Trafalgar Square will be the place to be in London eight hours from now; five hours after that the party in Time
Square will be getting close to fever pitch. Great cities tend to have great public spaces from where to
celebrate New Year. It’s not unreasonable to think that Tiananmen Square, perhaps the biggest public
space in the world and arguably the most well-known, would hold a New Year’s party commensurate with its stature.
I knew that wouldn't be the case of course, but nevertheless I felt compelled to be “there” at the
momentous moment when the clock ticked over to 2008, “China’s year” – the year when China will really
show the world what it can do; when it will throw open its door to reveal its incredible recent achievements to an awestruck
world. Hundreds of thousands will come here to see the Olympic Games – China’s so-called “coming
out” party – at first hand; while billions will watch their TV sets in open-mouthed disbelief. No
pressure, then, to make sure the party goes well.
Jianguomen – the improbably-wide avenue that runs east of Tiananmen was strangely quiet. The
large pavements to the north were even quieter. Of the few people braving the dangerously-cold night, most
were walking away from Tiananmen, towards me. One of the people stood out somewhat because he was wearing
a KFC plastic bag on his head, but otherwise seemed to be dressed normally. The Beijing-cold really does
do strange things to people. I reached the underpass that connects the north side of Jianguomen with the
subway that leads to the square and descended – grateful to be out of the wind. At 15 minutes to
2008, I was the only person heading to the square it seemed. The soldier at the start of the tunnel that
leads to the square itself was standing behind a rope.
“It’s closed,” he said.
“What’s closed?”
“Tiananmen
Square is closed.”
The
soldiers that guard the area are not the most talkative people and so I didn’t ask “why?”.
“When will it re-open?”
“At 6am tomorrow morning.”
I walked quickly to the Gate of Heavenly Peace – and looked
at the square with my binoculars. The soldier had been spot-on. Tiananmen Square, the
public space that has held more than a hundred thousand people on many occasions was deserted except for a solitary soldier,
standing bolt upright somewhere near the centre of the Square, facing into the bitingly cold north wind.
At least there were people there – perhaps 150 of them;
mostly young, and more than 95 per cent Chinese.
It was now ten minutes to midnight.
Three friends near to me were talking animatedly, clearly excited at the prospect of seeing in the New Year.
Ori, a local Beijinger, is studying law here; Walt and Aaron, from
Shandong and Gansu provinces, are studying Arabic at Beijing Foreign Language University.
“It’s going to be a great year for us, and a great
year for China,” said Walt. “It’s so exciting! We’ve got the Olympics
to look forward to. That’s so cool! ...We all want to be volunteers, but can’t
because we are first year students. That’s such a shame. Only older students can
apply to be volunteers.”
Walt
cheered up when I told him that there was nothing to stop him and his friends putting on Olympic T-shirts and going to help
lost-looking foreigners navigate around one of the biggest cities on the planet.
“That’s such a good idea,” he said.
“Hey, what time is it? I thought there would be fireworks here,” said Walt, “…After
all this is Tiananmen Square, the very centre of Beijing.”
I looked at my watch.
“Two minutes
and twenty seconds to go,” I informed him.
“No fireworks,” he said resignedly.
Walt and his friends really couldn’t work out why the central place, in the political centre of China, the “central
country” (the literal meaning of Zhongguo), on the eve of the year when it would be centre stage, couldn’t
have made more of an effort.
A small group of young people twenty yards from where we were standing became more animated. I looked
at my watch (clearly their watch was fast). A few seconds later, another group increased their volume.
And then another; and another group…
Still thirty seconds to go.
The
problem with celebrating the New Year at Tiananmen is that there is no public clock to tell you when the “moment”
has arrived.
My watch was 90
seconds fast, but at least I knew that.
I counted down the seconds. “…Three, TWO, ONE!”
“A very Happy New Year to you and to China,” I said,
shaking the three friends’ hands.
“I’ve
got a beer; we can share it,” said Aaron, taking out a bottle of Tiger beer from his bag. No one
had an opener though, and I eventually persuaded a very determined Aaron that it wasn’t a good idea to try to start
the New Year by opening the bottle with his teeth. Aaron’s Arabic name is Farook and I mused that
a Chinese with the alternative name of Aaron – who, as you will recall from RE lessons, was Abraham’s son –
would make the perfect Middle East peace envoy.
Walt, whose Arabic name is Abraheem, is from Jinan
in Shandong province – the hometown of the “Gao brothers”, whose art is apparently causing such a stir all
over China. Walt talked excitedly about his plans for the future. He hoped to
go to an American university, after graduating in Beijing, to study an MBA: “Somewhere beginning with ‘H’
or ‘Y’,” he confided. But, “of course” he would return to China after completing
his post-graduate studies. In the meantime, he told me, “It would be great to use my Arabic to help
others,” and was looking forward to perhaps travelling to Darfur in Sudan, to work with China-sponsored charities helping
Aids sufferers.
As for the “famous” Gao brothers from his hometown. No, he had never heard of them.
We exchanged contact details and promised to keep in touch.
I really want to follow these three friend’s progress.
I spoke to several other people about their views of 2008 and the future. Everyone was gushingly
optimistic. I know that the sample is hopelessly skewed – the small number of people who decided
to be there despite the atrocious weather can’t possibly be representative of the entire China cohort’s opinions.
Or could they? Thus far on my travels I have heard very little to make me think that the vast majority
of young people, even those that are not “gushingly optimistic” are nothing less than fully determined to make
the most of their futures.
As another
group of three friends from Henan province told me:
“This is our future, we have to make the most of it.” Those three had travelled up
to Beijing from Tianjin, where they are at university, just to be at Tiananmen on the occasion of the New Year.
They would take the train back “tomorrow,” because they’ve got exams to prepare for.
“It’s just wonderful to be here,” they said.
“We simply had to be at this special place for this special moment”.
