Three steps off the gangway and I am viciously reminded of why I have a distinct distaste for modern day mainland china. As my steps echo through the vastness of the empty terminal my eyes are already starting to sting and my sinuses beginning to close up at the back of my throat is the mild uncomfortable feeling of having swallowed something akin to sandpaper. Yesterday, the air quality here in Tianjin was 86…higher (apparently) than the World Health Organization recommends for more than 24 hours of safe exposure. You cannot see the skyline across the harbor for the smog. Welcome to China, the only country in the world that I am apparently allergic to.
That said, there are a few things that I know are absolutely worth getting out into that somehow yellow-feeling air. The Great Wall is and always will be one of them.
It’s very early, and the only vehicles in the parking lot are the three long red tour buses that are taking the crew out to walk those historical stones. The bus is, as I sit scribbling in my notebook, empty but will soon be full of voices in at least five different languages. It’s been several seasons since I was on a long crew tour, so I find I have almost forgotten what it’s like in these early morning hours.
Amras is relegated to the ship today due to visa restrictions (China is very strict, some would almost say unreasonable, about such things) so the seat next to me is empty. While I’m disappointed he isn’t here, I’m glad I’m not stuck sitting next to anyone else. It’s a long ride, and an empty seat means I can sleep more easily.
***
It was a two hour trip out to the wall. The air – sadly – didn’t clear as we got further from the city, a fact I tried very hard not to think about as it serves no purpose except to make me angry with the state of things. The tour guide tried perhaps a little too enthusiastically to get us involved in his historical lecture, which to be fair we were not the least bit interested in (at least most of us weren’t), two hour drive that started before 7? We just wanted to sleep.
When we did get there, I found myself in a very different circumstance than the last time I had been. The section of the wall we were visiting was comparatively empty. A few years ago when I walked these same stones there were hundreds more people, but today there was…almost just us! So instead of finding my own way as far as I could go I actually had people that I knew to walk with. Or rather…to climb with.
Yes, definitely climb is the right word, perhaps hike might be even better. I was later reminded that the steps were made for horses, not for people…which makes a lot of sense. I am most definitely not a horse!
Climbing the Great Wall is an experience like no other; and not only because it will push your physical endurance to the limit. The stairs are at times nearly vertical and each step comes up almost to your knee. It’s a tough go even for those who are in the best shape. But that’s not what makes it so unique. When you climb those towering steps you are physically climbing history. People fought here, bled here, died here. Not only warriors, but the workers who poured every ounce of themselves into the completion of what must have seemed an endless project. It is, perhaps, the longest graveyard in the world.as one of my favourite books growing up said. And when the living are silent, you almost feel like you should be able to hear the wall itself begin to speak. All the layers of all the energy and all the history worn smooth by so many countless footsteps have tales of their own to tell, if only we could figure out exactly what language they wanted us to hear.
There were hardly any people there today, something that caught me quite by surprise. The Wall was silent, at least as far as the living are concerned. Despite the violence that is undoubtedly associated with the place, there is a growing sense of peace here, as if the Wall has born witness to so much that it can no longer be concerned with petty things like living or dying. It simply is. Is. Was. Will be. Perhaps. The wall will not last forever, not if we are not careful. In the areas where it has not been restored for tourists it is already crumbled to nothing but the core…and perhaps that will soon fall.
Through sheer determination I actually made it to the highest point of the section of the Wall we were visiting, beyond that point is deemed unsafe for tourists and even if I had decided to brave it my legs were not going to allow it. By the time I started making my way down to the bottom each step felt as though it was going to send me tumbling. Clearly I am not in as great shape as I thought! Or perhaps no one would really be able to handle climbing that many steps.
The climb down was (for obvious reasons) a lot faster than the climb up, and I actually reached the bottom before most of my colleagues, only to find I had no idea where the exit was and I don’t speak a word of Chinese so I had to wait for them to catch up with me anyway! We eventually did find our way out, through the maze of a Chinese market that smelled of incense and spices and the inevitable gift shop, or at least the equivalent of a gift shop. I picked up the carved dragon I had forgone three years ago and a trinket for Amras as a small compensation for his not being able to join me, before making my way back to the bus to devour my packed lunch on the trip to the next stop at Dule Temple.
The Temple has not changed. It remains breathtaking and awe-inspiring and contains the largest wooden and clay figure in China. You are not supposed to take pictures of the buddha, and I was so ashamed that I had done so that I deleted what may have been the best photo I’ve taken in a long time. But I try to practice what I preach, and I wasn’t supposed to have that picture so I couldn’t bring myself to keep it. But the sight of that huge figure soaring up to the rafters is not something that will leave me any time soon even without the aid of a camera.
I suppose China and I have a mixed relationship, I grieve for what the country has become but respect and honour where it came from. Chinese tradition inspired one of the best short stories I have written to date (which I still have not finished but perhaps will eventually)…it is hard not to be in awe of a culture that can create such massive monuments as this. I suppose I feel a similar way about Egypt – although Egypt doesn’t make me sneeze or give me a headache.
Those of us lucky enough to walk alongside history on a daily basis (which, depending on your point of view is actually every one of us) must be careful – history is not just a lesson ,it is a warning. Listen carefully to what it has to tell you, for one day many years in the future it may be your grandchildren walking along places like the Great Wall…and for that alone, these places are dearly worth preserving.