Miles from Home

China Commentary– Youthful Musings on the Environment, Culture & Development

Dongshan Dao: A Test in Tourism Development

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China never lacks for a crowd.

China never lacks for a crowd, even in little ol' Dongshan.

I first visited Dongshan a few months back.  This time was different.  My girlfriend and I were going together.  It was to be our cheap little get away.  I’ve been on the road most of the summer, so we needed some time just the two of us– or, more accurately, just the two of us in a new crowd of strangers.

We were beaching it.  Relaxing in our hotel room, on the balcony, overlooking a nice stretch of cove.  We wanted to rent a bike, pedal along the coastline.  If we had time, maybe we’d pay a local fisherman to ferry us out to a nearby island.  It was a plan, bulletproof; great idea.  Done.

By the end of the first afternoon in Dongshan, I was in the dumps.  Literally and figuratively.  I couldn’t remember why I had wanted to come back.  A partial list of Day 1’s lowlights:

1.  Hotel owner bumped the price of a room up.

2.  Someone took a poop on the stairs leading to a stretch of beach, haphazardly covering it up with not enough tissue.  This still boggles my mind, because the culprit must have squatted in plain sight in front of dozens and dozens of other people who would soon need to walk back up those same stairs.

3.  A funeral.  I’ve been to Dongshan twice and seen three funerals.  Yikes.  Friends and family all dress in white and carry the coffin or ashes, pictures, and flowers to a final resting place.  On the walk, one guy finished his bottle of water and threw it on the ground.  Two steps further and he passed a trash can.  It made me not feel bad for him, and that’s messed up.funeral pic

4.  The charred corpse of a dead dog– on the beach.  Yes, you read that correctly.  A barbeque gone horribly wrong?  At least tell me who the jerk is that decided the beach was a fitting spot to toss the remains to decompose?  (NOTE: This is the second dead dog I have seen lying out in the public in two trips to Dongshan.  That may be a Guinness Book record.  Two-for-two!)

5.  Seriously, does there even need to be a #5?  A charred dog?!  On the beach!  Come on!

There’s a lot of talk about developing Dongshan into one of China’s A-list tourist destinations.  There’s a billboard when you come into town proclaiming, “Welcome to Dongshan, an international tourism destination.”

Some spots are well worth the trip.

Some spots are well worth the trip.

But the only person in town that seems to buy that line is the local party chief.  I was on the balcony when I overheard my girlfriend giggling about something on television inside.  She told me she just saw a commercial where this guy comes on and says something to the extent of, “Beautiful Dongshan, one of China’s premiere getaways.  Where the streets and the beaches are clean…”

The owner of my hotel told me over tea that Dongshan had long suffered from corrupt politicians who pocketed development money and ran.  In their wake, along the huge stretches of coastline, lie massive hotel compounds.  Some are complete.  Some only partially.  Almost all are abandoned.  Courtyards and gardens are now just dumping grounds for waste atop the rubble left during the hasty retreat from construction.  Weeds are cracking the paved entrances.  Windows are smashed in.  The gates are rusted over.

Dongshan is rusted over.

With the right leadership and bright ideas, Dongshan could be resurrected.  It would take a decade, at least.  But this is the problem in China.  When a site is designated a potential tourist market, the government leaps to action.  All the wrong action.  They build massive six-lane highways into small towns.  They dole out beneficial loans and land prices to developers.  But never do they gentrify old neighborhoods, help give citizens clean drinking water, build new schools, or launch new public service campaigns.

Neighborhoods are a mix of decay and potential.

Neighborhoods are a mix of decay and potential.

Whoever came up with the recipe for success in tourism has it like this:  One major highway (but no new bus station) + a massive, brand new police station built outside of town + a giant skyscraper government building in Soviet-era style + reliance on a bunch of outsiders to fund everything else = CHA-CHING!

It’s disturbing.  The people in Dongshan are woefully uneducated. I asked my girlfriend, what do these people think when they dump their trash on a beach or walk past a putrid pile of rubbish on the street?  Nothing, she said.  They don’t even know to think about it.  It doesn’t even register.

The entire community still relies on fishing for sustenance.  At night, you can see the blips of lights aboard fishing vessels on the horizon.  Fifty years ago, they needn’t venture out that far.  The catches they do bring back they dry everywhere.  E-ver-y-where.  Some homes in the old district have no rooves, but rather a grid of planks to dry squid and small fish.  The smell is ubiquitous in most sections of town.


And then the trash.  You lose count of how many people, local people, you see littering on the street each day.  Rusting, 50-gallon blue barrels are placed randomly on streets.  More wrappers and fish bones and soda bottles and toilet paper seem to never make it than those that do.  The stench will make your eyes water.  Five yards away, a pair of 10-year-old boys are squatting on the curb, smoking cigarettes.

To top it all off, people just aren’t that friendly.  The owner of the hotel we stayed in, this was the third time we have rented out one of his rooms (first time coming together), and he jacked the price up and refused to negotiate.  I paid more in the beautiful armpit of Dongshan, 100rmb/night, then I paid almost anywhere else I stayed throughout the much more beuatiful tourist spots of Yunnan, Sichuan, Zhejiang, and Beijing this summer.

Those plans to rent bikes or a scooter?  No.  That was the answer we got from everyone.  E-ver-y-one.  No one rents bikes in Dongshan, they told us.  Well how many bikes do you own?, we asked.  Two.  What about using one of those?  No.  Are you going anywhere today?  No.

Don't get me wrong, some parts of the trip were fantastic.

Don't get me wrong, some parts of the trip were fantastic.

We eventually found one young woman working at a small restaurant who was willing to let us use her old bike, for a 300rmb deposit and 25rmb for the afternoon.  But at least she let us use it!

At one point, I thought, wow, maybe I should come here and open a bike rental shop.  Maybe I could even invest in a small little dingy to take people around to the islands.  It would be cool, living on the beach, running a rental shop.  Give it a few years, wait for the tourism to pick up.  Then, I realized what the hell I was talking about?  Dongshan!  Come on, who was I kidding?  It felt like we were the only two tourists in town.  No one is coming.  Not now, and not anytime soon.

Is the sun setting on Dongshan's chances for development?

Is the sun setting on Dongshan's chances for development?

With the way the local people desecrate their own beautiful beaches, fail to make any effort in being friendly towards visitors, and show no hope of changing the habits in their children, Dongshan will remain buried under the rubble of a once promising tourism town.  Wasted.  Rotting.  Rusting.


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