Journey to the East

Perhaps I spoke too soon about warm weather. Yesterday, temperatures in Ji’nan dropped suddenly and dramatically. And it snowed. So, now, not even a week after I boldly declared an end to winter, it’s winter again.  I suppose that March in Ji’nan will be no different from March in the Eastern US: In like a lion…

Unfortunately, this turn in the weather dampened one of the most interesting parts of Spring Festival: Lantern Festival, which marks the very last night of the holiday. True to its name, Lantern Festival features all kinds of illuminated display, the setting off of paper lanterns (you light them and the hot air propels them into the sky like otherworldly object, floating up towards some completely unknown end… I’ve seen lots of lanterns lit, but I’ve never seen one coming down from up high, so I can truly say that I have no idea where a lit lantern goes), and eating what I’ve just come to call Lantern Soup, known in Chinese as 汤圆, Tāngyuán, ( which is a dessert course consisting of small, sweet, round dumplings in a slightly sugary broth (kind of like gulab jamun, for those of your familiar with Indian food, but not as syrupy and  not fried).

Tāngyuán, a traditional Lantern Festival dessert (thanks to Google for the image).

Of course, yesterday’s weather conditions were not ideal for any of the traditional lantern festival celebrations: try setting off a lantern made of paper in a driving snow storm and heavy wind. The square was deserted, with would be revelers staying inside rather than trying to navigate the slippery, treacherous, tiled morass that QuanCheng Square becomes when a little moisture is added. Even the extravagant light displays at Baotu Springs (which are traditional for lantern festival and are kind of like those drive-through Winter-Wonderland/Christmas Light displays in the US) were closed down due to snow (a shame, because I’d really wanted to check them out… I’m hoping that maybe they’ll still be open for today).

This past weekend was also marked the end of the Fall Semester for Aston. Soon, I’ll have a new batch of classes with different students and different Chinese Teachers working alongside me. There will be new foreign teachers, too. Already many of the Aston employees who were only signed on to teach here for six months have moved out and headed for their various destinations away from Ji’nan. Simultaneously, new staff have started to arrive and so it feels as if we’re stuck in a very strange period of limbo in which we must all say goodbye to old friends while meeting lots of new people. In this sense it’s neither a beginning or an end. Rather, it’s both at once. I can only imagine what it must feel like to be a new arrival at this time, trying to meet everyone in a very new and different environment, only to realize that many of them are imminently leaving. A strange thought indeed.

The next couple of days will bring in lots of changes. I’ll have plenty to say about it, I’m sure. Also, be sure to check in, as I’ll FINALLY be putting up lots of photos from previous travels. Stay tuned…

The third part of my photo entry on Spring Festival in Ji’nan. These photos were taken on the first day of the lunar New Year. The celebration begins!

A New Year comes to Ji'nan: Festive pinwheels turn in the shadow of the Blue Thing.

The first day of the Year of the Tiger brought a lot of excitement to heart of Ji’nan. As people crammed into buses and packed the streets with bikes and converged on QuanCheng Square, in the very heart of town, I grabbed my camera and went out to join them. Everywhere throughout the city, there was a great deal of energy. Firecrackers were STILL set off to ring in the Year of the Tiger. Kite fliers and food vendors crowded around the Blue Thing, vending their wares. Performers took center stage in the middle of the square, treating the audience to singing, dancing, opera and other merriment. Forget about 2010, it’s the Year of the Tiger that was being greeted in on February 14. Here are the best of the day’s photos:

A balloon vendor in the streets near QuanCheng Square on the first day of the Year of the Tiger. (This photo reminds me of e.e. cummings' poem "In Just").

More balloons, including tiger-shaped ones especially for this year.

The Blue Thing was the staging ground for a huge festival celebration. You can see it here from afar.

Rows of vendors in QuanCheng Square. These stalls sold everything from food, to paper kites, to New Year's ornaments, to children's toys.

These delicious snacks are made of rice paper, stuffed with a rice and meat filling. They're not like anything that I've eaten before, so comparisons are not really adequate here. I'll just say this: the ones which have big pieces of roasted duck on the inside are incredible.

These long scrolls of calligraphy symbolize longevity and luck in the coming year. These particular scrolls stretched out to well over 20 feet.

Pinwheels: A popular New Year's souvenir.

The double fish is a symbol for Spring Festival that I've seen in a lot of places. They're intended to symbolize surplus and wealth.

