By Walter Hesford | FāVS News Columnist
The Lunar New Year in China is all about going home. At least it was in 1990 when we joined millions of migrating Chinese returning by bus and train to their home villages or cities.
My wife and I were not returning but traveling on a slow-moving train from Wuhan, where we were teaching in central China, up to Harbin in the far north near Inner Mongolia.
We had been invited there by Chinese friends who had lived with us when they were Visiting Scholars at the University of Idaho.
The Chinese go home to visit family and to engage in ancient traditions, in spite of being — or maybe because they are not — approved of by the Communist Party.
One such tradition we witnessed in Harbin was creating little paper models of modern appliances you might want your ancestors to enjoy in the afterlife, then burning these models in a bonfire in the alley outside your home. Though it was way below zero, we saw groups of people surrounding bonfires up and down the alley burning paper refrigerators, TVs, microwaves and cars.
Did people really believe that these modern conveniences would reach their ancestors through the ascending smoke? Maybe some did, but probably many just thought this tradition brought them closer to their loved ones who had passed.
To honor one’s ancestors, perhaps to worship and consult them, seems to be one of the oldest human instincts and a foundation of religion.
Around these bonfires the Chinese in Harbin lit strings of firecrackers, filling the air with crackles and pops and the smell of gunpowder (a Chinese invention of course). According to tradition, this warded off evil demons.
The Communist Party might put on a showy display of fireworks broadcast on TV from Beijing, but the real work of the Lunar New Year’s first night was done through those bonfires and strings of firecrackers.
This real work is also fun, confirming old ties and building community. So do other events during the Lunar New Year Festival, which lasts 15 days, beginning with a new moon and ending with a full moon. The festival’s length allows people to travel long distances home and back to where they now live.
My wife and I returned to Wuhan toward the end of the festival and participated in a lantern parade around our compound honoring the full moon.
I’m waxing nostalgic for this New Year’s Festival as I begin a personal New Year. I’m finishing this column on Feb. 12, the day I turn 80, surely a time when one looks back more than forward.
I began the day as I do most, reading a passage in Thoreau’s journal. I discovered that on the frigid morning of Feb. 12, 1857, a caterpillar frozen stiff began to thaw and crawl a few minutes after Thoreau put it on the fireplace mantel.
Maybe there is some thawing I also can look forward to.
I’m trying to remember the Gettysburg Address, which is my version of going home. As a kid, in honor of the great president whose birthday I shared, I would recite it at birthday parties to enthralled friends and family while my older brother played “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” on his trumpet.
My mother wanted to call me Abe, but my father vetoed the idea. I can still conjure the “Four Score” opening and the close that promotes the wild idea that government should be of, by, and for the people. Is our current tyrant listening?
According to Chinese tradition I have reached “the age of great elderliness” and should be toasted at a banquet. Instead, my wife and I will have a quiet meal at a favorite restaurant and toast each other. The Chinese advise eating long noodles to ensure future longevity. I’ll see if there’s some lengthy pasta on the menu.
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A delightful column, Walter. Happy 80th. I will turn 82 on St. Patty’s day.