As a first generation Canadian immigrant from
the massive pre-1997 Hong Kong exodus, neither
myself nor my parents ever envisioned me returning
to China. Yet I have always felt an irresistible
draw to my homeland. Having led a rather nomadic or as
some have called it, "cosmopolitan" lifestyle, I still continue
to struggle with the question of home and identity.
Rewind a few months and you will find me at a crossroads
in my life, not knowing where to go next or what to do. So I
packed up as much as I could carry and got on a plane to
China. I decided to visit Fujian province, where my grandfather
was born- my heung ha. It seemed like a good place to
start my journey of self-discovery.
As soon as I landed in Xiamen, it felt much easier to
breathe. I had left behind the humid and polluted air of
Guangzhou and exchanged it for a crisp and slightly salty
breeze. Palm trees lined every avenue. I was almost convinced
I had accidentally got on the plane to Hawaii. First
stop: lunch at Huangzehe Restaurant (20 Zhongshan Lu). It
was a delicious and filling meal for under 20 yuan. I tried
their famous peanut soup with some skepticism, as it looked
like concoction of boiled peanuts floating in milky water, but
after one sip I was hooked. The restaurant is right in the middle
downtown Xiamen, perfect for an afternoon stroll.
I felt right at home here as Xiamen is a university town,
with plenty of foreign students. The campus is lovely – it's one
of the three most scenic campuses in China, and has green
spaces galore. You can hear the giggling of young couples
in love whilst strolling around the pond under hanging willow
trees -- like something out of a picture book.
Near the university, the Brown Sugar Café is perfect for a
rainy day (2/F 82 Cen Tou Road, Jimei District, tel: + 86 (0)592
622 0738). I fell in love with this place the instant I arrived. I
felt a wave of nostalgia for those carefree college afternoons
during which we would bring our books to study and instead
sit for hours just talking and laughing. The back wall was
lined with CDs of all genres and a plethora of books and
magazines filled every available space. Underneath an old
globe was a stack of board games to choose from. I spent
that afternoon (and quite a few more) munching on their fluffy

hot bread rolls and slurping up their cheesy, orgasm-inducing spaghetti bolognaise.
And their lassis are to die for.
I waited for a sunny day to hit up Gulangyu, a beautiful colonial island that is the
place to visit in Xiamen. It certainly did live up to expectations. The winding streets
promised hidden gardens behind dusky pink walls. The buildings formed a mesmerizing
collage of pastel colors. There were shops with all manners of dried sea
creatures and other trinkets. Since almost everyone I passed was drinking out of
a coconut, I decided to give it a go. Disappointingly, it was a bit sour and diluted,
waste of a few kuai. I wandered out of the main area and decided to walk all the
way around the island. After walking for about thirty minutes in the unrelenting heat,
I discovered stretches of beach lined with shaded plastic tables, where I could take
my tea with ice cream.
Exhausted from all the walking, the next day I decided to soak my weary bones at
Riyuegu Hot Springs Resort about forty minutes away. They have free shuttle buses
running from various convenient locations in town. The busses only operate on request
and on weekday afternoons, so it's a must to call ahead. The resort is a huge
veritable theme park of baths with different kinds of flowers, and serving both tea
and alcohol. They're all fairly similar and not very well maintained. You can get all
sorts of spa services, but prices are on the steep side for China. The restaurant offers
some unique delicacies, most notably their hot spring egg, which tasted like a
normal hard boiled egg with a slight sulphuric tang.
Nanputuo Temple complex is also, quite rightly, on Xiamen's must see list. In the
courtyard you are greeted by a gigantic lotus pond with a majestic looking path leading
up to the entrance. There's a quiet and meditative air about the place, despite the
clamor of pushy tourists. If you wander through a nondescript archway you might just
catch a glimpse of a monk suspended in stillness. The locals come here to chat and
play cards. The Fujianese are a friendly lot, and they took me for one of their own,
but their local dialect was impossible for me to understand. They pointed to my high
nose, the mark of a true Fujianese, but all I could do was smile and sadly shake my
head. Sitting in that vibrant temple enclave, watching the sky shake out sheets of rain
over Xiamen city, I wondered if my grandfather had come here as a child. Before we
left, I held up three sticks of incense and bowed three times, praying that my ancestors
would guide me on my journey.
The days passed rapidly and before I knew it, my last day in Xiamen had arrived.
From the balcony I could see the sun glinting over the bay and the early morning
bustle of the boat people hard at work. It was a perfect day to visit Haiwan Bay
Park for one last seaside stroll. The boardwalk continues for miles in both directions,
passing beaches, and winding around the coastline. I savored the sweet taste of salt
in the air and the sand rushing between my toes, knowing with every step that the
journey was not yet over.