by Ray Jason
When the bus unloaded us at the
Great Wall of China, our tour guide and her flock headed off in one direction,
while I snuck off on my own. Such
behavior was symbolic of my life in general.
To escape the herd and transcend the humdrum has been a constant theme on
my meandering Path. That contrary to
ordinary behavior rewarded me splendidly on that day, and it has continued to
do so down the decades.
We had been instructed to “stay with
our guide” who would mother hen us along the acceptable route over the rebuilt
part of the wall. But that beautifully
restored section held little allure for me.
What sang to my wandering heart was the massive serpentine rubble that
undulated across the hilltops and off into the misty distance.
*******
I was now sitting on the edge of that tumbled stone
dragon trying to work up the courage to scamper across the rocks. Suddenly, I felt a light tapping on my
shoulder. I was slow to acknowledge it,
fearing that it was some security guard insisting that I “return to my group!” So, I was shocked to instead discover a small,
middle-aged Chinese man. We both said
hello using that most universal of all languages – we smiled. Then, moving his
fingers along his forearm, he made a walking gesture and pointed to the toppled
stones and boulders below us. I
vigorously shook my head “YES,” and off we went.
Although I was considerably younger
than him, he was considerably “goat-ier” than me. He leapt and bounded across that very
challenging debris trail effortlessly, while I cautiously followed behind him. About 30 minutes later we reached what
appeared to be the ruins of a tower, since it was taller than the nearby
rubble. I assumed that it had served as a
sentry post and barracks for the guards.
He pulled a small canteen from his
pack and shared his water with me. Then
we had one of those magical conversations that don’t require words. He lifted the hand with his wedding band, and
then pointed towards my empty ring finger.
I nodded, indicating that I was not married. We both feigned sadness and then we both
started laughing with gusto. It was our
way of acknowledging that the rigors of marriage defy all borders. He pantomimed that he had two children and
when I inquired as to their sex, he demonstrated with crude but effective sign
language. We were now laughing like two
bamboo cutters who had found a jug of plum wine.
Our speechless dialogue became even more comedic as I
attempted to explain that I made my living as a juggler. As I vigorously waved my arms in the air he
may very well have thought that I was a sorcerer or a dragon slayer or an air
traffic controller. Unfortunately, there
were no rocks nearby that were small enough to toss around. Eventually I remembered that I had actually
brought some balls with me in my little daypack so that I could juggle on the
Great Wall of China. So I showed him a
few tricks. Although he seemed impressed,
I suspect that he might have been disappointed that I was not a sorcerer.
We then sat silently and gazed upon this colossal
monument to humanity’s power and folly, as it snaked across the
countryside. What intrigues me most
about ruins is how paradoxical they are.
On the one hand they are tributes to “that which endures” yet they are
also reminders of “that which has vanished."
After we returned to the “manicured” ruins, I found
our guide who apparently had not even noticed my absence. She graciously took a photo of me with my
renegade climbing partner. Then she translated
both of our mailing addresses, so that I could send him a copy of the
photo. Later in Hong Kong I had it
developed and mailed it to him. When I
returned to San Francisco six months later, there was a heartfelt thank you
letter from him awaiting me. He had even
found someone in his town to translate his Mandarin Chinese into English.
*******
This wonderful episode was one of the highlights of a
long journey which was undeniably one of the highlights of my Life thus far. During that 1979-80 adventure, I attempted to
“juggle my way around the world.” My quest was to see if I could finance the trip
by performing my little act and passing my hat afterwards. Amazingly, I succeeded, and returned home
with $400 more than when I had left. Like
most travelers, I wanted to visit exotic places and meet intriguing
people. But for me there was also a
secondary, but very important motive.
When I was in college I used to vehemently argue with
my professors about the root cause of the agony and violence and injustice in
the world. My contention was that
everyday people could get along just fine with each other and that the
widespread trauma was caused by so-called “leaders.” These political, religious and corporate
rulers constantly sow animosity and fear amongst their people. They use the “Us against Them” tactic to
demonize others - thus turning One Human Family into bands of mortal enemies.
They do this because shock and destabilization allow
them to both expand and consolidate their wealth and power. For example, just a few hours of internet
research will reveal to you how many U.S. bankers and industrialists assisted
Hitler in his meteoric rise to power.
These Malignant Overlords - as I accurately describe them - made
enormous amounts of money setting up the
war, then building and financing weapons during the war and then rebuilding the saturation-bombed continent after the war.
