach-wrenching hours. I banged my head and body on every solid thing, including people, within falling-about reach.

Most of the Chinese slept through this, I could not believe it. I was extremely relieved when the road levelled out a few miles from Sansha but reminded myself that I still had to make the return journey. It was, by far, the worst road surface I have ever seen - pot-holed country tracks are billiard-table smooth compared to this road. I was assured that the road would be finished by next summer. I thought of all the poor souls who used this road daily as a commuting road between Sansha and the bigger town of Xiapu.

When we reached Sansha (which is a small, almost 'one street' sort of place) we headed straight for the harbour where we were met by some of my friends' friends. These were government officials and a high ranking policeman. They had hired a boat for us to go out to sea and look at the coastline. It was a worthwhile trip: the scenery was beautiful and we sailed in between many strange-looking boats. These were huge wooden ships from Taiwan that looked like something from the stories of Sinbad the sailor.

Some of the guys wanted to swim, I did not, so we went back to the town and my friends swam in the bay while I was escorted to the harbourside. Here, one of my friends asked me if I wanted to wash and relax. After the horrendous journey, that sounded like paradise, so I accepted.

He took me to a shop which looked like a ladies hairdressing salon but we walked through the place and out to the back. Here, there was a cave leading into the hillside. The cave was about eight feet high and about 15 feet across at its widest point. It seemed to run quite deeply into the hill above it. The walls of the cave were dripping, wet stone. On the left, as one entered the cave, were some wooden walls with doors in them. I was invited to open a door and look inside. Behind each door was a bathroom - by that, I mean a stone floor and a huge, ceramic, square bath with a seat on one end which would have been submerged in water when the bath was filled, a sink to wash hands and a few coat hooks for clothes. The room was lit by a single, low wattage light bulb.

My friend assured me that to bathe would be very refreshing and I did want to wash the journey's dust and grime from my body, so I accepted. He told me to go into one of the rooms and said he would send someone to help me. I wondered who. I know my presence in Sansha had caused a bit of a stir as westerners are as rare as hen's teeth in this remote part of the world and I could not imagine that anyone here would be able to speak English. My friend assured me that he would be in the next room.

After a few minutes, the door opened and a tall (well, as tall as me), beautiful Chinese girl came in. She had the traditional long black hair and slender figure. I guessed she was about 20 years old. I greeted her first in English and then in Chinese. She responded in Chinese. No English. I looked at her and shrugged my shoulders trying to say, "What happens now?" She removed her sandals and came to me. She started to unbutton my shirt. I called out to my friend in the next room, asking him what the hell was going on. I am 45 years old and not stupid. What I didn't want was AIDS, Syphilis or any other 'social disease'.

"Relax," he assured me, "she will just help you to bath."

I haven't needed to have help to bath since my mother decided I could do it on my own when I was about six years old.

Still, I'm all for new experiences and allowed the woman to fill the bath with hot water, test it and undress me. She indicated that she wanted me to get into the bath, so I did. .... Well, she shampooed my hair, washed my body, and gave me a shoulder and back massage. I remember thinking that she did it much better than my mother.

When she had finished, she beckoned me out of the bath and she dried me and helped me on with my clothes. She then... led me back to the hairdressing salon where she blow-dried and brushed my hair for me. She seemed fascinated by my long, wavy hair - they don't see that in Sansha.

When all was done, my friend told me that he had paid for both of us. When I asked how much it had cost he said that it was about 40 RMB each (about three UK pounds or less than US$5). A bargain, I thought.

We then joined the rest of the guys at the harbour. They had finished their swim and said that it was time to eat. We were taken to an hotel where a private dining room had been reserved for us. So, ten men sat at a huge round table and the food, and an excess of drink, started to be served.

Here, I should remind you of the Chinese social custom of treating a male guest. They try like hell to get you drunk. They do this by way of each one of them toasting you with the word, Gambay, which means, "Bottoms up", or "drink up,” literally it means, “dry glass”). They will do this many times each. Before they do this they always ensure that your glass is full. A glass is one third of a half-litre bottle (very roughly, a glass = a third of a pint ). This does not sound much but when they are toasting you every minute, it does not take long to get drunk. I am, by now, well versed in this custom and have the dubious reputation in Xiapu of being a good drinker and on this occasion I proved it. Everyone of the others got drunk and I was only partially drunk. This custom I have related in previous travelogues.

However, there is another custom they have which I was meeting for the first time.... [censored!]

.... The rest of the night was spent in much the same way as all over the world when a group of men get together for a drinking spree and I finally went to my hotel room and slept alone.
The following night was in absolute contrast to that one. We spent the night in Sansha and caught a bus at seven in the morning back across that dreaded road (the tarmac had dried by then) and I looked forward to the highlight of my trip.

I had finally gotten permission to go to a restricted village and had arranged to go with Susan and her husband. There were conditions on this and those were that I took no photographs of the village, its people or the track that led to the village. I also promised that I would not write about it. These promises I will keep. Nothing much will happen to me if I break the promises but the repercussions for the family and the village would not be pleasant. I can, however, tell you a few things about the trip.

