Aside from midterms and my week-long break of travel to Xi’an, October in China seems to be all about holidays, namely three of them: National Day (October 1st), the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival (October 3rd), and Halloween (October 31st). With the exception that the days are officially or unofficially dubbed “holidays,” these three celebrations don’t actually have so much in common, respectively marking a monumental political moment, a part of traditional Chinese culture, and an American holiday that is slowly more influential in China.
National Day officially marks the founding of the People’s Republic of China (the first ceremony at Tian’anmen Square was held in 1949) and the Communist Party’s rise to power. This year was not just any National Day, though, but rather the 60th anniversary of the founding of the PRC. In Chinese culture, 6 is considered to be an auspicious number because it is pronounced similarly to the words for sleek and fluid, and thus considered good for business, and also represents happiness (thank you wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Numbers_in_Chinese_culture), so not only was this year a pretty big anniversary for the country, but it was also a numerically lucky one. The National Day Celebration in Beijing included the perfectly coordinated performances of thousands of students wearing special colored-clothing to appear from bird’s eye view as rainbows, the country’s flag, the characters spelling “Happy National Day” and more, as well as Premier Hu Jintao’s motorcade, a military march displaying tanks, missiles, and guns, a parade of floats representing each province in the country, and a fly-over of over 50 aircraft. So with all the hype, you’d think I would seize the opportunity to bear witness to this celebration.
Unfortunately, National Day also marked a display of the government’s concern over security, with Tian’anmen Square completely sealed off to the public on October 1st. Unlike most of the country, which was enjoying a full eight-day holiday, ACC only offered us National Day itself off from classes; my teachers warned us not to venture far (it wasn’t hard to heed their words since almost all businesses were closed and most public transportation was shut down), and to bring our student IDs and passports with us when leaving the gates of our campus. But we still managed to enjoy the day; together with Carol, a close friend who also takes cooking class, the two of us whipped up (or more accurately, over a 3-hour period, struggled to prepare) a feast of Chinese dishes in the kitchen of her apartment while watching the CCTV broadcast of the Tian’anmen festivities, and invited friends to chow down. If it weren’t for Carol’s Chinese roommate who filled in the gaps when our brains collectively couldn’t seem to remember what spices to use, or how to make a certain sauce, it might have been a disaster, but we were pretty pleased with ourselves for re-creating relatively tasty versions of what we had learned in class!
As one of my high school teachers pointed out to me in an email, it is highly ironic in some ways that China, a country with a civilization of over 5,000 years of history, would celebrate a 60-year anniversary. But to me, the National Day celebration was a telling marker of where the attitudes of China’s people and government stand today. As an increasingly important international player, China’s 2008 Beijing Olympics were said by many to be the country’s coming-out party. I was lucky enough to experience the country during August 2008, and the celebration then was, of course, clearly geared towards an international audience, emphasizing China’s modernity and great achievements, from Beijing’s blue-sky weather and newest architecture to earning the most gold medals of any country in the world. The National Day celebrations, in stark contrast, were catered to the tastes of China’s officials and its own people, rather than an international audience. My own feeling when watching the broadcast on CCTV was that everything was so perfect that it was almost surreal; I sat in anticipation of someone’s mistake, maybe a step out of sync, a stumble, a turn in the wrong direction, a flinch or a sneeze. Maybe it’s just that CCTV would never broadcast a mistake like that anyway, but I never saw one. To me, National Day displayed just how strong China is, in terms of measurable military might, in terms of its people’s will to work together for the “greater good,” or in this case, in the name of national pride, but also in terms of the government’s ability to manipulate its resources to conform to its desires (they used cloud seeding to ensure a blue-sky day, grounded the city’s pigeons by caging them, and that’s just the beginning…).
Before I had begun to wrap my brain around National Day, I found myself at my host family’s home later that week on Saturday night, for the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival, which is a time to gather family together, admire the bright, full moon, and eat moon cakes (round just like their namesake, filled with sweet red bean paste and other delicious things). My host family’s daughter was actually one of the students who was lucky enough to participate in the National Day celebrations earlier that week; she wore an orange uniform and was part of the massive rainbow of people in the Tian’anmen Square celebration. Out of curiosity, I asked her when she had to leave home to get to Tian’anmen for the big day. 3am, she said. 3 am. I had a huge flashback moment to Obama’s inauguration in January 2009, which I enthusiastically attended with a big group of friends from Georgetown. We rolled out of bed at 3am, dressed in about 40 million layers, and spent the next twelve hours walking from campus to the National Mall, bearing witness to history, and walking back. Needless to say I was totally exhausted and had a horrible cold afterward, but to me it was completely, totally worth it. It is a story that I will tell my children and my children’s children. I think you could say the same of my host sister about National Day.
But back to the Mid-Autumn Festival: My roommate and my host family’s other student accompanied me that Saturday night. I think we were surprised, but happily pleased to find, upon arrival at their third floor apartment, that the entire family was pajama and slipper-clad. I’m still not sure if this is their normal Saturday night routine or a special part of the Mid-Autumn festival (since I usually visit my family for lunch or the afternoon), but nevertheless, part of me wished that I had worn my pajamas too, even if I might have gotten some weird stares on the bus ride over. We ate dinner together, which included my host mom’s three different kinds of delicious homemade dumplings, and then settled into the couch for a bit of moon cake tasting and conversation. I was happy to have an excuse to take life a little slower and enjoy simple conversation and delicious food, rather than scurrying to balance class, the gym, homework, friends, sightseeing, and maybe every once in a while a wink of sleep.
Lately, though, a holiday a little closer to home has been on my mind: Halloween. In China, most people fundamentally don’t celebrate Halloween, and some have never even heard of it, even though Christmas and Valentine’s Day are pretty popular. But when I arrived at the gym one day to find the lobby decked out with a giant spider web, white ghosts hanging from the ceiling, pumpkin garlands, witches, skeletons, and “Happy Halloween” banners, I immediately started to get into the spirit. I have the chance to help ACC plan its annual Halloween shindig, so today I spent an exhausting 7 hours shopping with friends for decorations and costumes (as well as some new fall and winter weather clothes). It probably wouldn’t have taken us quite so long, except for the fact that the market next to the Beijing Zoo, which is notoriously cheap, is also notoriously crowded on weekends. I spent most of the afternoon using my backpack as a bumper guard as I barreled down hallways and hallways of clothing, shoes, accessories, and much more. Ironically, the funniest, but also most frustrating part of the trip, was that as we came across elements of our respective costumes that were almost perfect but not quite, we promised ourselves that we’d come back to that specific stall if we found nothing better, and of course, we began to discover that there was no possible way to track down the spots where we had already looked. So we literally ran in circles, through crowds and crowds of people. Needless to say, today I didn’t make it to the gym.
I hope that our Halloween celebration will ultimately be worth all the crazy shopping efforts, but regardless, I am happy to have a chance to share a slice of American culture with China. In addition to inviting all students on our program to take part, our student council is also inviting our teachers (all of whom are native Chinese) to share in the apple-bobbing, pumpkin-carving, and candy-consuming fun. Hopefully they’ll decide to come, and maybe even wear costumes themselves.
To me, October’s three very different holidays represent three very different aspects of China that I’ve been able to experience and consider while in Beijing: the Communist Party’s unique role in shaping the country, the importance of long-standing Chinese cultural traditions, and foreign influence on China. All three elements are closely related to how one of the oldest civilizations in the world has become a very modernized society, and how I, as a study abroad student, both feel welcomed by this country, and yet am still keenly aware of my status as an outsider.
