Walking the Wall

Mr and Mrs Hou

We were spent when we arrived at the village of Tiancheng after our desert crossing. We found the nearest store, bought some soft drinks and water, and plopped down under the store’s awning to recover. As usual, a crowd gathered round and peppered us with questions.

That afternoon, though, we were having a tough time coping. We always find it harder to understand and speak Chinese when we’re tired, but usually after a few minutes and some sugar, we can find the words. That day we just weren’t communicating.

One older man figured out that in our condition, we were better able to read than hear. He wrote down a few messages, worked out that we wanted a bus to the nearest large town for a rest day, and told us the next bus wasn’t until 7:30 the following morning.

Then he wrote us this message:

Qing dao wo jia qu xiuxi, xi jiao, chi fan, fei chang an quan.
(Please come to my house to rest, wash your feet, and eat. It’s very safe.)

It was such a kind gesture we almost cried (well, Emma almost did). His name was Hou Ji Zhou and he was a distinguished, white-haired gentleman in his mid-60s. He took us to his courtyard house, gave us a tub of warm water and soap and told us to wash.

He and his wife prepared us an enormous meal of rice, tomatoes, eggs, pork, biscuits, dates, apricots and prunes. It was the best meal we’d had in days. The shopkeeper popped in to check on us, and shortly after Mr Hou’s son and daughter-in-law came home from work. It seemed a bit of a special occasion, so Mr Hou opened up a new bottle of jujube wine and made us try some. Most Chinese wines are best avoided, but this one was quite good.

We stayed the night in their second son’s room and the following morning were served a breakfast just as large as dinner. Just before 7:30, they walked us to the bus down the road and waved us off.

After our rest day we caught a taxi back to Tiancheng to continue walking. We stopped by Mr Hou’s house and gave him a gift-wrapped bottle of wine. It brought a huge smile to his face, so we must have picked well. He raced into the kitchen and brought out more food, then led us out of the village as the other townsfolk waved us goodbye.

Mr Hou took us to the corner of Tiancheng’s ancient city wall, adjacent to the Great Wall and just a five-minute walk from his home. He showed us a stone plaque - on one side were stylized Chinese characters referring to the location of the old city wall, and on the other were modern characters referring to the fengsui, or beacon tower, next to the city. It was only when we were ready to leave that he told us he had carved the plaque himself for the city in September 1999.

Mr Hou and his plaque

The reverse side says Tiancheng beacon tower