The Dragon
Adriana Kelly Lee, Group 3: Fiction, Diocesan Girls' School
ummer 1987
I was finally here.
I felt my heart pound like a timpani against my chest, bursting with spontaneous excitement as the
tranquil summer day converged into a blur around me. The sky was a lovely pale blue, stretching wide
across the mountains – the colour of a robin’s egg, simply breathtaking. The sparse clouds were cotton
candy, dancing overhead like summer fairies. The chatter and buzz of tourists engulfed me; buzzing like
summer bees. But none of those sights could distract me from what I was intently focusing on – the Great Wall
of China, mighty and fortified as it was, waiting, patiently, for me to climb it.
For as long I can remember, I have always been intrigued by the dragon that probably stretched wider than
the area (squared) of my state and many neighbouring states combined. That’s how I always remembered it –
the dragon, painstakingly built, brick by brick, wall by wall, tower by tower, by people who looked just like me.
As I sat in class squashed between my blonde-haired friends and learned about the Declaration of Independence,
I kept dreaming about meeting the dragon and learning about those war stories – stories from the far away
country where I really was supposed to belong to, where I would look the same as girls my age, where I could
speak a language that had distinctions between older and younger siblings/ paternal and maternal relatives, and
where I could stop wishing I had blue eyes.
My parents said, “Li ying, you won’t like it. It’s a very long walk…” And they both shook their heads back
and forth, side to side, sighing loud, condescending sighs, as if being dramatic would stop me from wanting to
go.
But I said, “Bu dao chang cheng fei hao han. I won’t be a hero until I visit the Great Wall! I want to be a
hero. A beautiful hero. That’s what my name means.”
Even at seven, I sure knew how to play with words.
Summer 1987
I finished college, took a year off travelling. That suited me perfectly -- I had not doubts about my
destination. It had to be Beijing, China. I was adamant that I’d like it, every single bit of it.
The thing that struck me most was the rhythm. People, who all looked like me, ebony hair, small eyes,
yellow skin, rushing here and there, dashing in and out of crowds, footsteps light and quick. This was China.
The astonishing quickness scared me – I came from a sleepy American town where life was slow; cars roamed
around, people roamed around – nothing seemed to happen.
But here, everything seemed to happen.
The cars rushed through the roads and honked whenever they got annoyed. Motorists whizzed in and out of
traffic. The people ran instead of walking. They knew how to cross roads without getting killed. But most
importantly, they knew the fastest way to get to the Great Wall.
After a whole morning of asking for directions with my mediocre language skills, through the rather dusty
window of the taxi, I glimpsed the words Chang Cheng.
I was finally here.
It was beautiful. The brick walls were a magnificent blend of coffee, chocolate and maroon, still standing so
strong, so mighty after all these years – a true miracle. The surrounding greenery and a picturesque sky were
incredible complements. This is a great place for any avid hiker.
That night, exhausted from all the hiking yet still enchanted by the Dragon, I sat and wrote my heart out.
Amid intense concentration, my ears perked up at the sound of a special news report:
“
The Great Wall has just been added on the UNESCO World Cultural Heritage List.”
The reporter announced with visible pride.
My heart erupted with joy and pride for the country which I truly belonged.
Summer 2007
The sky was a murky grey mingled with cloud and thick dust, which congestedmy airways and irritated my
eyes. I could barely visualize the shape of the mountains that I knew were so close, yet seemed so far away.
“
We’re here?” I wondered aloud, in a fluent Beijing accent I had picked up over the years.
“
Yes,” the driver said indifferently. He shot me a look as if to say, what did you expect.
I froze, rooted to the ground in awe. I squinted, and merely saw a vague shadow the body of the dragon
sleeping on the mountains. I squinted, and saw nothing of the beauty I saw back then.
S