Each day we traveled into the desert it became hotter, and occasionally we were caught in a sandstorm. I would
use a scarf to cover my mouth and nose from the whirling sand.
Then the desert changed, pebbles and rocks littering the sand. This reminded me of my family and
home, and another lurch of homesickness took over. As we traveled this barren land, the similarities faded and
so did the homesickness. There was no life in this desert. Vegetation was the occasional weed or dead scrub.
The heat remained, although the sand dunes were now scarce. A yellow south-easterly wind blew at our backs.
Finally, we left the deserts behind.
In front of us lay the greatest wall ever made. It was the one thing I had been waiting to see my whole
life. And now it stood in front of me - but I was disappointed. Instead of a mountain high and a mountain wide,
it was merely eight times my height, and four times as wide. It’s still a wonder, I convinced myself. I had
dreamed of this moment, but now, with it standing in stone and brick before me, I felt disillusioned.
I still need to find a flower. I remind myself. That’s the real reason you came.
We passed the guard tower, and entered a village.
Rows of houses stood before me, glinting in the light of the setting sun, giving me hope. They looked
like little boxes topped with ribbed tents. Each rib was similar to the bamboo of which the trader’s cart was
made, but curving and graceful. We walked between the houses’ brick walls, me staring, open-mouthed and him
striding ahead. People passing wore light cotton garments and carried baskets exuding delicious smells. Soon
we came to the source of these aromas: the market. Brightly coloured fabrics, delicious food and goods were
displayed, but the trader passed them all. At the end of the row he stopped, producing some coins from his purse.
He gave these to a vendor, and took away two bowls of noodles.
“
Well,” he says, giving me chopsticks and a bowl of noodles, “we’re here.” As I slurped them down he
continued to talk. “Are you going back now? I would. I know what I said at the beginning, but I miss my family,
and I’m a seasoned traveler. You must miss yours doubly so.”
His words brought back what the sight of the village and the hot noodles had erased. My family. The
non-wilting flower.
My food was finished, so I got up to look around.
“
I’m just going to look around,” I say, then slip into the crowd. The flow carries me to the other side of
the market. And then - I see it. I push through the crowd, arriving at the stand, gasping for breath.
“
Please... can I... have... a... flower?” I gasp.
The lady operating the stall looks at me curiously. “You want one of these?” She asks incredulously.
Then she looks at my yak hide clothes and raises her eyebrows. “They are two yuan. You’re lucky: they’re on
sale.”
“
Please... I need the yellow one. It’s to make my family happy.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Oh, please.
I need it.” Tears stream down my face, and people are staring, but I don’t care. “I don’t have any money.
Please.” She shakes her head.
Then my saviour arrives. It’s Ming Cai, the trader. “How much do you need?” he asks curtly.
“
Two yuan.”
He glares at the lady. “You’re cheating! These dried flowers are less than half a yuan!”
“
Well. I say they’re two.” She wouldn’t change her mind.
Ming Cai looks at my dirty, tear-streaked face and pulls out two yuan.
* * *