The Nevada Sagebrush

For the second consecutive year, I’ve had the privilege of spending China’s most celebrated holiday, the Chinese New Year, with my Chinese family.

Usually Chinese New Year, which started Jan. 26, consists of everyone in China, except for those with unlucky occupations such as military personnel and government workers, having a one-week holiday. During this time, people usually travel back to their hometowns to be with their family, eat traditional meals and light fireworks.

In China, the reason for shooting fireworks during this time is a little bit different than in the United States. They believe in a ghost called Nian which also is the same character as “year,”when written. Nian brings with him bad luck and misfortune. By setting off the fireworks, Chinese believe that they will scare Nian away along with all of his terrible qualities.

For a foreigner, this makes for one of the most amazing shows ever seen. Literally everyone in the city that can afford fireworks buys them, and they aren’t the little bottle rockets either. We’re talking about the massive boxes that take at least two people to carry out into the street.

Exactly at midnight on the night before New Year’s, all of the people in China set off their fireworks at once (there is only one time zone in all of China), making for one of the most visually stimulating and arguably frightening experiences of one’s life.

That’s how our New Year’s started out. With my Chinese sister home from Beijing and all of us on the top floor balcony of our penthouse celebrating, we watched the city go ablaze.

After that first night, it seemed like everyday we were so busy with doing, well, nothing. We ate four to five meals a day, sang karaoke for hours at a time, went to the countryside to breathe “fresh air”and had massive dinner parties.

One night stands out in my mind vividly.

My mother’s friend, who is one of the chief editors for the Chengdu Daily Newspaper, invited my Chinese mom, sister and I to a dinner party at a ridiculously expensive restaurant, along with 15 of his good friends.

One of his friends was living and working in Hong Kong and could speak some broken English so he decided to practice his English with me.

Another guest was the owner of a massive bai jiu factory (a Chinese clear alcohol that has around 75 percent alcohol by volume) outside of Chengdu. He thought it would be cool to bring three bottles of his factory’s best, which by the end of the night was only shared by four men in the room. This was especially awkward for me, considering I don’t drink.

This turned slowly into a full-blown singing and dancing competition that lasted nearly three hours. Everything from Christmas songs (in my honor), to revolutionary songs about Mao Zedong and every kind of Chinese opera that exists was preformed that night.

When asked at the end of the night how Chinese New Year compared to American Christmas, I just looked at the questioning party, laughed, thanked them for the evening and walked home.

Steven Haines can be reached at perspectivs@nevadasagebrush.com.

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