celebrando el año nuevo chino

Quedaban pocas horas del año de la rata en el calendario lunar. Mientras que una gran parte del mundo celebró el año nuevo hace más que 4 semanas, aquellos que no lo hicieron, muchos en Asia del Este, especialmente en China, celebraron el año del Buey el lunes pasado. Cada año promete prosperidad (por los menos para algunos), felicidad y fortuna según las antiguas predicciones de los sabios que vigilaban los templos Taoistas ocultos en las montañas vertiginosas de China. Un feriado singular, el año nuevo chino es una celebración de escala y de extensión sin comparación. El mandato del gobierno de dos semanas enteras de vacación y también la suspensión de la producción es única en su origen. Que magnánimo del gobierno de aquella raza tan laboriosa y diligente que no permite pero demanda, si, lo demanda este descanso de diez días del ámbito más exigente, lo que se llama el trabajo.

Considerado un pueblo muy pragmático y realista, los chinos son también muy supersticiosos, especialmente las generaciones nacidas antes de la revolución. La practica de colocar el carácter Fu (fortuna) volteada en la puerta es inevitable para aquellos que quieren ser benditos con la buena suerte, prosperidad y fortuna pero esa costumbre milenaria proviene de una historia, poco conocida, de la historia de una bestia llamada Nian (año). Hace muchos años en que el año nuevo, en vez de ser celebrado, era temido. El pueblo esperaba con miedo en las vísperas del año nuevo mientras que el espantoso y hambriento monstruo con sed de sangre descendió a las aldeas y pueblos devorando la cotizada cosecha y los amados niños en el primer día del año nuevo. Tierras fueron destruidas y familias hicieron velas en caso de la perdida de sus pequeños. Uno de esos años, la gente del pueblo llamó una reunión comunal y durante el transcurso de la reunión, algunos recordaron la manera de como complacer a los antepasados con ofertas de comida. Aquella noche, ellos se pusieron de acuerdo en la ejecución del plan. Ese año cuando Nian llegó a la cuidad, afuera de las puertas de todas las casas estaba puesto un plato de ofrendas. Ese año ni un niño fue perdido, ni un campo destruido; el pueblo se regocijó por su victoria contra la bestia Nian. Durante ese tiempo, la población descubrió fortuitamente que Nian temía el color rojo porque se mantenía una distancia de los niños vestidos de rojo. El descubrimiento brillante engendró la costumbre de colocar letreros y linternas rojas afuera de las puertas principales de las casas y también la tradición de vestir los niños con ropa nueva de color rojo.

Hoy en día, la mayoría de chinos no son religiosos ni gente que teme a dios, pero el año nuevo tiene un espacio sagrado en la sociedad, en la familia y en el corazón. Al contrario de las celebraciones occidentales del año nuevo con la embriaguez y las fiestas extravagantes en locales exclusivos, juntándose alrededor de puntos de espectáculo (como en Nueva York, Las Vegas, o la playa Asia) o emborrachándose con cerveza infinita, los chinos tienen una manera muy diferente, y de una manera, mas sensible, de celebrar. Para aquellos que migran a las ciudades lejanas en la búsqueda de fortuna o sobrevivencia, el año nuevo destaca como aquel tiempo raro en que uno puede regresar a la casa, a la tierra amada y tierna donde los padres envejecen mientras que los niños crecen, y donde todos los están esperando. No importan las distancias, las migraciones extensivas que ocurren antes del año nuevo son solamente un fragmento de la historia.

A veces en el mes de enero, a veces en febrero, el año nuevo siempre cae en los meses más helados y tétricos en la mayoría de China. Antes de su ascendencia a la plataforma del mundo, en China había mucha pobreza y tecnología muy limitada, inclusive tecnología para calentar las casas suficientemente sin la necesitad de ponerse capas y capas de ropa y abrigos para mantener el calor. Hasta ahora, eso no ha cambiando mucho en el sur donde la calefacción es una extravagancia y restaurantes operan con unidades solitarias de maquinas que funcionan como calefacción y aire-acondicionado al mismo tiempo, emitiendo calor justo para calentar a los que están de tres metros de su radio. Si alguna vez has visto una película china antigua donde los residentes de Beijing se juntan alrededor de un calentador de carbón en el medio del invierno, imagínate eso solamente con una maquina que emita un aire tibio en lugar del calentador rudimentario, así es una gran parte del sur de China hoy en día.