A Lion Dance: A Northern Chinese Spring Festival tradition. The Lion Dance is actually very similar to its more famous Southern cousin, the Dragon Dance, which involves a LONG train of people making up the body of the dragon rather than two who make up the lion in the photos above. Like the Dragon Dance though, these events have become fixtures in Spring Festival celebrations. This one was put on, I think, to advertise for a store's Spring Festival sales.

The Lion Dance: Up close.

These guys are pounding some sort of rice paste together. I'm not really sure what it was being put into, but it looked like a pretty labor-intensive process.

More pinwheels. It seemed like everyone, especially kids, were buying these.

Candied fruits skewered on a stick, particularly hawthorne berries, are a winter treat in China called "糖葫芦“ or tánghúlu, literally meaning 'sugared gourd' because of their lumpy appearance. The ones which are made entirely of candied strawberries are especially good.

A red lantern serves as part of the New Year's decorations in QuanCheng Square.

These were an interesting sight: steamed sticky rice stuffed inside shells that looked like casings for ammunition.

A close up.

In a big display of New Year spirit, kites shaped like tigers went up all over the square by mid-afternoon.

Flower vendors on the sidewalks near QuanCheng Square.

More scenes of festivity from the square: Red lanterns were everywhere on the first day of Spring Festival.

Spring Festival is a time for celebration. The past two days have seen an abundance of joyous celebration throughout Ji’nan. Often this holiday spirit flows right out into the streets, and soars into the skies alongside the brilliant fireworks. It’s an exciting time to be out and about. Here’s a look at the countdown to the New Year from yesterday (today’s pictures will be a separate entry). Enjoy!

Daytime fireworks bring colorful smoke near Ji'nan's "Korea Town"

Preparing to set off Chinese firecrackers.

The sound and the fury of firecrackers on Spring Festival.

The photos below speak for themselves, I think. No need for captions here.

Snapshots from the big finale of the night, at the stroke of midnight:

We encountered lots of people out in the streets ringing in the Year of the Tiger. Nearly all of them were out lighting fireworks of their own. Everyone was incredibly warm and welcoming. When we told them that it was our first Spring Festival celebration, they seemed extra excited to share a little bit of the holiday with us. The people pictured below are a good example, striking up a conversation with us after I asked them to take a picture:

These people were kind enough to let me photograph them while they celebrated near downtown.

As the photo shows: Chinese sparklers have a little more output than their American cousins.

We could resist the idea of setting off our own fireworks, and celebrating in a hands on way. Here are the results:

Our small, but plenty powerful haul of fireworks.

Taking the proper safety precautions is necessary: Read the instructions... even when they're entirely in Chinese.

A fountain of light: our opening number.

The grand finale: A BIG box which let off 25 separate high flying fireworks that burst into flower and star patterns in the sky. Purchased for only about $3.00 (US).

Of course, there’s lots of Spring Festival revelry that takes place during the day. Today, I went out towards downtown, and took in that part of the celebration as well. Those pictures will come in a separate entry later. Tomorrow, I’m heading for a holiday trip to Beijing, and will return on Thursday, so maybe they’ll go up then. Until that time, stay tuned– there’s more to come! Happy New Year (and I suppose Happy Valentines Day, too!).

Like any good holiday, Spring Festival has its fair share of hype. This is a look at the decorations, and preparations that led up to the New Year’s festivities opening yesterday:

The character 福, or "fú" which means "good luck" or "fortune" is often hung on doors during New Year. It's often hung upside down because, 福倒了 "fú dǎo le" or "luck is upside down," sounds like 福到了，“fú dào le” or "luck has arrived." Everyone thoroughly confused? Good.

A New Year's sign at the entrance gate to my neighborhood.

Lanterns hung by the entrance gate to the neighborhood where I live. These are a common sight during Spring Festival.

Lanterns for sale a stall near my school.

This lantern features fish, which are also associated with luck and the New Year.

Because it's the year of the tiger, there are lots of cutesy little tiger souvenirs, like this one, for sale.

Yet another sign bearing a large "fú."

How can you really get into the holiday spirit without some holiday spirits? Boxes of 白酒 "báijiǔ" on prominent display.

New Year Hangings

Preparing for the city's major New Year celebrations at the Blue Thing.

On New Year's Day, this place would be packed full.

Dragons, yet another traditional Spring Festival motif.

