The Battle's Won

My ears have a slight constant hum, reminiscent vibrations from last night’s festivities, a night where the sky seemed to rain sparks and fire. Exploding candles and rockets bounced off the courtyard walls, tiny hands stuck out into the cold from sliding windows holding glowing sticks of wonder as the energy throughout the town seemed to run through your body with each blast, each breath, each bang. I felt an entire country watching with me as I marveled in the fireworks display. Although an outsider, an observer, I was a part of the glowing night. A lazy day on my couch turned into a blood boiling night of intensity, just by being here; it is as if I drank the spirit of celebration, with each explosion my heart pounded harder and my body warmed and my dizzied head tried to steady itself, in vain.

Of course like all matter of drinkable spirits comes the inevitable crash and burn. Today although not having consumed any tangible alcohol I feel as if I spent the night pounding shots and dancing to the vibrating speakers from the disco’s walls. The discarded paper shells littering the ground outside are comparable to empty beer bottles that cover the living room floor after a late night of drinking, the smell of sulfur in the air is like the stale dry aroma of an empty bar after a night of merriment. I feel as if I have walked through a battle field the morning after, where bright light and sound had fought to triumph over the dark and silent night.

All over the country today those families that burned and cheered through the night will join together to feast. Generations will gather around a table, in a kitchen or in a living room. They will enjoy the warmth that family brings on this cold Sunday. I imagine televisions across the nation will be tuned to that classic tale of the Monkey King.

Not having a family home to go to I find comfort in the home I have created for myself in this foreign country. Glad to have been welcomed into the night’s festivities I feel a slight emptiness today. No where to go, no one to see. My kitchen will not be filled with the busied hands nor will my living room fill with sweet and savory aromas; my walls will not hear stories or laughter, we will stare at each other blankly but contented.

The cold snowy streets are lined with hollow empty stores. Where there are usually kind inquisitive faces standing at doors or sitting in shops, there are now unreceptive gates of locked metal. There is peacefulness in a city of constant commotion. There are fewer buses and taxis bounding around. The souls out on the streets today are hurried on towards their destinations, their warm gatherings.

I appreciate the gatherings behind the doors and the windows. I look at the buildings and am comforted by the families participating in the tradition. There are not many days where the billions of people in this country can all be counted on to think or do the same as their neighbors, except for today. From the warm southern country to the frozen northern towns the Chinese are all united on this day. In the west today will be Valentine’s Day, an overtly commercialized day for expressions of love. In the east today is truly a day for love and togetherness, appreciation and gratitude for today is February 14 New Years Day.