Valiente o cobarde, fuerte o débil, todos los que tienen un lugar llamado el hogar y padres vivos hacen la jornada llena de óbices para reunir con la familia para esos preciosos primeros días del año nuevo. En el medio del invierno, la reunión de la familia que incluye padres, abuelos, hermanos, tíos, primos e hijos, calienta el hogar, modesto o lujoso, nuevo o viejo. Al llegar al hogar, el cariño de la familia calienta los cuerpos temblando del impacto del viento helado a la piel expuesta; desde los dedos cubiertos con medias y guantes hasta las vísceras, invisible al ojo desnudo, hasta los huesos y finalmente al corazón; el amor de la familia nos penetra por completo y nos alienta.

La familia con el hijo o hija, madre o padre lejano o ausente por cualquier razón es una familia incompleta, una que celebrará con buen animo para recibir el año nuevo, pero todo debajo de la apariencia de la felicidad; siempre hay un especie de dolor en el corazón recordando al hermano, hermana, hija o hijo cuya presencia les hace falta y es lamentada en privado, pero nunca abiertamente para no perturbar la atmosfera festiva y alegre del año nuevo.

En comunidades chinas en el extranjero hay reuniones que recrea, lo mejor posible, las características acogedoras, familiares y cariñosas de las reuniones que transcurren durante ese tiempo. Aquí en Lima en las vísperas del año nuevo, las familias fragmentadas comparten con sus amigos chinos al igual que peruanos. Todos se sientan alrededor de una mesa redonda, formando un círculo que significa las cualidades de la familia: completo y fuerte como un anillo que no tiene comienzo ni fin. La mesa esta repleta de comida casera, como una cacerola de tofu y champiñones, y con delicadezas como la suculenta sopa de aleta de tiburón, mientras que la televisión transmite el programa especial celebrando la festividad con personajes conocidos cantando canciones en honor de la patria, bailes que muestran orgullosamente la riqueza étnica y cultural de china y teatro cómico con los mejores en comedia. El espectacular y muy anticipado programa maratón esta difundido mundialmente y para los que están lejos de su patria, ese programa en ese día reúnen aquellos con el anhelo de estar en su tierra amada y lejana, en el hogar donde les esperara la familia para el año nuevo.

Celebrating Chinese New Year

(Proximamente en español)

Only a few hours remain on the Chinese lunar calendar in this year of the Rat. While much of the world celebrated the New Year more than 3 weeks ago, many of those who hadn’t, many of those in East Asia, especially in China, will celebrate the forthcoming year of the Ox. Each year promises prosperity (at least for some) as well as happiness and fortune according to the old augers made by the sages that guarded Taoist temples hidden away high in the vertiginous mountains of China. Unarguably the most important national holiday, New Year in China is a celebration of unparalleled scale and scope. The government mandate of two entire weeks of vacation as well as a large-scale suspension of production is unique in its origin. How magnanimous of the government of such an industrious and indefatigable people to not only permit but to demand a 10-day hiatus from that ever-so exigent duty, namely, work.

Considered extremely pragmatic and realistic, the Chinese are also deeply superstitious, especially the generations born pre-revolution. Posting an upside-down Fu (fortune) character on the entrance door of the home is de rigueur for those wishing to be blessed by good luck, prosperity and fortune but this age old practice stems from a little-known story of the beast called Nian (year). Before New Year was celebrated, it was a much feared time of the year. People awaited in fear on the eve of the New Year as the horrific, ravenous and blood-thirsty beast, Nian, descended upon villages and cities devouring highly-prized crop and beloved children of the villagers on the first day of New Year. Lands were devastated and families entered in mourning for the loss of their little ones. One year, villagers called a town meeting and recalling the offering made to dead ancestors, they planned to place offerings outside their door in hopes that Nian would be satiated by the offerings of food rather than devour crops and children. That year, the city rejoiced for their triumphant plan, not a child was lost nor a field destroyed. Concurrently, villagers made the fortuitous discovery that Nian feared the color red and kept a distance from children in red clothes. The brilliant discovery begot the tradition of posting red banners and hanging red lanterns outside houses and dressing children in new red clothes.

The majority of Chinese today is not by any means religious nor a god-fearing people, but New Year holds a sacred place in society, in family, and even in the heart. Contrary to common western ways of celebration, exorbitant parties in exclusive venues, huddling around points of spectacle (NYC, Las Vegas) or getting plastered by an endless queue of alcohol, the Chinese have a very different and more sensible way of celebrating. For those that migrate to far away cities in search of riches or survival, New Years is the one rare time during the year in which one can afford to go back home, to their hometown where parents are growing old as children as growing up. No matter how far, or near, the extensive migrations that transpire in anticipation of New Year is only a fragment of the story.