Like many "spring" holidays, Spring Festival features lots of images about the return of flowers and plants. These red trees are no exception.

These "leaves" all bear different characters like "prosperity," "luck," or "happiness."

Store displays around here often feature the current year's zodiac animal. This year there are lots of cartoon tigers all over China.

An enormous floral lantern outside one of Ji'nan's downtown hotels.

New Year in the shadow of the Sofitel, Ji'nan's premier downtown hotel.

Public parks have been putting up large New Year's displays as well. This is the entrance to the park at Baotu Springs, right across from Ji'nan's main square.

The side entrance to Baotu Springs

A large decorative "vase" featuring tigers near the entrance to Baotu Springs.

After weeks of building anticipation, the day has arrived: Spring Festival has begun tonight! Welcome to the Year of the Tiger! I’ve just returned home from being out in downtown Ji’nan, seeing some of the celebration. Not that the celebration has by any means ended: It’s now quite late (after 1:30AM) and out my window, I can still hear the sounds of revelry– firecrackers, carhorns, happy voices, etc. . I’ve taken literally hundreds of photos from this afternoon onwards, and I will post them VERY soon, I promise. However my camera batteries are dead, and are currently recharging, so it’ll have to wait for tomorrow. I did, however, want to share some moments from tonight before I forget them. It has been quite a night.

The West has any number of significant holidays. None of them, however, are really equivalent to Spring Festival. On paper, one would say that Spring Festival is China’s Christmas. And as a definition of function, I suppose that would be correct. Both are the major gift-giving holiday of the year. Both have an extensive shopping season. From a commercial standpoint, it makes sense to equate the two. In practice, however, the two couldn’t seem more different. It’s hard to explain exactly what Spring Festival is. Of course, it’s a New Year’s celebration, and in that sense, there are elements that resonate with western New Year’s Eve: staying up until midnight to welcome in the coming year, traditions which center around getting a new start with a clean slate (the west has resolutions for the new year; China has a complete sweeping out of the house to literally start the year out clean).

But Spring Festival is more than just New Year’s Eve with a Chinese twist. There’s a strong family element here, too. Everyone goes home. My Chinese language teacher, Hao Nan told me that she and her mother would be  working very hard throughout today to prepare for the HUGE meal they would be having with her entire extended family (does this sound familiar to anyone who has climbed out of bed at some early hour to put a Thanksgiving turkey in the oven? I would think so). Tonight, almost everyone seemed to be gathering with family. Restaurants posted notices that they were closed so that the owners could go home (either within Ji’nan, or back to their hometowns in other places); After the holiday, the signs announced, the stores would reopen. So, like Thanksgiving in the US, this is a time for loved ones to come together.

All of these elements blend together to create an enormous event. The excitement surrounding today was palpable, and immediately upon walking outside it was noticeable. Shortly after 2PM I started making my way towards downtown to take in some of the festival atmosphere during the daylight. The streets were remarkably empty… and yet, there was an electricity everywhere. Something was getting ready to happen.  That something mostly manifested itself in the occasional setting off of fireworks. Even during the daylight fireworks had begun. In the streets, people were getting a head start on welcoming in the New Year by setting off Chinese firecrackers or (in one case) throwing Cherry bombs into a little pond, and watching the cascading water from the ensuing blasts. Near Ji’nan’s “Korea Town” section (basically just one large underground market), I witnessed daylight fireworks which launched plumes of colored smoke (red, yellow, teal, purple, green, etc.), before bursting into light in the middle of the air and raining confetti down on the street. I had never seen anything quite like this before, and I couldn’t help but be amazed by how unique and beautiful I thought they were.

By 6:00PM, some of my friends and I had converged on the square to meet up for the night. Our timing was perfect. At about that time, as dark was beginning to fall all around the city, the celebration began. Suddenly, fireworks started to appear in the sky. They were at first sporadic, and spaced out. A loud boom would cause us all to jerk our heads in all directions, searching for the source of the commotion, only to be turned around moments later by the rapid fire rattle of firecrackers. At first, we stood in the center of the largely empty square, wildly flashing our cameras, wheeling about in all directions, trying to catch whatever brief glimpse of pyrotechnics we were able to. Gradually the explosions intensified. By 7:00, the slow trickle of explosions had grown to a constant din. Bursts of light now came at random intervals from all directions. I’m going to have a hard time describing how these looked without pictures, but I’ll try. Even though we couldn’t get up close to these, they were remarkable from a distance: big, bright balls of red, green, and yellow light. Some burst out into spiral disks. Some spun like windmills. Others bloomed like flowers, bursting out sideways and pink like the open petals of waterlilies. Some sparkled and crackled as they burst. Other merely expanded to larger and larger orbs of spectacularly colored light.

