May 1st is International Labor Day in China, or May Day if one goes by the terms of old. What does this mean? Simple: A day off.

International Labor Day celebrations in Kunming, China, 2008.

May Day celebrations harken back to the days of yore. Early Europeans celebrated a number of deities May 1, which was seen as a the halfway point between spring and summer. Christianity put a damper on the pagan celebrations and replaced them with Easter. The ancients held raucous celebrations, more about that latter.

May 1 is also known as International Labor Day. In many nations it is a “workers’ holiday” commemorating the Chicago’s Haymarket Massacre of 1886. Workers were shot and killed by police while striking for an eight-hour work day.

Until 2008, International Labor Day was a 7 seven day holiday in China. It was perfect: The halfway point of the school term. Two months done, two months left. Seven glorious days to travel in The Middle Kingdom, along with 1 billion other people.

China’s national holidays were changed in 2008, leaving May Day as a single day off. But, three more holidays were gained.  Tomb Sweeping Day, the Dragon Boat Festival, and Mid-Autumn Festival, formerly folk celebrations, were each made a national holiday. The seven-day May Day holiday became four long weekends. With that, holidays in China became much like Canada.

International Labor Day is a national holiday in China, Nepal, Germany, Brazil, Finland, Sweden, Iceland, Norway, and Hungary. Because of the May Day celebrations held in the former USSR and communist bloc countries, America celebrates Law Day or Loyalty Day on May 1. American legislators moved Labor Day to September in 1958. Canada also celebrates Labor Day in September, and Australia and New Zealand in late October.

I labor, so I’m pretty happy to have a holiday. Whether it’s honoring a nearly forgotten Roman goddess or nineteenth century labor martyrs, I’m happy to have a day sans work. Given the raucous celebrations of old, I will spend the afternoon of May 1 at a local establishment taking part in another ancient ritual: Happy Hour. My colleagues and I will have our own raucous celebration, raising a pint to the Haymarket Four, and whichever deities we can remember as our memories become clouded with two-for-one malty beverages.

Saturday I’ll visit the former Portuguese colony of Macau (weather permitting). Next week, I’m off to Beijing for four days and a photographic equipment trade show. After more than four years in China I may finally get to see this Great Wall I’ve heard so much about.

To all and sundry, Happy International Labour Day, or May Day!

Image: Go Kunming

s

When one door is closed, don’t you know, another is open.
Bob Marley

s

One of the 300 hundred wats, or Buddhist temples, in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Chiang Mai was founded in 1296 by King Mengrai and was the capital of the Lanna Kingdom in Northern Thailand. Surrounded by a moat and fortified with walls, the city defended against Burmese forays into the kingdom.

The quiet provincial city is now famous for its wats, handicrafts, jungle treks, and elephant riding. After enjoying hectic Bangkok, Chiang Mai is a great place to relax.

My week, using David Rochester’s method of posting Random Items in No Particular Order:

What is it? Red Dragon Fruit.

1. After owning my new flash for 24 hours it dropped from the light stand onto my tile floor. It still functions, although the optical-slave no longer works.

2. An hour later my new Sony Sport Headphones slipped off my shoulder and into a (clean) toilet. After a night of outdoor drying they still work dandy.

3) I had the opportunity to say, “No, that’s not what my contract says.” There’s something liberating in knowing you no longer having anything to prove.

4. I resolved to take my dinner to work every night. I packaged it up each day, but forgot to take it two of the four nights.

5. I may patent the recipe for Stevo’s Peanut Butter and Banana Smoothie. Said smoothie is quite delicious with Red Dragon Fruit (right) and omitting the PB.

6. I read that doing cardio first thing in the morning is good for you. With no available equipment I ran up and down my building’s 10 flights of stairs three times. I spent two days unable to walk down stairs pain-free. Like coverage of the Iraq conflict, don’t believe everything you read.

7. I turned down a very high-paying job with a Fortune 500 company.

8. The last hour of my work week seemed to take 9 hours to complete.

s

Enough about me, what’s been up in the blogosphere these past few weeks?

redRavine has a great interview with singer-songwriter Lisa Loeb . Fan or not, it’s an interesting read.

Stop and Wander’s photographic tribute to the destruction of Marshmallow Peeps is black comedy at its best.

Ron has a great image entitled Plane and Clouds, and is continuing his Boulevard of Broken Dreams Contest (Until May 1).   Don’t enter, I have it wrapped up.

Ron’s partner-in-crime, Robin, was exploring the world of black and white images, with stellar results. Her post reality is Must-See blogage.

Christine at Almost Fearless has a great post on her Shrinking World. Does the world get smaller, the more you travel?  Nomadic Matt tell us all why  Now is the best time to travel.   Julie at Collazo Projects says Shame on You: Lisa Ling & National Geographic: Thoughts About El Salvador.

Michael at Expatriate Games has a powerful post on a suicide attempt and the apathy of the witnesses to the event.

Josh at Xinjiang: Far West China has a great post on his new pooch, Rusty, becoming an official Chinese citizen.  The photos are a treat (If you have spent time in China, and dealt with bureaucracy and the “Red Stamp” you will appreciate it even more.)

Graham is regaling all with images and tales from his recent trip to Guilin.

From the renegade province of Taiwan (or Political Entity as I have heard it referred to), Carrie of My Several Worlds has a great interview with Lonely Planet Writer Joshua Samuel. Craig Ferguson, image master, presents a timely (and disturbing) photo essay on Tuol Sleng S21, the Khmer Rouge Prison

The weekend is almost upon me. I’m off to Hong Kong in an hour or two to pick up some wireless flash triggers and eat at Burger King. My weekend will be spent trying various lighting setups. I’ve convinced a colleague to pose (actually, she get to read a purloined English copy of Cosmo, and only has to pose when the lights are finally set up.)

One’s own self is well hidden from one’s own self; of all mines of treasure, one’s own is the last to be dug up.
Friedrich Nietzsche

For Ron, a glutton for punishment.

The people that come to teach English in China may have learned a little Mandarin before arriving in The Middle Kingdom. That usually goes out the window: The classroom and the street are vastly different environs.

Ni Hao, they will say (Hello). Or perhaps, Xie Xie (Thank you).  Other than those two key expressions, new people teaching English in China find themselves lost in a linguistic maze. The local accent, the rapid-fire delivery, lead to confusion, bewilderment, and more often than not, fright.

There is one phrase all new ESL teachers learn: Something key to their survival in the high-pressure, crazy, dog-eat-dog world of teaching English overseas:

Pijiu.

Beer. That’s right. Before many learn to say (in Chinese) “My name is Bob, I’m an English teacher,” they learn to say: Pijiu. The scholars may learn to say: Liang ping pijiu (two bottles of beer).

As they learn the magic word they also learn to forget the polite customs of their homelands. A wave at a waitress might result in a wave back, or a smile. Softly calling, “Xiao Jie,” (miss) will not get cold bottles of pijiu to your table. Chinese restaurants at meal times can be a controlled riot. You must be loud to be heard over the din of other diners, the kitchen, and the honking horns outside.

Politeness is forgotten as quickly as pijiu is assimilated into the linguistic psyche. The wave or cleared throat is replaced with the bellowed, “Pijiu,” the English teacher holding an empty bottle over their head like a trophy that is be both feared and admired. Even if the waitress doesn’t understand the pronunciation of pijiu, the dead soldier is a visual cue.

That cultural hurdle overcome, new people teaching English in China can learn more useful Chinese phrases like: How much is this?

Photo: Me and my new Strobist gear.