The Chinese Lantern Festival will be celebrated February 28, bringing Chinese Lunar New Year to an end. The 15-day long Spring Festival will draw to a close. No more closed businesses, and most importantly, no more fireworks. I have never lived in a war zone, but the constant deafening explosions of past two weeks have given me a fair indication of what an artillery strike would sound like. I think Expatriate Games would agree….

The Lantern Festival will see the first full moon of the new year – this year being the Chinese Year of the Tiger. Modern practices see families walking outside, children holding colorful paper lanterns, appreciating the moon. Glutinous Rice Balls called yuanxiao are the traditional festival food often eaten in soup called tangyuan.

The Lantern Festival has been celebrated for thousands of years. Why lanterns? What’s the deal? If I’ve learned anything in China it is there are many different explanations for everything.

One legend says the festival was a way to worship the Chinese god of heaven, Taiyi. Beginning with the Qin Dynasty, emperors would hold elaborate celebrations to appease the god and ward off possible droughts, famine, disease, and possibly dragon attacks. The end of Spring Festival is also the birthday of the Taoist god of good fortune, Tianguan. It was believed that Tianguan liked entertainment. Since there were no strippers in the days of yor, lanterns were a way of giving the dude what he craved, and hopefully having him grant good fortune to lantern bearers.

There are other stories. Which one is true? That’s a matter of personal choice. I’m partial to the story of the Lantern Festival starting as a way of deceiving the Jade Emperor in Heaven. Some villagers inadvertently hunted and killed the Jade Emperor’s favorite bird. That’s a big no-no – don’t mess with a god’s avian friends. He was a little angry and decreed the village would be destroyed in a storm of fire.

Mr. Jade’s daughter over heard his plan and told the villagers. A village wiseman decided to hang red lanterns, start big bonfires, and toss around fireworks to make the village look like it was on fire. When the Jade Emperor’s soldiers arrived to launch their shock and awe attack they saw the village was already ablaze. They reported back to the emperor who probably said, “Good,” and went back to doing his other Jade Emperor duties.  The villagers celebrated not being burnt to a crisp with the lanterns and fireworks each year on the anniversary of their deception. In your face, Jade Emperor.

I’ll be in Hong Kong, a mecca for Indian tailors and African drug dealers,  for this year’s Lantern Festival. I’ll see what trouble I can get into and the possible photos that result.

Headed to work: A restaurant hostess in a Qipao.

You don’t see average Chinese folk in traditional dress. I guess you don’t in other countries either. Germans don’t attend business meetings in lederhosen, unless that business meeting is held by a lederhosen manufacturer.

The Qipao, the high-necked, long-slitted traditional woman’s dress of China, is possibly one of hottest most attractive garments in the world, but it’s a tad impractical.  Yes, women wear them, to parties, on dates, etc., but your don’t (unfortunately) see Chinese women lounging around the house in a qipao. There aren’t gaggles of ladies in form-fitting Mandarin gowns strolling the boulevards.

In modern China the qipao has been relegated to uniform wear. It’s worn by three types of hostesses: The ones at restaurants, KTVs, and massage parlors.  When driving down a street you can tell the sort of establishment by the dress of the hostesses standing out front. Without seeing the business’s sign you know you are before a restaurant, KTV, or massage parlor. For fans of prepared foods, karaoke, or muscle kneading, it’s a win-win.

Mrs. Stevo has a few qipaos in her wardrobe. She can’t wear them at present – the watermelon-sized Stevo-to-be residing in her belly has seen to that. There are’t maternity versions of the classic Chinese dress.

I can’t think of traditional Canadian attire, but Canada is very young country with a heritage of combined cultures. A stereotypical outfit comes to mind, but that’s not “traditional”.  What about you? What is your country’s tradition attire? Does anyone wear it?

My life has undergone drastic changes over the past year.  I no longer get to “hang” with the young folk  of various nations as I did when teaching ESL in China. Most of my “hanging” is with my wife, although I don’t know if one can “hang” with their spouse. I’m not down with all the hip lingo.

One of the teachers I worked with last year has returned and is living in my spare room. The strapping lad, English teacher cum skater/writer has given me back the ability to “hang.” I recently tagged along while he tricked with some local Chinese skate rats. I snapped a few with my old Canon 400D, lamenting its poor performance.

Strapping lad, a former Nike intern, is putting together a blog on Skating in Shenzhen China. Skateboarding in China isn’t what it is in North America, he explained. In China, you can skate almost anywhere. And, given the effectiveness of Chinese security guards, skaters have little, if nothing, to worry about.

That said, the sport has been slow in taking off. A flickr commenter mentioned pro skate teams have been coming to Shenzhen since 2001. The sport has yet to become widespread among young people. While Shenzhen has a population of 12 million – being hip-deep in Chinese skaters isn’t a real fear. Yet.