Unlike on the 4th of July in the US, there isn’t any large, centralized, city-sponsored display (at least not in Ji’nan). Rather, every neighborhood, every family has their own stash of fireworks which they set off on New Year’s Eve. Earlier in the day, I had asked a guard near the Big Blue Thing where the best place in the city to view fireworks was. He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t really know,” he said, “I’m not sure that there is one.” I now understood the guard’s answer: Where was the best place to view the fireworks? Everywhere. Wherever there are people.

The fireworks would grow more and more steady throughout the night. We broke from the action and parted ways briefly to eat dinner (my friend Dave and I went to a “Buddhist” Restuarant which specializes in vegetarian food, to eat some traditional New Year staples… mainly dumplings). On the way, we decided that to fully participate in welcoming in the New Year, we would have to buy some of our own fireworks, and fortunately stumbled upon a stand just outside the restaurant. Stomachs full of food, and arms full of fireworks, we made our way to a nearby park. As far as I can tell, there is no restriction on setting off fireworks in public places in China. Or at least not on the eve of Spring Festival. We found a clearing in the park, and set up shop, going about the serious business of deciding which fireworks to light first and which to save for the finale.  Finally, at around 9:00, we got down to business and let them fly. It was much fun to watch as they shot up from the ground and burst in the air, and I’m glad to think that we got to add our own part to this celebration.

As the hour neared 10:oo, and there seemed to be a lull in the action as families took to their homes to enjoy meals, celebrate inside, and watch the annual gala on Chinese TV (think Chinese style-Dick Clark’s New Year’s Eve Program), we decided to go have a drink, warm up, and wait for midnight, at which point we were told by some who had some more experience in China, things would really get going. I found this hard to believe. After all, we had just been seeing fireworks coming from every corner of the city. How could it get more lively? I had no idea what was to come. We decided at 11:45 to go back out and see what was going on. Our timing was perfect, and we emerged just as the fireworks reached a frenzied peak.

I have never lived in an active warzone. I imagine it must be something like midnight on Lunar New Year in China. As we walked outside, the noise was deafening. The light was blinding. The firecrackers and fireworks were everywhere now. They came from all directions. On every street corner people lit firecrackers, and twirled sparklers as in the sky fireworks lit up everything into an incredible, colorful blaze. Burst of light shot out from rooftops, from in between buildings, from sidewalks, from alleyways, from above, from the side, from everywhere. These fireworks were noticeably taller, bigger and brighter than before. I suppose I should not be surprised at the elaborate nature of Chinese fireworks. After all, China invented gunpowder, and so naturally, they’ve had quite a lot of experience crafting light and explosion into works of beauty. These fireworks, however, were exceptionally beautiful. They exploded in bursts of gold and blue and were shaped like chrysanthemums. They crackled with gold and white, like the fluff of a dandelion. They streaked out from a brilliant white in the center to red and green at the ends, which seemed at some times to resemble poinsettias. They were simply amazing.

After all of this, I headed home, where I am now. I’ll try to post some pictures soon. I hope that they are even slightly representative of what I’ve seen tonight. Tomorrow will bring more celebration. There’s a big pavillion set up in the square. I intend to go check it out. I’ll report more on it tomorrow. For now let me wish all of you a happy New Year, and say, as many Chinese friends have to me recently: 心想事成! (May your wishes come true!)

It's holiday season: A Spring Festival store display near Jing An Temple in Shanghai.

Tonight, the countdown to the new year began here in Jinan. Most of you who are reading this are undoubtably under the impression that the new year began over a month ago. You would be right. Unless you lived in China. January 1 may mark the start of a new calendar year, but the Lunar New Year, or Spring Festival (chūnjié 春节) as it’s more commonly known over here, is the only new year which seems to matter much over here (in fact, one of my Chinese co-workers even jokingly referred to Spring Festival as the “real New Year,” which I guess I can’t really argue with given that from a Chinese view, it’s true). Chinese celebrations of the start of Western New Year’s are fairly low key. Though we saw many people celebrating the start of the New Year in January by going out to dinner, or having a small get together with friends, the reveling all seemed pretty small scale. I won’t say that we were alone in ringing in 2010, but it felt like it meant more to my foreign friends and I than it did to most of the other people we encountered that night.

