The New Tale of the Great Wall
Juliet Leun
985,
Great Wall, Beijing
chan
was
acro
g, Group 3: Fiction, Heep Yunn School
The saying goes that he who has never walked the Great Wall is not a true man. Having had the
ce to study in America, I returned to my homeland, thirty, with a family, a business and believing I
successful. My younger years were spent with this five-thousand-mile-long dragon that stretches
ss northern China.
A few days ago, I huffed and puffed heaving myself up my old playmate, blaming the States for
robbing me of my agility. Under the azure sky, I couldn’t help but see that it was not as bright as the one of my
memories. Still, the glamorous, postcard-picture was imprinted in my brain. I strolled along its spine, admiring
the fact that it has been on the verge of crumbling for at least a thousand years, and yet it has stayed upright.
1
As a child, I literally lived under the shelter of the Great Wall, and was a frequent visitor during the
first decade of my life before my family decided to move to America. A sunny afternoon would have found me
prowling near a watch tower. I knew that little part’s nooks and crannies like the back of my hand.
Now, strolling across this familiar strip, I observed more people than that of my childhood, and a
considerable number of vendors selling souvenirs and knick knacks. Avid Japanese tourists in their smart suits
were raising their state-of-the-art cameras at every sight, and Europeans were poking their noses in every corner,
baffled by how China could have beaten them in building a fortification that’s longer than the Berlin Wall and
the Hadrian Wall. Then, something and someone caught my eye.
A healthy-looking elderly man was setting up his little cart of exquisite souvenirs. He had flowing
silver hair, and his cheeks were vibrant with health. However, one of his sleeves billowed in the wind, and I
realised that one of his arms was missing. With one hand, he set out a plaque. Chinese characters were written
on it, as well as, three English words: Buy A Memory. Amused, and a bit bemused, I approached him when he
dropped some goods and struck up a conversation with my now rusty Chinese.
“
Here, your things.”
“
Thank you, young man.”
“
Isn’t it tiring? Climbing up here every day takes some effort.”
“
Oh no, I love it here. This Wall is the best place in the world. I’ve spent my life here.”
“
I see. Did you court your childhood sweetheart here?”
“
Well…Yes, she’s still with me now, I lost this for her,” indicating his missing arm. Then he told me a
story, of how he became a true man of the Great Wall.
1930,
Beijing
He saw a young lady with raven dark hair that looked smoother than silk. Her eyes were bright and
deep, full of wisdom. She wore simple clothes, but nothing, thought the boy, nothing could cover her beauty. A
young lad of 15, he tasted his first crush. The Chinese were extremely conservative, and he was shy, which
didn’t help. For a month, he watched her walk past nearly every day, but lacked the courage to ask her name.
Until one day.
It was raining cats and dogs, and the girl raced by. High was the Great Wall, but it didn’t shield her
from the merciless wind and rain. The boy ran out, and offered her his jacket as shelter. The girl looked at him
shyly, but all the gratitude was displayed in her magnificent eyes. She ran into her cottage, and the boy was left
dazed as he trudged back home, sodden with rain, yet in high spirits.
They saw each other frequently since then, and the rain was not an excuse. They took lengthy walks on
the Great Wall, dreaming about their future. They dreamed of a better life, better harvests, of a day when
poverty and illness wouldn’t come knocking. They looked at the azure sky, then into each other’s eyes and they
constructed a future, as long, as wide, as ambitious as the Wall itself.
1933,
Beijing
War came.
At first, there were just small, scattered air raids, and their area was still left unscathed. They were
worried, but they still strolled along the Wall and looked into the future. The sky was still blue, and the dragon
was always ready for them. On it, they soared far and wide into their imagination.
Then, war hit home.
The signs were not prominent, as if the planes worked clandestinely. There wasn’t even a warning. He
was walking her home from the Wall, as usual, discussing the war’s damage on neighbouring villages and how
they would react if the Japanese suddenly decided that they would bomb their area.