Glimpses of the Wall can already be seen as the tour van makes its way up the mountain outside Beijing. The haze here is as thick as Oliver Twist’s porridge and just as putrid. Rampant industrialization has wrought eye stinging pollution yet modern conveniences remain a luxury for a select few. The air hinted at the scent of urine. It hackles the nostrils. This is commonplace. It is a small annoyance. Buses overflowing with Chinese tourists clog the highway and progress is slow. The chill in the air is piercing at these altitudes. Everyone is wrapped in their warmest coats, but the cloth is ill suited to the climate, allowing the dampness to permeate. The streets are full of souvenir stands with postcards and replicas of the Wall along with all the usual fabrics and teas. Chinese vendors follow people along, trying to sell hats, scarves and trinkets. A few words of English are barked over and over, desperate to separate the foreigners from their money. There is a fee that must be paid to walk along the Great Wall of China. The fee paid, it is time to experience the Wall. People crowd the landing below it. Weather beaten steps, over a dozen in number lead to the top. The Wall is not a monolithic structure; many parts have crumbled or have been vandalized over the years. There is a choice to be made. To the left is a short walk, its end in sight. To the right, where the Wall rises up into the mist, it may be followed until this section ends. Everyone chooses right. The width at the top of the Wall is surprising. At least three horsemen could ride along it side by side. Both sides of the Wall have additional fortification. At various intervals, there are lookout points edged out of the stone, allowing soldiers to combat their enemy from a protected position. The Wall follows the slope of the land. The Chinese engineers did not grade the building site so that there are many steps along the way. Handrails glistening with dew provide welcome assistance. As the climb becomes more arduous, the smell of humans, unmasked by deodorant, floats in the fog, mixing with the invisible scent of the thousands who labored to build the wall. The stories are well known. The Great Wall of China bears witness to the peasants’ sacrifices. No one was missed as they fell. Work on the Wall continued, undeterred by workers’ deaths, their bodies encased in the stone and mortar of the wall, their ranks refilled from neighboring villages. Their tormented whispers along with their tortured bodies are buried in the massive stone edifice. The climb to the top continues. Many people become winded. The oldest among them must stop to rest before continuing the ascent. No one waits, they move on. The crowd moves as one, drawn inexorably to the top. No one considers turning back though the climb is longer and steeper than was conveyed in the literature. There are so many Chinese people, all clothed in heavy grey. They are colorless, a part of the landscape, a part of the wall. Their black, heavily used shoes take yet another step toward the peak. The shoes’ markings betray their status as their owner’s sole pair. The heels are worn at the edges and the laces are frayed. The passageway narrows at the parapet, people merging as if on the highway to get through the confined spaces of the fortress. Grayness encases the scene at every level. From the smooth stones comprising the walkway, the walls rising up to shelter long ago soldiers from enemy attack, the coats worn by the endless crowds of Chinese to the thick mist shrouding the horizon, there is only grey. No allowance is made for an individual’s color. No departure is made from the shades of gray to the stark reality of a black and white world. Like the Wall itself, it is gray that dominates this land and its people. Reaching the peak, the Chinese people are laughing, happy with their efforts. They stand in groups, smiling and taking pictures. Years of ancestral labor is a source of pride and nationalism for them and now standing above it, their collective spirit resonates. Their link to the past is palpable. A camera flashes, capturing a glimpse of a young Chinese woman’s red scarf. The dull endless stones are cast anew. The Wall holds up its people on this place atop a mountain. It is their monument to their great nation and there is great satisfaction in completing the climb. Content, they now descend, return to their everyday lives.