Not so with the Spring Festival season, which began tonight, as part of a celebration called Little Spring Festival (xiǎonián, 小年). This is the day which begins the greater “New Year Season.” Every action taken to night begins a period of building excitement for the coming of the Year of the Tiger (which is incidentally the same sign as my birth year). For instance, I’m told that tonight you’re supposed to sweep out your house to clear away the dust and dirt of the old year. You’re also supposed to eat dumplings for reasons that are less apparent to me. Families have begun to hang New Years couplets on their door frames to invite good luck in the coming year (we’ve got to get ourselves some of these, actually as we’re about the only apartment in our building without any on our door).

The holiday spirit is certainly in the air. The big day itself won’t come for about another week (February 13), but the countdown has begun. This would be comparable to the Advent season for the church calendar in western cultures, except it has none of the somber characteristics. Preparation for the New Year has been more or less under way since Christmas (the transition is more or less seamless, as you can run one big gift-giving commercial holiday into another… even though Christmas isn’t a HUGE holiday over here, it’s marketable enough that Spring Festival can emerge from it as a consumer holiday). According to Wikipedia, the annual movement of people in an attempt to get home for the holiday season in China (called Chunyun, 春运, quite literally “Spring Festival Transportation”) is the largest migration in the world (one article for the Independent in London claimed that the migration encompassed, in total, 2 billion people). Understandably, our plans to travel to Haerbin, (a city in the north know for it’s Ice Festival) over the holiday have been compromised a bit by this fact (we’re still not sure what we’re going to do instead).

The shift into high gear for the New Year season has been noticeable. Everything seems to have adopted a red and gold New Year’s trim, from the advertisements on billboards, to the doors of peoples houses, and the decor at McDonald’s. Stores are putting up HUGE advertisements and displays around their entrances, and running all kinds of crazy sales to get people to buy some last minute New Year’s gifts. Street vendors with carts full of New Year’s items (paper lanterns, couplets, fireworks, incense, red enevelopes) have sprung up in lots of places around the city, including just down the street from my apartment. Dumpling restaurants are becoming considerably more packed as people clamor to eat traditional holiday food. Even sales of báijiǔ (白酒), a strong, and decidedly unpleasant Chinese spirit made from distilled sorghum, seemed to have increased or at least to more prominent displays at the front of grocery stores in anticipation of New Year revelry.

Tonight, as I walked in the streets on the way to dinner after work, Ji’nan was buzzing. Everywhere, people were setting off LOUD firecrackers. Every few minutes, fireworks would burst into the sky from somewhere just up ahead. People in Quancheng square were lighting the traditional paper lanterns that float skyward, raised by hot air, into the night. After a retreat during colder weather, lots of kite flyers were back out for the holiday, and what seemed like a larger than unusual number of food vendors lined the streets near the square. At the dumpling restaurant, every table was packed, and the din of noisy conversation reached a dull roar. The interior was steamy, so much so that it fogged up the windows. When we arrived we were told there were no tables available without a wait, and there would be no dumplings available for at least half an hour. As we rode back on the bus towards hone after dinner, I noticed lots of apartments with newly hung and lit latnerns, and many which had hung Christmas lights on the trees for the event. The effect is pervasive, inescapable: the holidays have arrived in full force.

Naturally, the assumption among most Chinese people we meet is that we’ll go home for the holiday. Like many Chinese holidays, Spring Festival is, after all, centered around being with your family. I explain that I simply can’t because of time and money constraints, which people understand. There does, however, seem to be a hint of sympathy extended when I admit that my own loved ones will be far away for this most important season. It’s strange, but the wistfulness I felt at Christmas and Thanksgiving about being away from home is somewhat compounded by this. Even though this event is completely foreign to me, in the midst of this out pouring of celebration and togetherness, my thoughts often turn to my own home. I hope that those of you who are reading this, regardless or where you are, find yourself in good health and in good company. 新年快乐! (Xīnnián kuàilè! or  ”Happy New Year!)

Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some more and better pictures of New Year celebrations as they unfold. Meanwhile, stay tuned. The holidays are upon us, and there’ll be much, much more to say as the day itself draws near.