A Nepali Student's First Morning in Beijing: Navigating Tiananmen Square in Extreme Cold

It would be appropriate to say that my journey to China began with studies. While being a resident of a region bordering India, I admit that I have only dared to visit Delhi once so far, and I want to return directly to the main subject.

It was early in the morning—5 AM Beijing time. The late autumn season was at its peak outside. I probably hadn't anticipated the bone-chilling cold as the freshly fallen snow began to melt. Mentally, I was eager to see the splendor of China and the 'Tiananmen Square,' considered the center of world politics. My curiosity had been further piqued after reading the rebellious saga of Major General Xu Qinx, linked to the history of this place. Xu Qinx was the military commander who was dismissed and imprisoned after calling the order to fire on his own people during the 1989 mass movement 'inappropriate.'

In Beijing, a hotel seems to be just a place to sleep and perform morning rituals. For food, one either has to settle for breakfast at an expensive price or rely on the cyber world. Chinese mobile applications are so effective that delivery boys keep rushing to the room door after an order is placed. We were staying on the sixth floor of the ninth-floor hotel at the 'Beijing Language and Culture University.' The main reason for choosing the university's hotel was the high cost elsewhere.

In that biting cold, we booked a taxi via the 'Didi App' and reached the gate. The 10-minute walk from the hotel to the university's main gate felt very arduous and rushed due to the cold. As soon as we sat in the taxi, the driver blurted out, "Wai guo ren (Foreigner)?" When we replied in Chinese, "Shi de" (Yes), he was taken aback. He asked surprisingly, "Where are you going so early? It's very cold outside."

I only realized later that the morning program at Tiananmen Square is linked to the time of sunrise. The online permit mentioned that entry started from 4:30 AM. There was a rule that only a fixed number of observers would be allowed to watch the flag-hoisting military exhibition. Even after paying nearly one thousand Nepali Rupees, due to security rules, the taxi dropped us one kilometer away from the entrance gate at a red light.

Early morning Beijing was quiet. On the sparsely moving roads, we were trying to cross the street in the Nepali style, disregarding the traffic lights. A policeman approached us, muttering something. We immediately said in Chinese, "We are foreigners." Upon realizing we were foreigners, he smiled and stopped. Perhaps the cold also made him too lazy to approach us for further questioning.

When we reached the Tiananmen Square area, it felt as if there was a serious security threat there. There was a tight security cordon at every corner. Seeing the long, winding queue of Chinese citizens, we became a bit anxious. But as soon as we reached the first security gate, a young security guard checked our passports and asked, "Na guo ren?" (Which country?). When we said, "Ni bo'er" (Nepal), he smiled and directed us towards another gate in a 'VIP' style, bypassing the long queue.

There was a strange gender discrimination in the security check there. Female security personnel would pat us down from head to thighs, while male security personnel checked shoes and feet. In our culture, touching the feet is considered a sign of respect or subservience, but there it was a mandatory security procedure. During the check, a female security guard held my friend's backside a bit tightly, which made us smile subtly, while she turned red with embarrassment.

Finally, we were in the vast square of Tiananmen Square. To the left was Mao's mausoleum, to the right the museum, and ahead, the massive gate of the 'Forbidden City'! Mao's huge picture was displayed on that gate, which is reportedly changed every year on October 1st.

The cold was making our body parts stiff one by one. My body, raised in the hot air of the Terai, was experiencing the icy cold of melting snow for the first time. At that moment, an elderly man from Shaanxi province, with his grandson sitting on his shoulder, said, "Is this the big square? This is smaller than our village square!" We laughed, understanding what he said. Perhaps the squares of the new modern Chinese cities are built to be even larger than this historic square, which made Tiananmen feel small to him.

When the toes of my feet started going numb as the cold pierced through my shoes, my friend came up with the idea of going into the Subway tunnel for warmth. When we got there, there was an unbearable crowd of Chinese people who had come to escape the cold. A young woman was sitting there, blue from the cold.

After some time, needing to use the restroom, we looked for a toilet using 'Baidu Map.' When we reached the toilet gate, we were astonished! It was hard to believe that the place, adorned with tea stalls, hot milk, and gift shops right at the entrance, was a public toilet. Inside, people were drinking tea, using their mobile phones, and chatting in an island-like area. This might be normal for the Chinese, accustomed to communal bathing facilities, but it was a strange sight for us. The cleanliness was so impeccable that there was no trace of odor. We took hot milk and tea from there, and on our way back, we informed the cold-stricken young woman about the warmth and tea in the restroom. She thanked us and hurried towards the toilet.

After some time, the military parade for the flag-hoisting began. The crowd was so dense that watching it directly was impossible. In the end, we settled for watching it live on the mobile screen of a woman standing in front of us.

After that, our journey turned towards viewing Mao's preserved body. We needed to verify what some communist leaders from Nepal had told us: 'Looking at Mao's face, it seems like he could get up and talk right now.' Chinese people were buying bunches of yellow flowers before entering. Yellow flowers are associated with death in Chinese culture, but I couldn't help smiling to myself remembering how Chinese guests were welcomed with the same yellow garlands in Nepal.

There was an arrangement to view Mao's body by walking past it from both sides. No matter how sharply I looked, I could only see one side of his face.

After viewing Mao's preserved body, we headed towards the Great Wall via the Subway, with empty stomachs. Our junior, Badal, who studies at Beijing Normal University, was waiting for us with bread and hot coffee in hand. With that sip of hot coffee, the biting cold of that Beijing morning and the grandeur of the public restroom were permanently captured in my memory.

(Rijal is studying in China)