Overseas Briefing Party like an animal in the Year of the Pig

Author: Scott Greene

It's 6 a.m. on Sunday, and the closed glass doors leading to the balcony just off my second floor room can do little to mute the constant explosions outside my dorm. Unable to sleep, I restlessly absorb the cacophony around me, each boom followed by a flash of red and yellow that soon disappears into the dusk sky.

Such a bombardment has served as my wakeup call for the past two weeks. I am not, however, in a war zone. While people in certain areas of the world know of no other start to their day, my morning explosions come in the form of a fireworks celebration that puts our Fourth of July to shame: the Chinese Spring Festival (Chun Jie).

Better known to westerners (wai guo ren) as Chinese New Year, Chun Jie is much more than the dragon dances and little red envelopes of money that we so often hear about. The dragon dances and little red envelopes seem to take a backseat to the fireworks and inordinate amount of booze and food that is consumed to celebrate the abundance of success and luck each person hopes to attain in the New Year.

This year is marked as the Year of the Pig in the 12-year Chinese zodiac cycle - being born in 1986, I am a Tiger. Though probably no different than any other past Spring Festival, it seemed as though all 1.3 billion of China's citizens flocked to the nearest Carrefour or Wal-Mart (yes, they have Wal-Mart here in China) to stock up on MSG, dumplings, shrimp, pork, chicken feet, cow stomach and sharks' fin soup. Liquor is also a necessity, with the staples Bai Jiu and Mao Tai precious commodities.

Thus, the scene inside these megastores is unreal. Picture Black Friday, with three or four times the intensity, every day for over a week, and you still will not be close to envisioning the madness that ensues. I went into the Wal-Mart in Nanjing to buy snacks and drinks to get me through a rainy night in my hotel room, and made it out of the store in no less than an hour.

China has over 100 cities with at least one million people, including Nanjing. That day, it seemed like all 6 million Nanjing residents had crammed themselves into the Wal-Mart, making the three-story megastore (which would put a stateside Wal-Mart Superstore or Target Greatland to shame) seem about as small as MiddExpress.

Still, the Chinese Spring Festival will remain one of the most awe-inspiring festivals I've ever seen. After the people clear out the Carrefour and Wal-Mart, they then clear out of town. During the peak of the fifteen-day food fest, most cities shut down as seas of migrant workers head home to the countryside to celebrate the New Year with their families. Shops close and streets empty, but one thing still remains: the bombardment of fireworks from dawn until dusk, detonating with a deafening determination to disrupt my desire to sleep.