On Oct 1, China's National Day, I was lucky enough to witness the military parade in Beijing.

Before that, I hadn't left the police station at my former post－Suanjingzi in Ejine Banner－for three months, so even arriving in the county's administrative center was like being in a big city.

From dirt tracks to asphalt roads, from the Gobi Desert to Ejine Banner, from a car to a train, I traveled more than 4,000 kilometers and finally reached Beijing at midnight on Sept 30.

I had never stayed in a big hotel before, so I did not know that guests could get their clothes dry-cleaned. Guided by an employee, I scanned a QR code for the first time so I could iron my uniform.

The night before the parade, I was so excited that I barely slept, and so I got up at 4 am.

I can't begin to describe how I felt when I finally took my place in the audience for the big parade.

Watching the formations march past, I dreamed that someday I would be involved in the parade. Before a recent change, we border police were part of the People's Armed Police, so it felt odd when I saw them march past wearing the old familiar uniform.

I was really impressed that the older generals leading every group had trained as hard as the other soldiers. We younger officers really have no excuse to slack off, as we should have more energy.

I spoke with spectators from all walks of life, including students, teachers, doctors and couriers, from across the country.

We are all regular people doing normal jobs. That proves that as long as we dedicate ourselves to our work, we can qualify to attend, and take part in, grand ceremonies.

I came from the far west of the Inner Mongolia autonomous region, and it was my second time in Beijing, the nation's political and cultural center.

Sadly, I had the feeling of lagging behind people of my own age. Though I earn more than 10,000 yuan ($1,415) a month, possibly higher than average among my age group, I have little life experience beyond my work.

When the people shared their travel anecdotes, I felt excluded from the outside world.

Sometimes, the idea of quitting comes into my mind; to just take off the uniform and go away.

What stops me is the bond with the local people and the uncertainty of finding a better job elsewhere.

I appreciated the opportunity to witness a great moment for the country as a representative of my former police station.

I was so lucky to watch the national flag being raised over Tian'anmen Square on Oct 2, although it was much more crowded than the ceremony on Mount Dahong in the desert.

Some people said that the longer they stayed in Suanjingzi, the more they understood the spirit of the place. I don't agree entirely. For me, the spirit of Suanjingzi revolved around officers working and living together, and integrating their simple daily lives with those of the local people.

Altantsooj spoke with Zhao Yimeng.