Day IV : The Big Night

New Year's in Asia- so nice they do it twice! My first round of New Years was a reasonably good time at a Rave back in Korea, but it had nothing on Chinese New Year in China!!!

I woke up to what I thought was rain on the hotel window. Pat-pat-patter-pat. But then I noticed, still hazy in a state of semi-conscious waking, that the rain was coming at very short, irregular intervals. I got up to go have a look and realized it wasn't precipitation at all! It was pyrotechny!!!

All day long the static crackling of fireworks could be heard from every direction. Not a minute went by that there wasn't some small discharge being set off. That afternoon, as we went walking around the city, the smell of gunpowder and sulfur inscened the air. Bright red paper litter, remnants of ignited cracker chains, covered the streets and swirled around in the wind like fall leaves. Men in business suites and boys in knee-hole jeans alike were seen quickly retreating from freshly lit explosives. Scurrying away, chin down, shoulders up, fingers in their ears, eyes tightly squinched, and a wincing grin on their face. It amused me that they would set off a firecracker, only to try to completely block it out.

We were anxious to get in the game, so we visited out local fireworks stand, a folding table laden with a virtual feast of munitions. We loaded up with tanks, roman candles, M80s, whizzing swizzle sticks, fountains, cracker chains and one 3 1/2 foot Giant Rocket that promised 88 missiles. Giddy with the inevitable mischief that was to be celebrated that night, we ran back to our hotel with our arsenal. Sean carried the rocket like a firstborn child, cradling it in his arms with that look of love and pride, and thirst for destruction. As we strided across the marble foyer of the Grand Regency he blithely commented "I can't believe I'm walking into a 5-Star hotel with this thing" Evidently neither could the security guards, who at that very moment were racing across the lobby to intercept our ammunition. "No,no,no,no,no,no,no. Can't have here- outside!" We tried convincing them to allow us to store them behind the desk but I guess their armory was indisposed, so we had to think.

We decided to risk being put on the "axis of evil" and just hide our weapons of minor destruction. We agreed the best place would be back at our local Lennon Bar. We cased the scene and Hans Blix was nowhere to be found so we stashed as much as we could fit behind one of the large concrete statues of the Asian Dog-Guardian that stood on either side of the front door. Then high-fives were exchanged for another successful mission completed, and we ran back to the hotel to start off the evening.

From our windows on the 10th floor we could look out over the entire city and watch the madness escalate. It was a constant pulsing of lights and colors. Full blown giant fireworks burst all around, in between downtown skyscrapers and apartment complexes. Sparkling rockets arched over the streets and white shimmering fountains erupted on every corner. Whizzing and whistling, squealing and buzzing, cracking and popping were so pervasive it eventually all dulled into white noise. It was so different from the 4th of July, where a show is concentrated in one specific location and scheduled for perhaps an hour at dusk. There was no containing this display. It was a city-wide bombardment, how I would imagine a war-zone to be. Lights and flashes in all directions, noise and clatter from every which way. You couldn't help but be perceptually over stimulated.

We returned to our hidden stockpile, and after sharing a New Year's drink with Hao, allowed him to start the evening and do the honors of setting off the Giant 88 Rocket. Then we unloaded the rest of our fusillade in the street in front of the bar. The frosty air was thick with smoke and smelled if burnt paper. My stinging fingers struggled with the lighter, flicking it until my thumb was raw. The hissing glow of fuses set off adrenaline shivers in my hands and legs. The bright sparks left afterglow spots on my eyes. My nose running, my ears burning, my eyes watering, it was pure Joy. Not just excitement and happiness, but Joy, the kind 4 year olds get from blowing bubbles. Joy, where you are simply elated from tip to toe, with no practical or conscious reason. Watching my friends as we danced and leapt around like kids at Christmas, even though it hurt my cheeks and cracked my lips, I could help but grin, .

Who knew that celebrating another year going by could actually make you feel 20 years younger.