The Great Wall

Saturday morning I am jolted out of my slumber by my phone’s rude announcement of the arrival of a text message. “Are you coming?” It says. Suddenly I remember my first meeting with the Great Wall is today, a meeting that coincides with a friend’s birthday party being held at a remote section of the wall.

Getting out of bed I’m a little nervous about meeting the wall face to face for the first time. Will she look as good as she does in pictures, I wonder? Is her age obvious? Will her vast experience enthrall or intimidate me?

The clock beside my bed reads 10:57. The party bus is leaving in three minutes from Dong Zhi Men.

I step into the living room, glad I am already dressed. On top the living room table is an unopened bottle of whiskey, a pack of cheap cigars, a bunch of grapes and a note from a friend announcing he is on his way back to the United States.

Glad that he has taken the time to pack for me, I throw his gifts into my backpack and stumble for my shoes, yelling upstairs to wake my housemate, Gabe.

Gabe falls down the stairs, stuffing a frisbee and a fake chicken into a bag and we are out the door.

"Should we take a cab?"

"That would be like taking a cab from here to here," Gabe tells me. "We should just run." Before I get a chance to reply, Gabe grabs my backpack and takes off running, zigzagging through traffic across the busy street.

"Peaches, we need peaches!" Gabe yells, jumping onto the sidewalk towards a fruit stand. "No, theres no time for peaches!" He yells without stopping, cutting back towards our destination.

Fifteen minutes later we arrive at the bus stop panting and drenched in sweat, but its worth it. Three hours later I find myself at the Huang Huar section of The Great Wall.

The entrance to the wall is guarded by a fierce woman collecting a 2Y cover to cross what she says is her land to get to the wall. A boy with us refuses to pay, asking the woman to show proof of authority. He tries to muscle past her, but she blocks him with a swift hip check. As the boy tries to march past again the woman uproots a shrub and begings beating him with it. The boy admits defeat and leaves in a huff.

Although its not a battle I would pick to fight, I kind of understand why he was upset, as no one likes to be taken for a sucker, especially based on skin color and especially by a small woman wielding an uprooted sapling.

But I was sad to see him leave, not only because he would not make it to the wall, but because I was about to ask him if I could borrow 2Y.

My friend Annie and I, both stupidly without cash, plead with the woman to kindly let us pay later, but she refuses.

Just then a young Chinese couple walk by on their way down from the wall, stopping when they hear us begging in broken Chinese.

“Just let them go meet up with her friends,” the couple told the lady.

She refuses again and the couple, without hesitating, pulled out a 5Y note and paid our way. They walked on before the lady even gave them their change, smiling and telling us to enjoy ourselves.

When it comes to money, or anything else, I’ve found often people are more just good hearted than they are suckers. We thank the couple, and then, grinning, ran up the trail.

Meeting the Great Wall was nothing like I had expected. Instead, it was so much more than I could have ever hoped for, both beautiful and interesting in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

I found each piece of the wall unique. There is continuity in the structure, uniformity in the stones that compose it. Each step is built to suit the soil beneath, making the angle of the wall’s incline as nuanced as the topography it sits upon.

Fog descended thick as the day wore on, leaving everything invisible except for the wall. All I coud see was a long snake winding off into bleak white nothingness, testifying to more history that I could ever learn and to more distance than I could ever walk. I put my hand on a stone and wonder who else has touched it in the exact same spot.

On my way back, I see the woman who had been attacking one of the party members with the shrub. She smiles broadly at me, and I’m not sure if it’s a gesture of peace or an indication of her delight in watching me stumble barefoot across rocky ground in pouring rain. I decide to take it as the former and smile back, soggy and happy, promising myself I will return soon.