Yesterday was the Chinese New Year (or Lunar New Year, observed by many cultures), and I spent most of the day in Chinatown. I awoke early enough, given that it was a weekend, and was sure to dress with a red shirt and my jade earrings and had a mandarin orange and green tea before heading out the door. I wanted to beat the crowds to get a nice hot bao for breakfast before the parade.
I heard the drone of bagpipes as I approached the Millenium Gate. Of course there's bagpipes, as there is in every parade in Vancouver, likely fitted in between a troupe of lion dancers and and some charity group. Many diverse groups participate in this parade, with such a huge attendance it's great exposure for a company or cause. I figured I'd better get a photo before the _professional_ photographers block my view during the parade, which they did. From somewhere else yet unseen a large deep drum was pounding for the lion dancers, The skies were grey, and surely it would rain on my parade.
It did.
I saw a dragon-on-a-stick being led wrong way down the street to the parade lineup; its ornate, detailed and possibly expensive head likely papier mache and thus covered in a plastic bag, along with the bright fabric body. Somehow the thought of this mighty magical beast stuck under wraps seemed sadly funny. Poor dragon in a baggie! I've seen lion dancers with their lion helmets bagged too, and the large eyes and fluffy eyelashes peering out through plastic look less like a fierce carnivore and more like a cute critter that was curiously nosing some garbage and got its head stuck. Like silly cat videos online.
The parade started with a truck dangling a length of firecrackers, followed by the 'Emperor' to kick off the parade and wave a blessing at everyone. Then the Vancouver Police Pipe Band. Then was our Prime Minister, flanked by security and a ton of photographers, wishing us a happy new year and happily waving to everyone. Then a whole entourage of MPs handing out Lucky Red Packets (hongbao/lai see), usually with chocolate coins or candy and perhaps some promotional note - I'm sure they don't know me from dirt come election time, but sure I'll take their candy and well-wishes.
After that was a parade of, well, parade groups. A Sikh motorcycle club, police and ambulance, and pretty much any group that can march or otherwise move as a unit was represented, even the youngest scout troops bundled up warmly but not really thrilled to be there. Young dancers in costumes rather than coats kept moving enough to hopefully not mind the cold and wet. Throughout these were the lions and dragons.
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| Dragon #1 spared no expense with glowing red eyes. |
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| Dragon #2, and someone oblivious to the gaping mouth behind them. |
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| Dragon #3 |
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| Dragon #4 munching on the leader's head! |
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| Dragon #5 is made of balloons. |
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| Dragon #6 |
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| Dragon #7 in its baggie! |
I found a lion battling a tyrannosaurus rex. I have no idea why a tyrannosaurus rex was here, what group it's representing or why it felt compelled to battle a lion, yet somehow it's not surprising in this seemingly anything-goes parade. The crowd loved it, the dinosaur pitifully smacking with his tiny arms and the lion biting with its flappy mouth and trying to kick a bit with sneakers on its 'paws'. And both were absolutely silent. This made it even funnier.
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| An inquisitive lion investigates a hanging baggie... |
Then I followed a red and silver lion around for a bit. I was told that all these different colored lions belong to different competing martial arts groups, and visit the local shops and businesses to dance and offer the lion's blessing for a prosperous new year, in exchange the businesses give the lions leafy lettuce (the green looks like paper money), and a Lucky Red Packet with a donation to the group, which is a primary source of fundraising for tours and tournaments.
So the lions, sometimes in pairs, are accompanied by several interchangeable pairs of legs to swap out on a moment's notice, and with a cart for a large drum and gong clanging a simple, loud, repetative CLANG CLANG CLANG!!! I recall one year I followed several lions all around Chinatown and even into the mall and squeezed into the tiny mall elevator with them, all part of the joyous ruckus. Nowadays, frankly I don't *need* that much clanging.
A lion will approach a storefront with what can only be described as a swaggering butt wiggle in time to the clanging beat. It then stands directly in front of the door wriggling that cute fluffy body. It looks left, right, down, and finally up (it does the same at every door, you'd think they'd learn after the umpteenth time to look up first) to find with great expressive delight a head of lettuce and Lucky Red Packet suspended from the doorway like mistletoe. Occasionally someone from a balcony will lower it down on a long line, like they're fishing for lions. Shown here is a lion being hand-fed. Having spied the tempting lure the lion will leap quickly or sometimes carefully tower up on its hind legs to reach it gingerly with its soft mouth - sometimes you can see the hand reach out and grab it. It stands feet firmly planted and head lowered while the lion 'chews' the lettuce, then with a drum roll it triumphantly flings the shreds over the crowd. Lettuce-eating lions are very messy eaters. Then with great front-leg strides and a long neck it will bow deeply to the store, and some quick little steps back draws itself up to repeat twice more. Then the happy lion heads off to the next shop to do this all again. A highly aerobic workout for the fluffy-legged humans inside.
Enough of firecrackers, drums and gongs - I retreated to the
Sun Yat-Sen Gardens along with everyone else it seemed; the narrow walkways funneled many visitors into a somewhat orderly flow two persons wide with strategically designed areas to congregate, an imposed chaos-into-order that forces one to slow down. Much like the di shui tiles that adorn the roof, no matter how light or hard it rains the water falls a single drop at a time, like a beaded curtain. I thought of the beauty in the singleness among the masses, and the small drops contributing to the greater overall effect. Designed with attention to detail and calculated to enhance flow and tranquility, around every corner an artful vision obscured or revealed. This is one of my highlights for the New Year's festival, as today the garden's admission is by donation. Also offered was a Chinese tea ceremony/demonstration that would serve tea in tiny cups for as long as I cared to enjoy them, he'd keep pouring. Excellent way to finish the afternoon.
A lion will approach a storefront with what can only be described as a swaggering butt wiggle in time to the clanging beat. It then stands directly in front of the door wriggling that cute fluffy body. It looks left, right, down, and finally up (it does the same at every door, you'd think they'd learn after the umpteenth time to look up first) to find with great expressive delight a head of lettuce and Lucky Red Packet suspended from the doorway like mistletoe. Occasionally someone from a balcony will lower it down on a long line, like they're fishing for lions. Shown here is a lion being hand-fed. Having spied the tempting lure the lion will leap quickly or sometimes carefully tower up on its hind legs to reach it gingerly with its soft mouth - sometimes you can see the hand reach out and grab it. It stands feet firmly planted and head lowered while the lion 'chews' the lettuce, then with a drum roll it triumphantly flings the shreds over the crowd. Lettuce-eating lions are very messy eaters. Then with great front-leg strides and a long neck it will bow deeply to the store, and some quick little steps back draws itself up to repeat twice more. Then the happy lion heads off to the next shop to do this all again. A highly aerobic workout for the fluffy-legged humans inside.
Enough of firecrackers, drums and gongs - I retreated to the Sun Yat-Sen Gardens along with everyone else it seemed; the narrow walkways funneled many visitors into a somewhat orderly flow two persons wide with strategically designed areas to congregate, an imposed chaos-into-order that forces one to slow down. Much like the di shui tiles that adorn the roof, no matter how light or hard it rains the water falls a single drop at a time, like a beaded curtain. I thought of the beauty in the singleness among the masses, and the small drops contributing to the greater overall effect. Designed with attention to detail and calculated to enhance flow and tranquility, around every corner an artful vision obscured or revealed. This is one of my highlights for the New Year's festival, as today the garden's admission is by donation. Also offered was a Chinese tea ceremony/demonstration that would serve tea in tiny cups for as long as I cared to enjoy them, he'd keep pouring. Excellent way to finish the afternoon.
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