It's Chinese New Year. The largest massive movement of people in the whole world, when the one billion Chinese people are on the move, back to their hometowns to celebrate with family. Scandals abound- people scalping train tickets, construction companies not paying their migrant workers until the last minute. Drama galore. And yet, Year of the Golden Pig. This only happens once every 60 years. Earth pig, water pig, fire pig, wood pig, metal pig. Golden pig is a year in which to have babies- a very prosperous year, indeed. Hospitals all over China are preparing for the onslaught of babies. No worries, I will not be participating in that adventure...
Nina and I decide to spend one night in the Le Meridien fancy schmancy hotel, downtown, in the thick of it all. Pay a little extra for a ceiling to floor window room with a view of the river and the Bund skyline. So, there we are in the hotel. Snacks galore, peering out the window, drinking champagne, bothering housekeeping for more towels and more ice and more free shampoo! Ok, maybe a little too much champagne. Nina and I are asleep by 11pm. We are awoken violently by the explosion of fireworks. Perhaps you imagine fourht of July in the states. Wrong. Nobody can prepare you for the sounds of Chinese New Year, in country. Explosions and detonations, not exactly pretty red and yellow flowers decorating the air. Fireworks here are one big explosion after the next. If I didnt know this was a time to celebrate, I might fear for my life. Nina and I are pulled from slumber at midnight to the cacophony. Fear grips me for a moment. Then I realize, this is a celebration!
To make it really authentic, we find a sidewalk open air restaurant for a dumpling breakfast. Nothing beats a bowl of steaming onion broth with dumplings and a side of latte. Thanks to Nina's perfect Mandarin, we happily dine. Drums, dragons, red everywhere, golden pigs, fireworks exploding at your feets, small children running with explosives in hand, and the stalking of lions dancers, ah... Chinese New Year in Shanghai.
Nina is the redhead woman in the sea of black Chinese hair. She is not afriad to throw herself in front of the dragon dancers. There are lion dancers and dragon dancers. We wake up from our not so fitfull slumber (fireworks exploding like bombs all night tend to interrupt dream time) and head down to the street. First stop: coffee. Next stop, catch those lions and dragons!! Dragons are the long creatures, held high by ten or twelve or fifteen dancers. Lions dancers are two guys, huddled and balanced inside the lion costume, front legs and back legs. It is 8am new years day and Nina and I hit the streets in search of dancers. We find them, we follow them, we consider getting on the bus with them. They travel from square to square, performing. Welcome the year of the pig. Sometimes the dancers sit on a bench and smoke cigarettes. We strike poses everywhere possible.
