I’ve
had some amazing drivers throughout my travels in Asia, and our driver to the
Great Wall was most definitely not one of them.
It didn’t help that I had to pee so badly that I didn’t even care about
seeing the stupid wall anymore as the driver lurched forward then jolted to a
halt over and over, unable to make any movement except the sudden slamming of
gas, brake, repeat.
The
highway leaving Beijing was surprisingly civil and well organized. I had heard about bad Chinese driving but assumed
it was similar Thailand or Nepal where cars weave in and out of each other
passing recklessly. In Beijing I didn’t
notice as much reckless driving as awful, slow driving. Traffic would accelerate and then the driver
would sit still for an exceptionally long time before jerking forward to fill
the gap. As I looked out I saw so many
cars doing the same, jerking to stops and starts, absent any concept of smooth
acceleration or braking.
Most drivers in
China learned to drive in the past 10 years and they don’t have the same
driving culture as in the States where we are prepared to drive riding around
as passengers from infancy. Yet this was
supposed to be a professional driving the van.
I was struck by the
level of development around us. The
highway had wide-open lanes with well-marked signs, and in between the lanes
there were freshly potted flowers.
Similarly, flowers and plants lined the roadside along neat little
houses. Surprisingly, the level of
development around Beijing was closer to that in America than that in Thailand
or Vietnam, let alone somewhere like Nepal.
As we left the
city we sloped up into steep brown and green hills where wild flowers and pine
trees covered the slopes. All of a
sudden “The Wall” appeared on both sides of us, winding up and down the rolling
hills.
We went past the
sign for Badaling, the most popular and restored section of the wall, then
turned towards the “Ancient Badaling” section.
The idea that young backpackers ironically want to go away from the
usual crowds and tourist locations must have been communicated to the tour
companies recently as all the advertisements for the tour emphasized the non
touristic-ness of this site.
Indeed, where we
got off the bus there was nothing but a dusty road going up through bushes with
a couple old buildings to the sides. I
raced to the toilet and then we got back onto the bus to head up to The Great Wall
itself.
Our tour guide met
us and gave a quick 5 minute intro that didn’t inform much about the history
much but again emphasized the non touristic nature of the location as he
bragged about how there were no souvenir stands and mocked the standard
Badaling section. “You know that’s not
the real wall because it goes in a circle.
The wall doesn’t go in a circle!
It goes all the way across China from West to East, almost 10,000 KM
from desert to sea.”
He advised us to
walk to 7 guard towers then turn back.
He emphasized that if we didn’t decide to turn back we would keep
walking for days as the wall really did go on and on to the end of civilization. Then he brought up a simple choice that left
out the option of making peace or finding a way to cooperate:
If you lived in
ancient China you had two choices. Build
the wall or fight. While you walk the
wall think of whether you would prefer to build or to fight. I would rather fight because you would die
anyway, and its noble to die in battle.
I’d rather that than die in the hot sun slaving over the wall.
Then we started walking up and all
of a sudden we were on The Great Wall. The section was somewhat restored or it
would just be a pile of bricks, but it was not as sterilized or picture perfect
as the other section must have been. The
steps were steep and uneven, and some were so narrow that a foot could hardly
step on them while others were very wide.
As we walked I
commented on how low the wall was and how it seemed easy to climb over. Then I realized that the low side was facing
China and the other side was much higher.
It was built into the hillside in such a way that the north facing side
was always high and built at the top of a slope. This side also featured constant holes for
shooting arrows whereas on the Chinese side there was a steady row of entrance
and exit points.
The guard towers
were thick and two storied, and were at vantage points to see out into
countryside. Soon we came to a flat
ridgeline and I commented that it seemed like the ideal spot to attack, as
every other spot required charging up a steep hillside. Yet as we got to this ridgeline we saw the
remains of an extra section of wall going out onto it to cut off this point of
attack.
I imagined the
workers who were buried in the wall. I
read that they used any building materials they could find, including the
bodies of the workers. In the famous
Chinese folk tale The Tears of Lady Ming the wall begins to fall down as
soon as each section is finished, and the emperor is told that it will stand if
he buries a man each kilometer. He
eventually buries a man named Wan in the wall since Wan means ten thousand and
he can bury one Wan in place of ten thousand regular men over the ten thousand
kilometers of the wall. Poor Wan was
seized from his wedding then his wife searched for his body all along the wall,
and the wall eventually yielded his body to her tears. Eventually the emperor set his eyes on Wan,
decided she was beautiful, and tried to marry her before she killed herself in
her despair.
This became a
symbol of the sacrifice of common people in the name of the greatness of
empires and the powerful. And as I
walked the wall I reflected on the lives that were sacrificed, the tears shed
for this symbol of imperial greatness. I
reflected on our tour guide’s pronouncement that the people’s choice was either
to fight or to build the wall. It seemed
like an emperor’s choice and I pondered what the cost would have been of making
peace with the Mongolians and the raiders.
It seemed that feeding both Chinese and Mongolian peasants and offering prosperity
o all must have been cheaper then a 10,000 kilometer wall. Of course, we are talking about the Mongol
hoards, not infamous through world for their peacemaking skills. Yet when the Mongols did break through and
take Beijing under the leadership of Kublai Khan the lives of the common
Chinese people stayed much the same as they had been under the Chinese
emperors, which points to the idea that the wall was for the glory of the
emperor rather than the safety of the common Chinese people. I drew immediate parallels to modern wall
building billionaires who build to their own vanity rather then finding a way
to live in harmony, love and balance.
Each guard tower
seemed further than the last as we stopped and enjoyed the blue skies and warm
rays of sun. We pretended to be soldiers
gazing out of the watchtowers towards the civilization of China on our south
and the land of barbarians to the north.
I tried to imagine the Mongol horsemen riding up as soldiers sent up
smoke signals and armies raced up and down the steep steps preparing for
defense.
Below us a group
of Dutch hippies blew bubbles and sang songs and even as a like-minded peace
lover it seemed a bit out of character on a structure built by force of will to
protect imperial civilization from barbarism.
We made it to the
6th watchtower, which was at the highest point we had seen so
far. We saw narrow canyons in the
distance and green hills that turned to blue, and in both directions the wall
went on, and on, and on. We realized
that we might not make it back in time if we continued so we began to hustle
back down the steep stairs. Even walking
the wall was exhausting and the idea of building it was truly incomprehensible. I marveled at the steady foundations of the
wall and the work that must have gone into sticking the stones deep into the
ground.
While the fact
that the wall exists is incomprehensible and truly makes it one of the wonders
of human history, walking it began to feel a bit underwhelming. Of course it was designed for practical military
reasons, not for beauty. At the end of
the day, it is a wall and you are walking on unchanging stones for as long as
you continue onward. I felt grateful to
have had the chance to see it but it was far less overwhelming than the
Forbidden City in its grandeur. The true
miracle of The Wall comes from its length, and at any time you can only
experience a small section of it.
I compare this to
other historic attractions that have truly blown me away to the point of being unable
to even think: places like the temples of Myanmar and the Forbidden City that
we had toured the day before—each left me speechless with their beauty. By contrast, while walking The Wall I had to
keep a dialogue going in my head about its relevance in history and how amazing
it was to truly appreciate it. I felt
almost guilty for not being more overwhelmed by such a famous attraction but
then Monica vocalized the exact same sentiment as we got back to the exit. I was grateful to have seen it but don't feel an aching need to return after having checked it off my list.
More on Beijing and visiting the Forbidden City:
http://aaronscc.blogspot.com/2016/07/beijing-1-forbidden-city.html
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