Bronzed leaves parachute through the air before softly landing on bricks that form The Great Wall of China, a series of walls located along China’s historical northern borders.
Built by Qin Shi Huangdi, the first emperor of China during the Qin (Ch’in) Dynasty, the walls acted as a menacing warning to Mongol nomads against an invasion. Collectively, the walls are now an overbearing sight of manual labour and sobering in scale.
Steps along a path leading to one of the walls are so steep my calf muscles stretch profusely. My path is jammed with people of all ages and agility levels. Those who exert themselves early can be later found leaning and gasping for oxygen, wishing that bricks will absorb their fatigue. A stark contrast is a chain of secured padlocks which are strung along the path on a rope, each lock symbolising the unbreakable love of a star-crossed couple.
Where soldiers and officials once stood their territorial ground is now packed with buses and cars, fleeting tourists to attempt the famous climb. I press on as my hands slap against my thighs and I wonder whether soldiers from centuries ago could even fathom the thought that curious and eager tourists travel here to simply climb their fortress.
I turn a corner and meet a flurry of vendors selling fans, flimsy t-shirts, Coca-Cola and Chairman Mao paraphenalia, all shouting at me for my Yuan. What shouts even louder is Mao himself, reincarnated as a bright red banner stretched high above my head: “He who doesn’t reach the Great Wall isn’t a true man!” Mao screams at me for my loyalty and refuses to listen to my petty excuses of cramped legs and shortness of breath. Here, I decide to rest against an over 2,000 year-old wall. Yet I’m shrugged off forcibly; the wall reminds me that it’s not a cradle for my exhaustion.
Beijing’s smoggy city skyline to my right contradicts the rolling mountain ranges to my left; The Great Wall scissors through the middle of these two unparalleled worlds. Directly in front of me I can imagine fierce nomads storming down the hillside with weapons raised erratically in the air to forge a mighty attack. I also imagine optimistic caravans rolling out a soft track heading east via the Silk Road route. While modern China bades me to admire corporate skyscrapers, the Great Wall commands me to march on and take my post on the spine of this ancient engineering feat.
I step over the threshold of a watchtower to spy on tourists below, hoping to be awarded with a drop of Mao’s respect. Maybe I’ll make it. Maybe I won’t. And just maybe, becoming a man doesn’t have to mean complete and utter failure. My shoes transport my ambition to keep going and ghosts of centuries past echo in unison to cheer me on my way. A breath of wind dissolves the sweat from my brow. I drink mouthfuls of air and concentrate on my journey ahead.
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Great Post Tea,
I have always been fascinated by The Great Wall. I’ve done a little research before and found two stories on how the Manchurian and Mongolian tribes breached the wall.
One was that the Gates were actually opened in hopes of an alliance to defeat rebel forces already inside the Capitol. The othe is that the Mongolians simply went around the Wall eventually.
Not sure which is correct, but a lot of labor and lives were lost building the Wall and then to have it breached after all that time. History is bizarre at times.
Thanks heaps Eye!
What was also truly unbelievable was the clash of worlds – Beijing in one direction and the Wall in the other. Simply amazing.
But the toll these walls had on China’s people was definitely overwhelming. You get a sense of that when you’re there.
I often wonder what folks from ages past would think of us tramping over plots of land they fought and died for. It is amazing to me how many lives have been lived before ours, and visiting these ancient spots always makes me think of bygone days and experiences.
Going to the Great Wall only brought this home even more Miss R. Plus, these structures always made me feel so insignificant!