Gong Xi Fa Chai!

 

Hello All,

As you know, I spent New Year’s Eve over the Atlantic, so I felt a bit cheated. Particularly when 2011 was going to be such a big year for me-studying abroad, graduating law school, taking the bar, and starting my first real job (actual job pending). Imagine my relief when I found out that Chinese New Year is in February, and it’s quite a big deal here in Singapore! I would get the fireworks and revelry that I had missed. Chinese New Year, or lunar new year, lasts twenty-two days with festivities throughout. There is a big celebration on New Year’s Eve, and although Lisa and I were leaving bright and early the next morning for Malaysia, we decided to brave the crowds and partake in the fun.

First, Lisa and I went to Chinatown, believing it to be the hotbed of activity. What it was turned out to be hot as hell, smelly, crowded, and uneventful. We were there for over an hour, in shoulder-to-shoulder traffic (or much worse-Asians as a rule seem not to understand personal space) waiting for something cool to happen. You’d think since we were standing in front of a stage something cool might happen, but it never did. I thought I was going to pass out from the heat, so we left, grabbing water at 7-11.

Upon our arrival at Marina Bay, we discovered it had started pouring, which meant that we were undoubtedly going to get soaking wet but also that the crowds would be thinner. I was worried that the fireworks might be cancelled, but we were assured by a security guard that would not happen. They’d be going off at 12:08. Eight is  lucky number because the Mandarin word for eight sounds like the Mandarin word for “luck” or “prosperity”. This is a big thing here: words that sound like other words that mean good things make those things lucky. I’m not explaining it well, but anyway look it up if you want to know more.

There’s a big carnival down by the water called Hong Bao, and we headed that way. Hong Bao are the red envelopes that Chinese married people give to children and unmarried adults at the New Year. They’ve full of money, from $5 or so to way more, depending on who’s giving them out. Other interesting CNY trivia-no getting haircuts during the holiday, and all debts held are cleared (I can only assume this is not taken literally.) Oranges are handed out for good luck, but I’m not really sure why.

Anyway, the carnival was pretty deserted, but we made our way over there to procure a spot for the fireworks. Afterwards, we decided that we maybe should have stayed on the bridge to get a better view, but if we had stayed on the bridge, we would have missed the bizarre spectacle that is the BOPI DANCERS! No, I don’t know anything about them. Nor can I explain them. I can only imagine they’re some kind of cartoonish spectacle, but they might be serious. The picture below gives you some idea about the weirdness I was dealing with. Yes, that is a quasi-sexy music video going on behind those creepy costumed dancers. Weird. Just, weird.

Anyway, the fireworks were very cool. Right before they went off, there was a short film played about a boy and his dad through the years. In the beginning, the boy gets a huge hong bao envelope from his dad so that he can fix his motorcycle. He vows the repay his father for his kindness. Flashforward twenty or so years and the boy is now a father himself, working maniacally to deliver his orange trees on time to get home for the CNY feast at home. Why is he working so hard? To earn the last bit of money he needs to repay his aged father of course! After an altercation (Dad doesn’t want to take the money), son slipsit into his father’s cashbox anyway. All is revealed by the adorable five year old grandson, who asks his father why he put money into grandpa’s cash box. After a tense money, grandfather chokes out “because he understands the meaning of filial piety.” Now, I imagine something got a bit lost in translation, and that this was just a cheesy government propaganda movie, but I had a hard time swallowing that. The movie ends in smiles as the kid gives his father his own hong bao envelope, presumably containing $3 or so. Despite the unbelievable corniness (and the cultural divide I felt-we just don’t really discuss filial piety in the West), I thought the movie was very sweet.  And the fireworks were super-cool, too. I guess they should be, given that fireworks were invented out here in the Far East. (A friend of mine fb’d me and said “enjoy the Far East” and I was like, dude, I AM in the Far East! That sounds so much more exotic than South East Asia! Sweet!) Tired, but glad we’d gone, Lisa and I made the long trek home, prepared to head to Malaysia very early the next morning. But for those exploits, you will have to wait for a few days. Blogging is hard work, you know. Until then, this is Singapore Sue, signing off and saying sayonara*, suckers! Love you all.

*my spellcheck informs me I have been spelling sayonara wrong for a very long time. Did no one know this? Why didn’t you tell me? Anyway, fixed now. My defense is that Japanese characters don’t really translate into English well anyway, and you can spell things however you want.  Highly embarrassing.