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The Nada Chronicles, part 23

Running Fox Home



By Hans Brockhuis

It is Monday evening April 7th 2003 in the Dutch Reformed Church at Zwaag where my daughter Irene and I attend a Lightworkers gathering led by Ellen Sombroek. Nienke Riemersma guides us into a very profound meditation, through which the energy of the Creator can be heard loud and clear.

Irene and I sit side by side, both of us having experienced this evening intensively. Afterwards Irene tells me that during the gathering she felt a protective hand placed upon her shoulder for a long time. She experienced this as being very rewarding. I did not have this experience, although in general I had the feeling that apart from the physical attendees, many from the other side of the veils were present. Such is, as I have found, customary at these gatherings, as well as at ‘regular’ church services.

After the gathering a lady who had been sitting on the other side of the circle during the evening came to us. She had attracted my attention because she was often staring intensely at us. She explained she possesses clairvoyant gifts, and that during the evening she had perceived a male figure standing behind Irene and me.
He had put his protective hands upon our shoulders to give us the feeling: “all is well.” And indeed, all is very well this night.

She described the figure as being a very wide human being with a Mongol appearance and an incredibly large head. His appearance was not only broad shouldered, but his whole body was proportionally wide. The image I got was of a man with a large bold head and a small wisp of black hair approximately in the middle. Irene and I were not able to place this information, but it is very clear that all this feels very ‘good.’

Later on the way home, we tried to interpret this far-fetched encounter. Some time ago I had remembered an incarnation I experienced, about 800 years ago, in the town of Wei-Tschou, then an important city in the frontier area between the then China and the ‘barbarous’ country on the north side of the Chinese wall. Nowadays Wei-Tschou is an unimportant provincial town, called Wei Xian, in the province of Hebei with its capital Shijiazuang. The town is situated about 160 miles Southwest of Beijing. During those times China reached a cultural highlight in its early history, with the poet Wang Wei as an important exponent.

As it may be, Irene and I do some brainstorming and we realize we had been twin sisters during that time, and were raised in a kind of home for the children, meant for bastards and outcasts of the local Mandarin. We were illegitimate children of this important man and thus were hidden in a large plain square building, not to be seen from the outer world. The building is made of high almost windowless walls with a pagoda-like roof and a bare courtyard. Together with other children, orphans, mutilates and others who need to be set aside from the common people, we are not allowed to leave the building and spend our days in solitude.

Food is appalling and all the children are regularly beaten up and humiliated by the Chinese caretakers – all men. The only exception to this is a certain Wang-Li, a barbarian as named by the other guardians, who with his grotesque looks apparently is sympathetic towards the fate of my sister and I. He tries to protect us and to help wherever it is possible.

Because it is clear that the situation, for himself as well as us is unbearable, he makes up a plan to escape. That this will prove to be an utterly dangerous undertaking, however, is obvious from the beginning.

On a certain day he manages to smuggle us out of the building in the middle of the night. After much fear, danger and hardship we end up at a farmer’s family known to him, somewhere in the province. The farmer and his wife, who sense cheap labour power in store for them, receive us ‘lovingly’ and consider us as their own kin since they cannot have children for themselves,

Because of his disproportionate appearance, Wang-Li has to stay inside the house during the day to prevent discovery. It would become much too dangerous if his presence became known in the little village. Although the farm is situated far-off, it would be too risky for him if he was recognized. If that happened, his fate was certain: he would, after prolonged torture, die a certain death.

During the day Wang-Li does his utmost to teach us. He had never attended school, but because of his exceptional intelligence, he educated himself in a great number of subjects. What he knows he teaches us, including the naming of the important characters for which the Chinese language is very rich.

When we grow a little older, we are expected to help out on the farm, and yet continue to be taught by Wang-Li as much as we want. His name can mean packhorse or pack-donkey and is his nickname; he has never told us his real Mongolian name. This dear and friendly soul, notwithstanding his appearance that repulses many, has been able to develop himself and is for us children a sensitive, sympathizing and passionate friend who, with his powerful erudition, transfers his knowledge to all who want to listen.