Socially, China is 20 years behind the west. I have witnessed women’s fashion progress from the Cyndi Lauper-esque outfits I saw in junion high to the sweater dresses I remember from high school.  Aside: A member of the world’s oldest profession (not farmer) dressed in a Cyndi Lauper outfit, complete with crimped hair, is amusing. Sometimes, life in China is like a look at your past, or a never-ending Halloween party.

I hope to spend some more time shooting the skaters (with a camera, not a gun) if it gets warmer. The weather has been dreadful. Four days of temperatures near freezing in an apartment with no insulation or central heat is not something anyone sane wants to undertake.

An extravagant dinner is a big part of the recent Chinese Mid Autumn Festival celebration (a much tastier part than the moon cakes). Mrs. Stevo and I were lucky enough to dine with some friends, Kejia or Hakka people. When I heard snake was on the menu I started to highly anticipate the meal. Would it taste like chicken, as I had heard? Frog, another legendary chicken-flavored meat, does taste somewhat like chicken I had discovered.

Snake is much better than Chinese Mooncakes

Mrs. Stevo has a pathological fear of snakes. Not like, “Yikes, a snake!”  More like, a crying fit that requires a sedative. This fear isn’t limited to the live reptile: It also extends to anything that looks like (in her perception) a snake. Toy snakes, the elongated shadow of a moth, gerbils, all cause a screaming fit. Mrs. Stevo was a little hesitant to attend the Mid-Autumn Festival celebration in case live snakes were slithering around. That was not the case, the snakes were cooked.

The yellow-tinted snake wine tasted venomous. It was if the snake was biting the inside of your mouth from the great hereafter. It wasn’t without its charms but not a tipple I would partake of every day.  I did not sample the snake gallbladder wine. I will only go so far in my efforts to culturally assimilate.

An earthen pot held snake and chicken soup. The steamy, light-flavored broth did indeed taste like chicken. I didn’t get to eat the snake meat: Mrs. Stevo’s nerves started to get jittery when she realized the pot was full of snake. The fact the snake was deceased and had been cooked for several hours didn’t matter much.

The giant platter of snake meat looked a lot like fried fish fillets. The skin was a greyish black. As I pulled the meat from the bones I was a tad repulsed. You’re eating a snake, a gross slithering creature, my inner monologue droned. I pushed forward, eating the snake fillet, and then another.

Yes, snake does taste like chicken. The texture, at least of the snake I ate, was chicken-esque.

My next goal, a difficult one, is eating monkey. Yes, the look cute on TV, that’s just good PR. If you have ever dealt with a real monkey (the little bastards) you’d ask for an invite to the feast.

Asians around the world are preparing to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival aka the Moon Festival. September 14 will be the date for the 2008 festivities. The festival is popular in China, Vietnam, Korea, and other east-Asia nations.

I’ve talked about other Chinese holidays (Seven-Seven and the Dragon Boat Festival). The Mid-Autumn Festival originates from a folktale about a rabbit, an archer and his beautiful wife, immortality, and celestial bodies.

This is no simple holiday, like Christmas. There’s no man in a red suit giving you presents. It’s complicated stuff; you need Cliff’s Notes to keep the characters straight. Luckily, dear reader, you have an intrepid journalist deep in the heart of (south) China, willing to go to any length to get the skinny on this fête.

…there was an immortal named Houyi, part of the court of the Jade Emperor, the King of Heaven. Before they wed, Houyi’s lovely wife Chang’e, had been an attendant to the Queen Mother of the West (the Emperor’s wife).

Houyi the archer and Chang'e the lady on the moon.

The immortals, probably because they had little else to do (and bowling had yet to be invented) liked to squabble. Houyi somehow aroused the other immortals’ jealousy. Being petty, they slandered Houyi before the Jade Emperor. He and Chang’e were banished from heaven. The couple lived upon the earth and hunted to survive. Houyi became a famous archer.

In the days of yor, 10 suns circled the earth, a different one each day. Then: Catastrophe. All 10 suns appeared in the sky the same day. The earth was a mess. Crops were scorched, people received nasty burns (SPF ratings, like bowling, had not been invented yet) and without the invention of electricity there wasn’t a cold Coke in sight.

China’s Emperor Yao commanded Houyi to shoot down nine of the 10 suns, lest The Middle Kingdom be destroyed. Houyi, skilled bow-and-arrow dude that he was, complied and shot the fiery balls of gas from the heavens. The Emperor was pleased and gave Houyi a pill that granted eternal life, but warned the archer to fast and reflect for one year before taking it.

At home, Houyi hid the pill in the rafters and started to prepare himself as instructed. Enter Chang’e. She noticed a beam of light from the rafters and discovered the pill. Houyi returned and she swallowed the pill to mask her discovery. He wasn’t pleased, and berated her for her transgression. The pill had given her the power to fly, and that she did, into the sky. Her husband chased her until a strong wind forced him to return to earth.

