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In the mountainous regions of southeast China lie collections of immense circular compounds, once mistakenly identified in aerial reconnaissance photographs as UFO’s or missile silos. Their novel design first attracted architects, and has now found an audience among China’s many tourists.
Known as “earthen buildings,” or tulou in Mandarin, the fortresses are made of packed mud, sand, and clay, fortified on the inside with bamboo and wooden beams. The outer walls are up to 2 meters thick and stand at an angle toward the center to protect against earthquakes. Windows line the top floors only, allowing a rifle’s aim at any bandits who dare to attempt invasion.
Centuries ago, a nomadic clan of Han, the largest ethnic group in China, who had grown tired of the dynastic wars, famine and upheaval of central China, fled south to Fujian Province. When petulant neighbors disturbed their sought-after peace around the 12th century, the group began building the innovative self-enclosed structures to protect themselves.
The original builders of tulou, the ethnic Hakka people, still speak a distinct dialect. Hakka, meaning “guest families,” was a term given to the migrating clans after their ancestors settled in provincial areas such as Guangdong, Hunan and Fujian provinces. Most of the communal homes were built between the 12th and 20th century, and many have stood for hundreds of years.
In contrast to its defensive outward nature, inside the Zhencheng tulou lives a peaceful community of 14 families—70 permanent residents—where inhabitants worship the same ancestors at a central shrine. They enjoy opera performances on a stage platform flanked by banners of calligraphy with messages promoting filial piety, Taoist and Confucian ideals. “Be modest to attain success,” reads one prominent display.
Residents and tourists mingle in a large courtyard, drinking tea and playing Mahjong as light rain falls through the opening above. The second floor is used for grain storage, in keeping with the community’s long tradition of self-sufficiency. On the third and fourth floors are rooms that house individual families and shared kitchens.
World heritage status
The villages of Yongding County, home to as many as 20,000 tulou, are located a three-hour drive inland from the seaport city of Xiamen. A thick mist hangs over lush vegetation in the subtropical climate, where tea and tobacco fields sustain those who haven’t yet made a living off the budding tourist industry.
The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) declared a total of 46 tulou compounds as World Heritage Sites in 2008, citing them as “exceptional examples of a building tradition and function exemplifying a particular type of communal living and defensive organization in a harmonious relationship with their environment.”
Those who still live in the tulou are proud of their habitat, and are quick to point out the pleasing fengshui associated with their homes, which often sit next to rivers and fertile fields. It’s unclear whether the new parking lots, paved on site to support a growing numbers of tourists, clash with the area’s qi (or aura).
The UNESCO announcement spurred a reverse migration as some young people who had moved to the city for menial work returned home to become tour guides, open restaurants or sell local goods at commercial stalls.
Li Rigeng, 62, grew up in the tulou and intends to stay permanently. When President Hu Jintao visited during Spring Festival in 2010, it was Li who greeted him—an event well documented in photographs mounted on the tulou’s inner walls and described in an animated retelling over a cup of black tea.
“I feel content living here,” said Li, who wrote a book about his life in the community despite only finishing primary school. The pure air, clean water, and quiet of the countryside offer an appealing alternative to city life, he said, especially now that business opportunities are on the rise.
Li was one of the first local entrepreneurs to develop a tourism infrastructure in the village, opening restaurants, hotels and a tour guide service. His eldest son left a teaching position at a city school to join the family business. A younger son works in Hong Kong at a bank.
Tapping the tulou
In the 1990s, new road construction surrounding Yongding allowed villagers to join the country’s mass urbanization, where construc- tion labor paid more than the modest earnings of a tea or tobacco farmer.
A new tourist center constructed in the style of a tulou cost 80 million yuan ($12.5 million) to build, an indication of the government’s commitment to developing the area as a top attraction for tourists seeking to experience Chinese heritage outside of the bigger cities. Repairs and renovations are also paid for by the government.
In 2009, Fujian officials announced a 5.6-billion-yuan ($800 million) investment in a highway project to expand accessibility to the area and increase tourism. In 2010, the number of visitors reached 1 million, compared to 700,000 in 2009 and 300,000 in 2008. Officials hope to bring in 2 million tourists this year.
You Ruifang is a tour guide who lives 10 km away from the tourist center in a small tulou that is home to eight families. She spoke of the community spirit in the house, where families often eat together—a tradition rarely seen in today’s urban high-rise apartments.
She spent five years working in the export business in Xiamen, but came back to join her former friends and classmates in the tourism boom. The best part of living in a tulou, she said, is that “it stays cool in the summer and warm in the winter,” made possible by the air circulation of its open-air design.
Despite the return of some former residents, most of the inhabitants include the elderly and the very young. Between the ages of 16 to 18, the majority of people are said to move away in search of work or study. After generations of families living under one roof, the question remains as to how long the clans will last in their current form.