Whether it lands in the month of January or February, the Chinese New Year happens in the coldest months of winter in most parts of China. Before the so called Era of China, termed by economists predicting China’s present incurrence into the world’s premier nation, there was much poverty and very limited technology, even simple technology to keep houses sufficiently warm without residents having the need to pile on thermal underwear and overcoats. Even now, that hasn’t changed much in the south where heat is still an anomaly and restaurants operate with stand-alone units of machines that double as heaters and air-conditioners emitting just enough heat for those within three meters of its radius. So if you’ve ever seen an old Chinese movie where Beijing residents huddle around a coal heater in the dead of winter, well picture that but with a lukewarm air blowing machine in place of the rudimentary coal heater, that’s much of southern China today.

Brave or cowardly, strong or weak, all those that have a place called home and parents still living must make the perilous journey to reunite with the family for those precious first days of New Year. In the dead of winter, the gathering of the family (the extended family of course) warms the home, whether modest or extravagant, old or new, and warms the shivering body from the freezing-wind assaulted exposed skin to the tightly-bundled and boot-covered toes to the innards, invisible to the naked eye, down to the bones and finally to the heart; the love of family penetrates and warms us through.

The family with a son or daughter, father or mother, abroad or absent due to any reason is a family incomplete, one that will celebrate in good cheer welcoming in the year, but under the guise of happiness, there is always that pulling at the heart reminding everyone of that sister, brother, daughter, son, whose presence is missed and lamented in private, but never openly so not to spoil the festive and jolly mood of New Year.

In Chinese communities abroad, gatherings are held that recreate as best as possible that coziness, familiarity and warmth so characteristic of family gatherings during this time. Here in Lima on the eve of New Years, fragmented families along with their Chinese as well as Peruvians friends, sat around tables replete with comforting home-styled cooking, like tofu and mushroom casserole, along with delicacies like shark’s fin soup, all the time while the TV blasted the annual show of famous Chinese personalities singing songs praising the homeland, or showcasing dances of ethnic tribes and some of the best comedians in the country in comic theatre. The spectacular and eagerly-anticipated marathon show reaches Chinese all around the world and for those away from the motherland, brings together those Chinese hearts who long to be home for New Year.

College (Part II-A First & Singular Friendship)

College: that mythical place and time in which one graduates from adolescence to well-deserved recognition into adulthood is an illuminating, sobering, empowering, and deeply transformative period. The grounds in which one gets broken in with impassioned idealism or irremediable cynicism, college opens up a world of virgin territories that demands a close-up examination of the world that surrounds us and the often elusive world inside us. More than just the intellectual gain that one is certain to undergo, there is inevitably profound personal realization and growth that takes place. Sitting in philosophy class entranced by the professor’s erudite discourse incites enlightening intellectualizing while sitting next to your college soul-mate conversing and sharing the entirety of such experiences ignites an emotional wildfire that is unlikely to burn out. Finding and discovering in college someone that shares our most deeply-held ideals and sentiments, someone that dispels the illusion of eternal solitude, someone that challenges the mind and nurtures the heart is a rare and fortunate event, a sort of epiphany that I confess to have experienced.

It took us both by surprise. In the mist of forging that solitary and aloof attitude, I found your easy laugh and candid camaraderie disarming. Exploring the freshness and novelty of college that first year and searching for my place in it, I found you; we lived and shared nearly every moment of that first year. Whether they were euphoric, devastating, hilarious, or tear-jerking, those intimate and sometimes very public moments infused those months of late-night studying and burgeoning adulthood with laughter that never ceased, support that never wavered and intuitive understanding that is more than rare; although raised states away, we were what you would call, fruits from the same tree.

In that first chance encounter in the car, it was already evident the natural affinity between you and me. Friendship comes in many forms but I have noticed a tendency for immediate bonds to grow organically, becoming firm and deep bonds. How quickly we discovered an unusually fluid rapport. Your company from that first day became addictive, not in a harmful sense; more like the way a plant moves towards sunlight whenever it’s within reach, and when there’s no sunlight, the plant yearns for its return and once the sun reveals itself again, the plant eagerly and enthusiastically bathes in the sun’s rays. Your friendship was sunlight for me: it nurtured and fortified me; it helped me to grow. Occasionally, our friendship took the backseat while the excitement of another kind of love, romantic love, took the front seat, but with time it irrefutably became obvious that our friendship was irrevocably irreplaceable.