Chang’e ended up on the moon. her flying powers spent. She coughed and half the pill fell from her mouth. She lived with the Jade Rabbit, that according to Chinese mythology, resides on the moon.  The rabbit, an apothecary to the immortals, was put to work trying to replicate the second half of the pill so she could return to earth.

The Jade Rabbit, resident of the moon.

Aside: There are many explanations for the rabbit on the moon. Some versions say Chang’e took the rabbit with her, another says the rabbit was already in residence, having been given a place in the moon palace after sacrificing himself for three hungry sages.

Somehow, Houyi built himself a palace on the sun. Once a year, on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month – Mid-Autumn Festival – he visits his wife, thus explaining the moon’s brightness on this day. Houyi was the yang (male symbol) and Chang’e, the ying (female symbol).

Trying to decipher this tale is difficult. In one version Houyi is a tyrant that saves the world from the suns and then takes the throne. He has his court wizards prepare a elixir of immortality so he can be king forever. Chang’e doesn’t like her husband’s despotic rule and steals the elixir so he can’t lord over his subjects for eternity. Another tale is similar to the story of Pandora’s Box.

Mid-Autumn festival is the second most important Chinese Holiday (Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year being the first). It’s a time for family reunions and a celebration of the harvest.

The food of the festival is the Moon Cake: Lotus seed paste wrapped in a thin pastry. Egg yolks or salted eggs are often the center of the cakes. It is a heavy delicacy, often eaten in small portions with tea.

From Wikipedia:
Traditional mooncakes have an imprint on top consisting of the Chinese characters for “longevity” or “harmony” as well as the name of the bakery and filling in the moon cake. Imprints of a moon, a woman on the moon, flowers, vines, or a rabbit may surround the characters for additional decoration.

Mooncakes are expensive and considered a delicacy, and production is labor-intensive and few people make them at home. Most mooncakes are bought at Asian markets and bakeries. The price of mooncakes range from $10 to $50 (in US money).

The holiday can be traced back to 1060 BCE, to the Chinese Xia and Shang Dynasties. It was during the Tang Dynasty (5th to 8th centuries) that it became very popular. With the recent change in national holidays, Mid-Autumn festival is now a day off. Previously it was celebrated but not granted “day off” status.

What do people for Mid-Autumn festival? Simple: Go to a restaurant or someone’s home. Eat a big meal, drink, and consume moon cakes. A less-than-reliable website has a different idea, it lists the following as the activities engaged in:

A mooncake - the food of Mid-Autumn Festival.

• Eating moon cakes outside under the moon
• Putting pomelo rinds on one’s head
• Carrying brightly lit lanterns
• Burning incense in reverence to deities including Chang’e
• Planting Mid-Autumn trees
• Lighting lanterns on towers
• Fire Dragon Dances

I should be Wiki’s man on the ground. That list is not entirely correct.

Happy Mid-Autumn Festival. I’ll be thinking of you while eating moon cakes.

Flag waving in Tiananmen Square during the 2006 National Day celebrations. Photo by: People's Daily Online.

China turns 60 years old on October 1.

National Day will see China the nation celebrate the founding of the People’s Republic of China. It’s a week-long holiday, the last of the year, with parades, gala television specials, and flags-a-waving.

Guóqìngjié (guo: country, qing: celebration, jie: day) or National Day turns Chinese cities and towns into a sea of red and yellow flags. Like the Spring Festival holiday (Chinese New Year) many people use the time off to travel home. My town will likely see 10 of the 12 million residents fly, bus, and train their way back to Hunan, Guangxi, Hubei, and Sichuan provinces. Like North America, businesses will offer sales ‘o plenty. Department and electronics store will offer deals like their western counterparts.

China fought a 23 year civil war, much of it while trying to repel Japanese invaders during the second world war. The Kuomintang (KMT) and Communists forces battled across the nation in a conflict that left millions dead. After the Japanese surrender, the People’s Liberation Army was able to turn the tide against the nationalists, and push the remaining KMT forces into south China.

Mao Zedong proclaimed the People’s Republic of China on October 1, 1949 in Beijing. The KMT forces retreated to Taiwan, continuing the Republic of China and claiming the entire nation, in exile. There was no clear-cut resolution; no armistice has ever been signed in the conflict. Tensions have (and still do) flare over the issue. One KMT division, based in Burma (Myanmar) continued with a guerrilla campaign that lasted into the 1960s. (The Division eventually settled in northern Thailand. There is a Thai village, full of Chinese houses. The residents speak Yunanese, a Chinese dialect.)

China’s National Day, Guóqìngjié, celebrates the re-birth of a nation.

Happy 60th Birthday China. Guóqìngjié kuai le.