August 3, 2014

I have looked at my pictures from my recent travels almost every day since I have been back in the States and I still cannot believe that I actually went to the Great Wall of China. I can’t exactly pinpoint a defining moment when or why it became a dream of mine to one day see the Great Wall, but it’s a sight that I merely dreamed of seeing ever since I was young. Maybe it was the many Pearl S. Buck and Ha Jin novels I read or because I was culture-deprived having grown up in New Jersey and was fascinated that something so magnificent existed on the other side of the world. I do not know how this dream manifested itself, but somehow it did and it has been there for as long as I can remember.

To me, there are no words that do the Great Wall justice (maybe because I’m more visual and sentimental than articulate). Rather, it’s more a feeling of being emotionally moved by its absolute magnificence and utterly surreal beauty. It’s about being in the presence of this vast manmade structure that rolls over mountain after mountain for as far as the eye can see or the mind can imagine.  It’s about the feeling that this dream-come-reality is so breathtaking, that it still feels like a dream…

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