I met with Susan and her husband at nine in the morning upon my return from Xiapu and Li Mei was with them. Susan's husband does not speak English but Susan does and was to be my translator and chaperon. She would tell me what to do, how to behave and when to stop taking photographs. The day was very sunny and very, very hot. We boarded a small, 20-seater bus at about 9.30. It was crowded.

One man had loaded a medium-sized refrigerator onto the bus to take to his home; others had those huge baskets which dangle from each end of a bamboo pole and carry tremendous weights; others had children, shopping of crabs and seafood. About thirty people and their shackles were squeezed unbelievably onto the bus. One very attractive woman had twin sons, aged about twelve, with her and one of them was not happy. He started shouting and ran off the bus. The mother chased him and tried to persuade, then coerce and then drag him back to the bus, but he would not come. Everyone on the bus waited patiently while this matter was being resolved. It was going to take more than a few moments. No-one commented or even watched the struggling mother. While we were waiting, there was a knock on the bus window and there was Ben, one of the officials from Xiapu who had been with me the night before in Sansha. He spoke to Susan and I was told to leave the bus. Susan and Li Mei left also but Susan's husband did not. Apparently, Ben had some business in the town nearest to Li Mei's village and had an official car. He said he would take us to the town in the car but he had two colleagues with him and there was no room for Susan's husband. So, we three squeezed into the back of an average saloon car along with Ben. There was a driver and another man in the front. The car was just a little less cramped than the bus. When we left, the woman was still trying to get her son onto the bus.

The road to the tiny town of Chang Chun was pot-holed, dusty and rough but was much better than the road to Sansha. When we arrived there, Ben and his friends headed off to the north and Susan, Li Mei and I found some shade in front of a shop and waited for Susan's husband to arrive on the bus. While we were waiting there was a bit of a stir in the town. It was because of me. The word was going around the town that another foreigner was in town. There was boasting that now the town had had two foreigners visit it. Many people came to stare at me, but they were all friendly. Some thought I was a woman because of my long hair. Others compared me to the other foreigner who had been there - Charles, the anthropologist.

After twenty minutes or so, Ben returned with his workmates and invited us to lunch. We ate in an open air, two-tabled restaurant. The food was good and the beer was cold. After the meal, they left and a few moments later Susan's husband joined us. He ate and Li Mei went off to find her father who had been waiting for us since six that morning. It was then twelve-thirty. Li Mei did not find her father but took us to a house where her father would be. When we got there, her father and about thirty other people were waiting to meet us. There then followed a long discussion on whether I was fit enough to make the long mountain climb to the village. The father thought I was not, some others, including me, disagreed. I was quite insistent that I could do it. Li Mei's father is crippled in one leg; Li Mei is a 17 year-old schoolgirl and Susan is a thirty year old teacher who rarely gets outside her town to exercise, and they were worried about me! The truth is, they think us westerners are pampered in luxury and not accustomed to the hardships of Chinese country life. They are right. No way could I survive very long the way that they work and live. They are very careful over guests and foreigners are so rare that they are over-cautious. Eventually, I won through but only on condition that I carried an umbrella. The Chinese carry umbrellas all year round (they accuse us British of always having an umbrella but they use them when it is raining and when it is sunny. You will see as many umbrellas on a sunny day in Xiamen as on a drizzling day in London). I accepted the umbrella but was damned if I was going to use it. We started off the mountain climb in the blazing heat of early afternoon. Actually, the father did not join us. He had some shopping to do and would 'catch us up'.

The path to the village is very narrow, one person wide, steep and occasionally hazardous (in the winter and when it rains in the spring, the track is a nightmare) but the scenery is worth it all. I wondered how people could grow so many crops so high up and so far away from anywhere. But they do. Rice is grown using the plateau system (if you don't know what that is, look in your old school geography books) but other crops are also produced, such as huge watermelons. I wondered about having to carry these heavy watermelons down to market everyday.

The journey took us just under two hours to do and when we finally came upon the village it seemed to appear out of nowhere. We turned a bend and there is was, nestled in a tiny valley between some close mountain peaks.

I am not permitted to write about the village, or those who lived there, that will have to wait until we meet again when, if you are interested, I may be able to tell you about it.ut the village and [Now in 2004, I am able to write about the village and show photos – these will be added as “Travelogue Addendum” as soon as I can get down to it and when I can update you on the most recent situation of those mentioned in the 1990s travelogues – SB] I can I can tell you, however, that the hospitality I received there, the warmth of the people and the food were all as close to heavenly as they were as close to heaven in the mountains. I was staying overnight and the meal they prepared for me was what they would have thought of as a banquet. There is much I would love to tell you here but am unable to do so. The father made sure that I had a constantly filled glass of beer and I noticed about two dozen bottles of beer there. He does not normally drink but for politeness sake joined me in a tipple. It occurred to me that some poor sod had to carry all those bottles up that mountain. It turned out that the crippled fathr had carried the beer up the mountain for me. Most of the food was home grown or home killed - duck, chicken, goose, pork and beef.

