Spring Festival: When China turns red and brighter

The first to go were the street-food stalls. Suddenly, one morning, my favourite jianbing lady and the guy on the corner who sells the best pork-and-chive dumplings in town were nowhere to be found. Soon, the smaller grocery shops began putting up their shutters, then the bigger stores, followed by restaurants and cafes. It started getting harder and harder to find a cab, the bus queues thinned out, and the rows of empty seats on the subway were unrecognisable. And so on and so forth it will continue in Beijing, as the bustling city of 21.5 million rapidly empties out and becomes the most tranquil it has been all year. This is because the majority of the city residents — migrants from all over the country — has returned to their hometowns, and families, to celebrate Chinese New Year. On Monday February 4 — New Year’s Eve — households across Hunan, Sichuan, Zhejiang, Yunnan will have generations gather around tables piled with jiaozi (dumplings), chang shou mian (longevity noodles), rice cakes, spring rolls, and a showstopper preparation of steamed fish, all symbolising prosperity and happiness. Youngsters in the family will receive red envelopes, or hongbao, filled with cash from the elders, firecrackers might be burst, and glasses of baijiu, the infamous sorghum liquor, will beraised to cheers of “Ganbei”. By the end of the night, everyone will likely be sprawled in front of the TV, tipsy and full-bellied, watching the annual CCTV New Year’s Gala. 67809121 Hundreds of kilometres away, in the lead-up to New Year’s, or Spring Festival, Beijing will be the quietest it has been for the past 12 months. And while this change is the most apparent here, thanks to the capital’s sheer size and otherwise absolutely frenetic activity, all of China’s major cities witness this shift. It is important to fully understand the scale of this annual homecoming. There’s even a specific term for it: Chunyun, referring to the period of travel around the Spring Festival, starting about two weeks before New Year’s Day. 67809180 During this time, over 385 million people take over 413 million trips, across the country’s 29,000 km high-speed rail network — an event that’s been called the largest annual human migration in the world. Thousands of train tickets get sold out within seconds, and special high-speed rails like the G4907 are pressed into service. Chunyun can last for as long as a month after Spring Festival. So not only has a large chunk of Beijing’s population gone back home, several of its foreign residents too have left town on vacation. And with good reason, too. If you happen to stay in Beijing over the week of Chinese New Year, or Spring Festival, public holidays, there’s an extremely meagre handful of places to eat at, shop at, do basically anything at. Those planning to be in town during Spring Festival stock up on groceries like prepping for a mild apocalypse. It certainly feels like it anyway. Especially for those made excessively lazy by China’s excellent, hyper-fast home-deliveries for absolutely anything. And by “those”, I mean me. For the few foreign restaurants still available — they are required to pay their staff thrice as much as usual — on my delivery apps, the minimum order amounts multiply manifold. The Spring Festival holidays are often the only time that migrant workers get to visit their families all year; precious limited vacation time means an 18-hour journey across the length of the country isn’t feasible. During Spring Festival, they go home laden with gifts for family, which include everything from the usual clothes and electronics, to giant bottles of olive oil. The last is considered a pretty elegant present, and supermarkets start to resemble mini-obstacle courses, what with the olive oil stash, the enormous fruit baskets, and three-feet-high cartons of assorted nuts filling the aisles. WeChat’s ubiquity in China has also made it possible to send digital versions of the aforementioned lucky red envelopes. Surplus Sweets Beijing is something else during the Spring Festival. The streets are decked with red lanterns, everything looks a little bit brighter, and everyone is happier and more patient. The hallowed Daoxiangcun chain of traditional bakeries is filled with people buying Lunar New Year treats, as well as the delicious aromas of said treats. Established in 1895, the bakery is a favourite with old Beijingers, and also some newly minted ones, such as this intrepid journalist right here. From migua su (honeydew melon puff ) and zhuangyuan bing (Champion cake), to xianhua meigui bing (fresh rose petal pastry) and niu she bing (ox-tongue pastry; a savoury and sweet delight completely devoid of actual ox tongue), Daoxiangcun’s special gift boxes carrying an assortment of goodies are an essential part of festivities. They are meant to be packed tight. If there is any room left between the sweets, people buy a few smaller ones to fill it. The idea is for the boxes to be overflowing — it symbolises surplus. Remember to get a sweet shaped like the animal of the coming year too — we’re up for the Year of the Pig. Like its inspiration, it’s bound to be delicious. Season’s greetings to you. Xinnian kuaile!

from Economic Times http://bit.ly/2D1Ure2