To learn more about how tyrants - disguised as leaders
- actually control the world, read Carroll Quigley’s books about Cecil Rhodes
and his secret Roundtable. These behind-the-curtain
power junkies have been working to insure Anglo-American global dominance for
over 100 years. Or investigate Anthony
Sutton’s work on the dark and horrific dealings of U.S. intelligence
services. Or stroll down the evil brick
road of America’s hidden foreign policy since World War II as it clandestinely
overthrew governments and assassinated leaders.
William Blum’s books document this grotesque conduct in encyclopedic
detail. And for a general overview of
the devastation that Empire wreaks upon ordinary people, read Michael Parenti’s
sobering books.
Needless to say, none of my college professors
included authors like these in our political science curriculum. Instead our texts promoted the deliberate
deception that our leaders are the “best and the brightest.” But honest and objective research reveals that they are
actually the “most ruthless and pathological.” These Malignant Overlords thrive because they
are emotional mutants who lack the heart and soul genomes. This is why it is so difficult to convince
most people of how vile these rulers are.
Ordinary people do have consciences and ethics and compassion, so it is
hard for them to imagine people who lack basic empathy and decency.
*******
And so now, decades later with college far astern of
me, I was setting out to determine if my theory about the root causes of
political strife was correct. My little show
allowed me to interact with many more ordinary folks than the normal tourist
would ever meet. Juggling is a true
universal language.
Everywhere that I performed the people were warm and
welcoming. They did not care which
passport I carried or whether I worshipped their favorite god or whether I was
rich or poor. They were just delighted
to behold this stranger standing there amazing them with his cascading torches
and balls and knives. Street performing
is without a doubt one of the world’s authentic win-win relationships.
Now recall that this adventure took place in
1979-80. Those were very tense times between
the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. The State
Department tried to discourage me from peeking behind the Iron Curtain. As you can probably guess, this only
increased my desire to travel there. And
did I ever, including a full crossing of Eurasia on the Trans-Siberian Railway.
There was never an instant of anti-American hostility
directed towards me during the weeks that I was in Russia. I got to enjoy sensational cultural
magnificence in the land of Tolstoy and Tchaikovsky. The ballet companies, symphony orchestras and
circuses lived up to their world-renowned reputations.
Returning to my hotel after an extraordinary
performance by the Moscow Circus, I had a very illuminating revelation. I had long ago realized that international athletes
and performing artists almost always get along wonderfully with their foreign
counterparts. That’s
because they respect each others’ skill and artistry. They know in their core being what incredible
personal sacrifice and dedication it took to achieve that level of
mastery.
And so it finally dawned on me that this is one of the
reasons that “leaders” are so psychologically diseased that they enjoy lashing
out and harming people. On a profoundly deep
level they understand that they can’t actually do anything of genuine
merit. They can’t master a Rachmaninoff
piano concerto or lift a ballerina in the air or juggle 7 balls. In their rare moments of self-awareness, they
recognize that their only skills are deceit and domination and Machiavellian
back-stabbing. They offer no joyous
blessings to the world. Instead, they
deliver the vicious curses of oppression and violence.
*******
Upon my return to San Francisco after my
life-affirming around the world journey, I was delighted to find a large stack
of mail. I searched through the pile
hoping that there might be something from my Great Wall rubble rebel, and sure
enough there was. He had included some
small black and white mini-postcards from his hometown in China. He was proud of the lovely places depicted on
them - and justifiably so.
He had written me a little letter in Chinese that someone
had translated into English. It began
with the usual well-wishes that mark the Oriental respect for courtesy, and
then he said this:
“There is an old Chinese proverb that says a man
cannot be called a hero unless he has been to the Great Wall. We have not only been to the Wall, we climbed
the Sixth Signal Tower. We should be
prouder!”
“May the friendship between the Chinese people and the
American people last forever. I wish you
and your family good health and happiness.”
Your Chinese friend,
Chu Yong-Quen
*******
And now, 36 years later I can still see Chu scurrying
ahead of me to the distant signal tower.
Had we both been able to share a common language and send out a message
from that tower, it might have been something like this:
“Let all walls tumble into rubble, let all borders be flung open, let all humans reclaim their birthright as free and caring brothers and sisters. Let Joy and Peace triumph over Agony and War!”
*******
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This little vignette from the Great Wall of China is one tiny episode from a journey that was plush with adventure, romance and revelations. I kept a wonderful journal and took many amazing pictures. Friends have encouraged me to convert it into a very unusual travel book, but I have never done so. However, as the years thunder by I am now inclined to retell those tales. If anyone out there could assist me in such an effort, I would dearly appreciate it. Reaching me is easy through the email address here at my blog. I would reward your help as best I can.