In the meantime, it is clear that the Mandarin does not sit still. Angered by the enormous brutality of Wang-Li, who used to be his serf after all, breaking away with two children who are considered part of his household - his offspring - he sends out great numbers of soldiers into the city and countryside to locate and imprison Wang-Li and us and to teach us a lesson.

It is inevitable that our village is not forgotten and, aided by local stool pigeons, the men rumble with bare swords into the farm where we live. The farmer and his wife are killed immediately, but for Wang-Li it is a different story. Because of his stocky figure and his huge muscular strength, the slight soldiers are no match at all, and soon they bite the dust. Again it is necessary for Wang-Li and us to run away, for this news is soon bound to reach the Mandarin in Wei-Tschou.

Then the hardships really begin. The landscape of Hebei is barren and flat with few hiding places. Moreover, the land is severed by many rivers that we have to cross by wading or swimming. We travel at night under the stars and hide from view during the day. Beyond Xing Taj the hills begin, and beyond that the mountains, where there will be more opportunities for refuge.

After travelling due west for weeks, and then bearing off to the Northwest, Wang-Li tries to get us to his homeland. Unfortunately that will be beyond the great wall. The big problem is that although at long last we have ended up out of the reach of the angry Mandarin, we still must get over the wall unseen despite the many soldiers, sentries and during these disturbing times, large garrisons.

Hand-in-hand with Wang-Li in the middle, my sister and I walk in the direction of the great wall. The landscape is becoming more rough and fierce and because less and less vegetation exists, it is getting harder to find cover all the time.

One night when we have found shelter in a shallow cave, Wang-Li tells us that it will only be possible to cross the great wall during the daytime. All gates, which are placed about 2 ½ miles from each other, will be hermetically locked up from sunset to sunrise. During the day each gate is guarded heavily by armed troops of the particular Mandarin under whose charge the said unit comes under. Even at night each part of the unclimbable wall is constantly guarded. Our courage is fading. How will it ever be possible to cross the wall and taste the freedom that we have so longed for?

However, we place infinite trust in the good-natured giant, who explains in his unparalleled optimistic way that when the Higher Powers want it, there would be a way.

Notwithstanding, the next morning we all feel forsaken in this desolate land. A cold North-western wind is blowing and although the sun shines intensely without a cloud to be seen, we shiver as we come upon our first sight of our goal. At the top of a hill we see a glistening mountain lake encircled with high fringes of reeds, and there reflected in the lake is the great wall.

In the distance we detect a gate building with many guards. On the wall itself we can see many sentries with bows and arrows and lances walking to and fro. It is clear they are determined not to grant right-of-way from either side of the wall.

We are out of ideas, and even Wang-Li strokes his goatee thoughtfully. Apparently there is no way out. "Come," he says, "we have to go on," and so carefully we walk past and through the large reeds and alongside the small lake in order not to be seen.

Suddenly it becomes a little darker. This is strange because the sky is still cloudless! We think we have imagined it. After a little while, though, it becomes very clear that something strange is happening. It gets darker and the temperature is dropping significantly. The birds, which until now have been advertising their presence noisily, become silent. When we happen to glimpse a reflection of the sun in the pond, we can see that a large dark sliver, as it were a big bite, has been taken away from the sun!

"Eclipse," Wang-Li mutters. "This is our chance. When we are lucky and the eclipse becomes total, it will be pitch dark and the guards are bound to put their attention upwards instead of to the gate."

We feel a glimmer of hope, and when we are close to the gate building, we can see the sentries squeezed together staring through their fingers up at the sun. It is almost dark now and the gate is wide open!

At the precise moment the sun is totally darkened, we sneak past the sentries and through the gate. Now we are in the homeland of the man who often in China was called the great barbarian, but who in truth was a highly distinguished man.

It is clear that Wang-Li knows his way here and while the sun gains back its common face, Wang-Li guides us children into freedom and a new life.