Chinese New Year

 

I think it's been a whole 24 hours since I last heard a firework.  They were so frequent and so loud and so a part of our life for the past two weeks, that I didn't really notice them any longer until they stopped.  BUT, I understand they will come back this Sunday for one final bang -- the 15th day of the lunar month, the Lantern Festival.

New Year's Eve was Saturday, February 9th.  We flipped on the CCTV five-hour New Year's Eve extravaganza, gathered some snacks, and got ready for some fireworks.  With hours of acrobats, skits, kung fu performances, Celine Dion, and Psy on in the background, we watched out the window as the fireworks began at sundown.  Slow at first, they got closer and louder.  And then closer.  And louder.  I was impressed.  Then midnight drew near.  So did the fireworks.  So close in fact, that we heard and saw shrapnel bounce off our windows.  We have an amazing video on Facebook, but we have trouble posting big files on blogspot.  It involves a lot of gasping and swearing in the background as we watched our security guards carry refrigerator-sized boxes of explosives to the street at the base of our building.  Five boxes at a time.  Again and again until there were 35-40 charred boxes on the street.  More fireworks on our block than our state capitol of Montpelier uses during its Fourth of July celebration.  Then firecrackers in rolls the size of truck tires. 

And this was just on our block.  Similar size explosions were taking place two blocks over in every direction.  They finally stopped around 1am.  They started up again at 6am.  The air was thick.  We saw ash fall from the sky.

That spike is from the fireworks.  Cough.  Cough.

 

Fireworks for sale outside our local grocery store.

Friend me on Facebook for the video :). 

Cleaning up the firework detritus.

We celebrated the New Year with haircuts...

...and dumplings.

A few days later we were schooled by the dumpling master.

My friend Ellen's father-in-law from Northern China.  He's been making dumplings his whole life.

In Northern China, they boil dumplings.  They don't steam them.

We were excited.  We may have eaten many.