As I write the drums and cymbals of the second day of Chinese New Year are hammering out below the window of my apartment. It’s now the year of the Woodsnake, a year for the strong-minded. I spent the first day with the extended family of some local friends and colleagues. I couldn’t dress in auspicious colours (red and yellow) but my Hawaian shirt had some red in it and at least complied with requirement to be bright and cheerful. I didn’t buy new clothes for the occasion as is supposed to be the case (treating yourself). I also took along the mandatory pairs of mandarins/oranges to exchange with both sets of hosts, and one red packet for the young son of the first set.
Then to the taxi, ordered in advance because they are much
scarcer on a public holiday especially this main one. Out through the lobby of my
block, also dressed overall for CNY. Like most Singaporeans my main hosts live
in one of a cluster high rises. In their cases its on the 15th floor,
offering great views of a densely populated area that is still determinedly
green. From its inception the modern city was built in accordance with Feng
shui to ensure natural harmony.
Although in many places the greenery is necessarily paper thin, they take
planting urban trees and bushes far, far
more seriously than we do, or the rest of Asia for that matter.
Back to CNY. I arrived exchanged oranges, handed over the envelope – always with money in it and not to be opened on the day. Technically to all singles and kids. All is carefully performed and remembered.
Then some Hakka appetisers – minced meat and noodles, and a Tiger beer while
final arrangements were made for our departure to the lunchtime hosts in
another high rise a little way off.
The time was passed with the young son, recovering from minor knee surgery, watching what I think was Godzilla II on a wall sized monitor. Set in an imaginary post-war Japan, its hero in the struggle against a vast and distinctly unfriendly monster from the deep was a failed kamikaze pilot and featured a much bigger Japanese navy than had survived the war. One of the ships I noticed was even called ‘kamikaze.’ Our hero achieved the mission of destroying the thing (or did he ? Options for Godzilla III were maintained) and even relocated Ariko, his young lady who had somehow survived the complete destruction of the high rise she was sheltering in. I found it quite genuinely fascinating, for all the analogies to a nuclear attack and the heroism of the military in a way that would have been completely unacceptable in Japan until the last decade or so.
The second apartment was much older and stuffed with traditional Chinese stuff, wall hangings red and yellow decorations of all sorts. Piles of food, absolutely everywhere, Hokkien as this set of parents came from a different part of China. A nice set of traditional ebony chairs from Taiwan. The apartment was completely packed with people moving around, eating, talking, sitting down and piles of kids playing obscure but noisy games in the corners of the room and collecting their red packets of course. The first day of CNY is for families, the second a more formal affair for friends. Everybody was extremely friendly. I was doing them the greatest favour imaginable by coming. Initially I was parked with some of the oldies. The chap next to me was second generation and used to be an expert on mending escalators. He showed me evidence of his second by-pass operation. Apparently now banned from riding his scooter by the rest of the family. His English wasn’t amazing, but a damn sight better than my mandarin. I was plied with food and drink sat and watched the animated scene with real interest.
What a big family I thought. I had been warned in advance
but was really taken aback by the successive arrival of new family groups
pouring in over the next hour or so. One of these groups was 17 people,
including kids. They don’t get together very often and so set to work catching
up in louder and louder mandarin and some Singlish, with explanations for me. At its peak there
were between 60 and 70 people crammed into quite a small flat. It was joyful
and excited bedlam. We ate at the table in informal shifts with people coming
and going all the time. We above were about shift 4.
It was all very jolly. And I really did feel welcome as the
only non-family member and a foreigner to boot. The females in particular have
what I think the perfectly charming habit of energetically waving at you with
beaming smiles when standing just 2 feet away. Pressure was relieved a bit when
some of the kids were taken off to swim in the High Rise’s pool, and the time
flashed past.
Then it was time to go, collecting one's oranges. Because they
represent gold you have to leave with the same number that you came with. Back
to the first flat where my hosts set to work preparing for Round 3. I wasn’t
allowed to help, so was plonked on the settee with the young lad, given a bottle
of Belgian beer (Leffe Blond, which I am very familiar with) more food to stave
off starvation and started watching another fantasy. Not so sure about its plot as I fell
asleep. Just for a short while. I was given a tour of the flat. Very minimalist
and modern on the surface but all sorts of things stuffed into concealed corners.
Especially into the mandatory air-raid shelter that all Singaporean flats are
built with. I only hope that there’s enough warning before the Malaysians
attack, for my hosts to get all their bicycles and so forth out of it first.
Then about half the lunch assembly arrived in contingents.
Only about 30 people all told but in quite a small living area it seemed more.
A bit calmer. Lots of chatting – the contingents including Air Force and Army officers,
teachers, administrators, ex-museum administrators, one of who ran a photography
gallery, judging exhibitions in London from time to time. More food and drink.
Needless to say when they finally let me go ( I was the first in and the last
out) I came away with a box of hakka
vegetarian. They got me a Grab and home I went.
So today, day 2, it being hot and my feeling a touch weary, I stayed at home, postponing a planned trip. But this did give me a literally bird’s eye view of how the elegant landed property behind me handled day 2 with friends. This was an equally crowded but much fancier affair, with everyone nicely dressed in clothes that looked new even if they weren’t. Bigger I think. Probably over 100.
They had got in some caterers and even hired a Lion Dance team to entertain the masses. Hence all the drumming, clashing cymbals and shouting by 30 odd performers all dressed in gorgeous red and yellow costumes. This is an acrobatic effort in which the Lion seeks out oranges and occasionally bites people on the head to bring them good luck. Its very loud.
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