July 5, 2000 Jane Zhang
Spring Festival
In Chinese culture, Spring Festival is the most significant holiday in one year. It symbolizes the start of a new spring and is celebrated in the expectation of a victorious harvest in the coming fall. People usually have a two-week winter break for it across China. However, as time passes by, the cheerfulness of Spring Festival seems to be fading for me. Even this year, when Chinese Canadians were warmly welcoming the arrival of the mysterious Year of the Dragon, I couldn't sense a bit of the Dragon's existence.
The ecstasy from Spring Festival is a piece of vague memory frozen in my childhood. At that time, the blossoms of different kinds of fireworks always lit up all kids' eyes. Either the clamorous crowd who were hanging around busily selecting goods for the New Year, or a special shaped dumpling with a coin crammed in, would make a child believe that life was made up of honey and luck. I thought I was the happiest person in the world each year when I got a red bag with 5 or 10 yuan of money in it from my grandparents. But the strong sense of brightness never last long as soon as kids turned to teens.
The pressure from study gradually replaced the joyfulness during Spring Festival for a student. Hoping to get in a better university, millions of teens reluctantly attend schools only two or three days after Chinese New Year's Day. No parties, no fireworks (they were banned in cities due to the risks of fire or explosion), no vacations, only the dusts of chalk were left dancing in the strips of sun light shining through the windows of classrooms. Snow was occasional but any game with the rare thing at school was prohibited because it wasted students' valuable time. For me the sky was always grim since my grandpa passed away from cancer in one of the worst Spring Festivals ever. Moreover, though relatives still gathered to have a big dinner each year, the topics they focused on talking about were no longer successful harvests or chances to earn a better life. They began to lose jobs. So teens' gifts were merely ignored by parents moaning "We'll buy you a better one next year when we get enough money, ok?" As a teen, my Spring Festival in China was bitter and boring.
I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity to witness another style of Spring Festival in a western country Canada. Year of the Dragon is of special meaning to Chinese, as they believe that they are successors of the Dragon. People in Toronto celebrated through traditional dragon dances and parades, and tried to keep most of the customs including sending red bags and having dumplings. Nevertheless, Spring Festival is nearly tasteless for me. My enthusiasm to celebrate a Chinese holiday abroad has died away, because of lots of new worries that are obsessing our family and myself. Besides, it makes no difference in school whether there is any Spring Festival or not. The glamorous colours of Chinese New Year have run off mostly, especially for those newcomers who are struggling to figure out a new way to make a living.
Spring Festival is still coming year after year, but I can't feel it around me along with the increase of my age. I realize that a festival can be exciting only when the people supposed to celebrate it have the mood to do so. The root of such a mood digs deep into the society behind the festival, which is whether or not prosperous and powerfully supporting it.