Adventures and misadventures: we experienced them all and often times, together. There were times when we stayed up all night, working, conversing, laughing or crying, like that night when I found you sitting in the lonely dorm corridor, teary-eyed and broken-winged; that was a misadventure but not entirely so. Not sure what it is that I do, or maybe it’s what you do, but I’m funnier around you and cheering you up, cheers me up. So that night, a casualty of romance turned into a bittersweet farewell to memories that concluded with the both of us sound asleep in your dorm room (which inexplicably I always preferred to mine) as dawn began to break. Our friendship helped us ease through just about any unwelcomed changes and withstand unforeseen storms; it has left an ineluctable imprint upon me that resists time, rather it grows longer roots and buries itself deeper in me with time.

We often wondered at the myriad of surprises in life, some delightful, and others less so. It’s like star-gazing and connecting the twinkling points in any random formation with some stars emitting dazzling illumination, others only dim hope and others still, just a momentary shimmer destined to vanish for eternity. Our friendship shined an immeasurably brilliant light into my heart and into my life; its birth had the intensity of a shooting star but its constancy and interminability has the transcendence of an ever-shining sun, and it will stay with me for always.

College (and what comes after)

My first little cousin, whose rotund physique and upturned lips (when angry) won the adoration of restaurant waitresses and hotel attendants, has transformed from a stout bamboo shoot to a lean bamboo stalk, green and still growing. It only seems adequate and responsible that I should give my best advice and share my college experience in hopes that he will grow profoundly in all aspects during those four years of his life soon to come: that he will have challenging, perturbing, inspiring, life-changing experiences that push the boundaries of his intellect, strengthen and forge his character and show him the transcendence of college lessons and friendships.

Only two years have passed since I graduated but sometimes it feels so long ago that I am compelled to reflect upon those unforgettable years whose moments I continue to relive.

Skepticism and scorn were my visceral reactions when long-ago graduates half-declared and half-warned that “the college years are the best four years of your life.” There may exist many valid roots to this claim but what overshadows is the free-reign granted, for almost all, for the first time in their life. Some may take it as partaking in bacchanalian parties most of the week or sleeping at dawn after late night dinners of pizza or never showing up to classes before 1pm. Maybe for some it’s the best four years because the scholarly life is one of intellectualizing, of time for leisure, camaraderie and discovery while the working life isn’t a far call from the monotonous and soul sucking life of Peter in that iconic blockbuster Office Space. So those four years sandwiched between the confused angst of adolescence, near adult responsibility with freedom lagging behind and working 11 months a year, 40 hours a week, with full adult responsibility along with freedom in accordance does indeed make college a sweet treat, something like an Oreo cookie where you want to lick up all that cream, and just maybe, opt to leave the outer cookie half-eaten or untouched.

That hackneyed saying could be true, but then that would be immensely discouraging to the point of depressing for graduates giving reason for any rational being to prolong their college period for as long as possible. Some astute minds arrived at that conclusion and happily extended their collegiate stay but for others, the outside world entices and lures them with much but above all, a means to use their knowledge and wits to free them from a) burdensome college payments and debts and b) weekends and evenings spent in self-imposed isolation studying for the highly anticipated econ/bio/physics (fill in the blank) exam. But an optimist would extend that saying to “the college years are the best four years of life up to that point in your life”, because there is the unwavering hope and stubborn expectation that what comes after will be even better, if not what comes immediately after than the sum of it all, especially in retrospect and in the long-run.

Ebullient freshmen armed with insatiable curiosity and a hint of uncertainty after four years become all-knowing, self-assured and proud (or relieved) graduates. The transformation that takes place is dramatic (what happens in those sacred years, I will write about another day very soon). While all are made to believe that the outside world is awaiting them for its tight and promise-filled embrace, not all have the fortune of that secure and supportive embrace; some are like dust in the wind, allowing themselves to be swept off into any interesting or if not interesting, at least financially-lucrative direction.

If college didn’t create in me that insatiable hunger for seeking new horizons and that ardent and obstinate idealism for a better tomorrow for the world at-large, then it propelled and added fuel to it. What comes after those four years is just as interesting, just as surprising, just as delectable and even more so but of course as anything else, that depends greatly on the will of the individual.