Both before and after dinner I persuaded Li Mei to take me farther into the mountains and she told me that in some of the places we went to, I was the first ever westerner to go there. Can you imagine my feelings when I knew that - the first ever westerner to go there. I felt like the first man on the moon. I felt wonderfully privileged and marvellously lucky. It is a feeling I will never forget and treasure for the rest of my life. I only regret that I cannot share the place with you in photographs or writing. Who knows, maybe next time, when the authorities trust me more, I will be permitted. I was told several weeks after I returned to Xiamen that Susan had a visit from the police who wanted to know everything that I did and saw and said on that trip. They went away satisfied with her answers.

I slept that night in the same house as the peasants but had great difficulty getting to sleep. Some might say that was because of the gigantic spider that was watching me from just above the door, but I know my sleeplessness was caused by my elation at being there and being allowed just to share a tiny portion of these peoples' lives. I felt, that night, and still do, that I had learned so much more about another part of the 'real' China. I still have to remind myself that I am so fortunate; it is difficult to believe that just over a year ago I was in the hustle and bustle of a British city with all of its own individual ways of living, and then, there I was, on a peasant's bed at the top of a Chinese mountain in a restricted village. If I sound pleased with myself I hope you will forgive me and understand.

The following morning I was woken at 4.30am for breakfast. It was decided to go back down the mountain before the morning got too hot and before the bus journey back to Xiamen got too tiresome. Li Mei's mother joined us on our journey down the mountain to do her daily shopping in Chang Chun. I thought of her having to climb back up the mountain with her supplies before starting her work in the rice fields.

When I returned to Xiapu I discovered that Ben and his friends had waited for me to return to Chang Chun, so they could take me back in the car. They did not believe that I would stay overnight. They waited for five hours for me before giving up at ten at night and returning to Xiapu.

Back in Xiapu, I had a further two days of entertainment to enjoy - including eating snake a few times and getting a little drunk more than once, but not too drunk, I refuse to do that again in Xiapu. Twice is enough.

Two days later, I returned to Xiamen, a wiser and happier man. I feel that in my time here, I have learned far more about China and the Chinese than I ever thought I would in such a short time.

There are many things I do not report in these travelogues - here, some things are wiser kept in one's head or until I return to western soil, and even then, I shall not write about them, but will talk, on a personal basis, about these things. China is a strange land, indeed. I hope these travelogues give you a tiny taste of that. The best way, of course, is to come and see for yourself.

Not everything in China is easy to understand and sometimes we never get the answers to some mysterious goings on. Diana had one experience which we still do not understand and constant questioning of our Chinese friends has failed to produce a satisfactory answer.

One Saturday afternoon in early summer, Diana decided to go to the local beach for a walk and a sit on the sand. The beach was, as usual, busy with visitors and plenty of students. Before she found a place to sit, she noticed a small crowd of people, close to the water's edge, looking at something on the ground. Thinking that it might have been some strange fish or sea creature, she went to investigate.
What she saw was the dead and naked body of a Chinese boy, aged around 15. He had probably drowned. Naturally, Diana was shocked and retired to a nearby rock to observe what would happen next. Eventually, the curious crowd dispersed and the body was left alone, face up and naked. No-one covered it.

For one hour, nothing happened. People walking along the water's edge suddenly came across the body, which from the distance would appear like a sunbather, and reeled in shock when they saw what it was. Others, watching close by, laughed at the shocked reactions of people. Two girl student-types, flying a kite, often jumped over the body in their play. Children were taken by their parents to have a closer look at it. Diana was sickened but determined to stay to see what happened. The people on the beach just did not care.

After one hour a few policemen arrived. They donned some plastic gloves and examined the body, presumably for signs of foul play. Having found nothing of interest, they dragged the body further up the beach out of the reach of the incoming tide and left. They left the body there, naked and uncovered.

Diana waited for another three hours to see what would happen next. Nothing happened. The naked body was still there, exposed for all to see. After three hours she had to leave for a rendezvous with me. When I met her, she was distressed, confused and angry. Why had they left the body there, naked, for so long? When would it finally be removed? All we know is that the next day it had gone. We later learned that it was the body of a 15 year-old peasant boy from a fishing village further up the coast. Why he was naked, we never found out - maybe he always swam that way.

No-one was ever able to explain why the body was left on the beach for over four hours - and who knows how much longer? It did remind me of a story I reported in my second travelogue when I saw a traffic accident victim's body left in the road, uncovered, in a pool of blood. It had obviously been there for some time. I don't know why they leave bodies lying around like that. I keep telling myself that this is a very different culture and that I must not impose my western standards upon my observations of this country, but sometimes it is difficult not to. It is difficult sometimes to just shrug your shoulders and say, "Oh well, that's China."

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