Bald in Beijing (Part IV)

不到长城非好汉

I was up before my alarm and first down for breakfast. The hostel’s restaurant hosted high-seated chairs and tables; an out of place country set list played softly in the background. Perhaps the quality of being ill-suited to the location served as an even greater reminder of home. Just one important stop left, then I could sleep every day until my flight if I wanted to. I sat closest to the TV and watched a soccer match, though I noticed they didn’t showcase the score.

Breakfast was included in my tour package to the Great Wall. Otherwise, I’d have probably stuck to the established routine of sleeping in till noon and grabbing something to eat from a 7/11. I noticed that one of my roommates (diagonal-opposite) also came down for breakfast. We started talking in the front hall, waiting to be called for the tour bus.

I never did pick up on pinyin and instead, developed my own writing system to learn Cantonese words. It’s not exactly correct, but fitting with my preference for semi-anonymity, I’ll write his name as Boy’ao. Boy’ao was a med student from Taiwan and this was his first visit to Beijing as well.

We spent the bus ride listening to each other’s life story and agreed to stick together on the Great Wall. Besides a slight hiccup (I somehow found myself in a Spanish tour group), we kept with our plan.

While this should logically be the longest part of my story, I believe there’s just no way to recreate the three hours of breathless awe. It wasn’t even necessarily the Wall itself, but the surrounding mountains which put everything into perspective. Or perhaps breathlessness was a side-effect of climbing the countless steps. I swear, at one point I was even passed by a toddler in a diaper.

I was in no rush to reach as many towers as possible. The mere fact that I was on the Wall was its own reward. What I did keep an eye out for was a good spot to take my Buddhist monk fantasy picture which, until this moment, only existed in my mind. I was fortunate to have Boy’ao there with me to capture the scene. Hopefully my pictures fill in the holes of my description.

When our time was up, we took individual toboggans (on rails) down the hill and back to the parking lot. Lunch was paid for, but drinks weren’t. After months of getting complimentary hot water or tea with meals, I found that to be out of place. Besides an English couple and a woman (presumably) from Hong Kong and her son, everyone else at our table was German, and there wasn’t much conversation.

Back in our room, Boy’ao and I decided to find a place for dinner that served Peking duck. On the recommendation of hostel staff, we found one that was reasonable.

It seems that we arrived too early; the elevator door opened to show the backs of all the restaurant staff. They were conducting a pre-opening meeting. Without hesitation, a server brought us to a table and handed us a menu to look over as they finished up. Boy’ao explained each exercise. I gave my attention when one worker began to sing a song as part of “confidence building.” I kept thinking about how much the company valued giving proper training. Me, Boy’ao, and the rest of the staff clapped as the man finished his song – an unexpected dinner and show.

  

*Photos 1,2,9 courtesy of "Boy'ao"