Hitting the Wall

Rain and mysticism surrounded us as we ascended the Great Wall at Mutianyu. Meg and the boys were taking the gondola up - I took the stairs. I started quickly, leaping up the steps two at a time. After only a couple flights, I'm winded. I have to pace myself here, among all the other things I embark upon.

A faint scent like jasmine sits in the air as I huff and puff my way up the steep steps. The rain is a blessing, making the climb easier for us and the children as we rose above the tree line at the top. The stones are massive and many of them are in their original cement here. It's amazing what a wall can sustain while so much of the world crumbles around us day by day.

We met at the top and trooped along the pathway, snapping photos and inspecting the ancient cannons and towers in between. A swarm of wasps discovered us and buzzed around furiously, biting any flesh they could get to. Assuming we were barbarians, they maintain an order of defense where the soldiers of ancient dynasties had left off. Clearly, we had overstayed our welcome.

Though remotely tucked away in the mountains, the Wall will never be a quiet place to reflect, since it was designed with invastion, attack and defense in mind. I see it will remain this way when an army of vendors harangue us and other tourists at the bottom with t-shirts, postcards, and souvenirs. Yet I have also been inspired by this beacon of strength and I remain empty-handed on the way down. Every quai I spend in this country helps, I know, but I don't want to cheapen the Wall's fortitude with flimsy trinkets.

We ended the day by treating ourselves out for hot pot, now adding baby and husband to make us a small fleet. We crowded around the heated bowl in the center of the table, fishing the scraps of meat and veggies out of the bubbling broth with our chopsticks. I love the ritualistic sharing so ingrained with Chinese meals.

We inevitably shared "la duzi," or spicy stomach, afterwards. I tried to keep my dignity, but probably had it the worst of all. Perhaps I shouldn't have cooked all my food in the spicy side, or waited a few days before hitting the street food, and maybe should have held off brushing my teeth with the tap water.

As a traveler, it was par for the course- but also a less gentle reminder for me to pace myself.

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