Global Home: Red underwear all year round - Happy Chinese New Year (year of the dog)

One of the things I find most refreshing is how easy mainland Chinese converse with each other, bodily functions and personal annual incomes seem to be very popular topics for a first time 'get to know each other' conversation. For instance, since the sole purpose of this visit was to spend Chinese new year with my grandmother and mother, the topic of the year of the dog was inevitably brought up. What I didn't expect was a conversation with my mother's brand new driver on what color underwear I was (we were) going to wear this upcoming new year. As it turned out, both of us were born in the year of the dog, and the Chinese believe that every 12 years (a complete cycle of the zodiac), when your own sign comes back again, it is advised to either wear a red string around your ankle, or wear red underwear throughout that particular year. So there I was, discussing with a perfect stranger what we were going to wear as our most private and intimate undergarment for the year.

Now, it has been over 24 years since I last spent a lunar new year in Asia, although I have very fond memories of endless sweets and red envelopes stuffed with money, I hadn't the slightest idea what it's like to celebrate this very important holiday in Shanghai. Sure, there were firecrackers and noisy streets, but to what extent the Shanghainese go out of their way to welcome the new year was nothing I had expected.
my mother's dining area

In a very precocious city of growing capitalism, we seldom find stores closed before 10 or 11 at night, not to mention the all day rush hour on the public transportation systems. However, by 6pm on new year's eve (Jan 28, this year), we were pretty much left in a sorry company on the metro, alone with a handful of other foreigners, obviously bewildered at the oddity of stores closing in the next few days, thus carrying bags of groceries home to eat alone. My mother has 'ordered' us to be home by a certain time in order to meet up with several friends of hers and go out to celebrate the true Chinese way: stuff ourselves silly in a restaurant until nobody can move. I was delighted to find the company amusing, a Spanish woman by the name of Ana, who was a designer from a French designer school, currently living in Shanghai, and a customer/friend/neighbor, who rides horses every other week and is a Kendo expert, a very successful young man in his own right, and his cute little 14 year old niece, Fiona, visiting from Taiwan.

We were invited to go and watch the fireworks from Daniel's bachelor pad on the 25th floor. It's true, he does have the best view, there were fireworks throughout the entire city. Among the high rises in the Shanghai version of the Gothem City, exploding rubies, emeralds and gems of all colors flash through at an array of speeds, at times, simultaneously exploding like liquid crystals falling from heaven, and others, one flash of a single color shoots through the musky sky like lightening, with accuracy and elegance. The sound of firecrackers and fireworks also fluctuated accordingly, stereo booming of the 'explosions', at times like thunder, others sounding more like colorful balloons popping in the distance. The funny thing was, when looking down from the balcony that evening, the streets were completely deserted by both people and cars, it was as if some mysterious transformation took place and the citizens of Shanghai had suddenly became shining flashes of colors in the sky, and the loud noises were their adopted new voices celebrating the upcoming year, temporarily holding your breath and attention, even if it was just for a split second, each flash of color was precious, unique, momentary and unsustainable.