An American’s Spring Festival in the Chinese Countryside

By Mark Levine

Making dumplings together with Fu Family

First Impression

As a resident of San Francisco for 23 years with a February birthday, I often encountered celebrations of Chinese New Year-or Spring Festival, as it is known in China-in the course of my own birthday celebrations. The date of the holiday is determined by the lunar calendar, so its date in the Gregorian calendar moves between January and February. For most of those 23 years, the highlight of my birthday was a visit by my parents,who would host a dinner for me and many of my friends. When my birthday and Spring Festival happened to coincide, traveling from my apartment to the restaurant would always take 60 to 90 minutes longer than usual, as the area in and around Chinatown was jammed with throngs of revelers. It was quite noisy too, because honking horns were accompanied by exploding fi recrackers, which, although illegal, were never in short supply at that time of year.

Frankly, back then, although the holiday was exciting, it was more of an inconvenience, since it delayed personal plans for me, my family and friends. During my first couple of Spring Festivals in China, my participation was minimal: a dinner at the home of one of my students or dinner at a restaurant with some Chinese friends. I’d watch some of the special TV programming and the fireworks displays from the safety of my apartment. In 2009, however, I had the opportunity to change all this and get right in the middle of the holiday festivities.Having taken that opportunity, I now have a unique set of experiences to share. Before recounting them, however, let me offer a few general observations about Spring Festival based on my years living in China.

Although it is a national holiday and the largest and most important holiday in China, it is not the paramount holiday for all of China’s 56 ethnic groups. Indeed, some Chinese ethnic minorities have their own Spring Festival celebrations at different times of the year.

But Spring Festival is much more than that. Because it is the most important time for family members to get together and for students and workers to return home, government estimates have suggested that as many as one billion, yes, one billion Chinese travel during the holiday. It is like Thanksgiving or Christmas. In the practice of giving gifts to children (primarily red envelopes called hong bao filled with money) by parents,grandparents and aunts and uncles, it resembles Christmas or the Jewish holiday of Chanukah. The practice of special prayers for deceased relatives at this time of year is reminiscent of the Day of the Dead holiday celebrated in Mexico and in Mexican communities in the United States. And, of course, the fi reworks always remind me of the Fourth of July celebrations in the U.S.So with this as the backdrop, let me turn to the story of my spe-cial Spring Festival celebration in 2009.

Spring Festival in the Countryside

In summer 2008, Fu Han and her parents invited me to their home in the countryside of southern Hubei Province to celebrate Spring Festival the following January. I immediately accepted the invitation.

I had never been to this part of China, and although I’d ridden through the Chinese countryside in cars, buses and trains many times, I had never stayed in the country. Because of this and the anticipation of spending Spring Festival in the home of a Chinese family, needless to say, my excitement mounts as the taxi speeds along the country roads. The final stretch of road is actually not a road but a narrow dirt path, much of which is really not quite wide enough for a car. As a result, bushes and tree branches brush against the taxi almost continuously until we reach the point where it can go no farther.

Fu Han’s father, Fu Chengde, is the first to greet me. Then her mother, Zhang Hongyan, does the same. I had already heard so much about them, and they about me, that we felt as though we already knew each other. Neither of her parents speaks English and my Chinese vocabulary is extremely limited. But with Fu Han’s help, the lack of a shared language does nothing to hinder us from getting to know one another and building strong bonds of friendship.

The family house is a large, two-story structure with fields in the front and a small, forested hillside in back. On the roof of the house they raise chickens and wild pigeons. Both the chickens and the pigeons provide food for many of the meals. The house was designed and built by Fu Chengde and is about 10 years old. Fu Chengde was born and raised on this land, and many of his relatives live only a few minutes away.

Fu Han had already been coaching her mother in English, and her first words to me were, “Welcome to our home.” I later learn that her words of welcome to me were actually the first she had ever spoken in English. It was also the first time she had ever spoken with a non-Chinese. Ecstatic over the environment and the exceptionally warm welcome, I am thrilled to answer, “Xie xie” (“Thank you”).

This was the beginning of an extraordinary visit: my first stay in a Chinese home, my first stay in the Chinese countryside and my first real introduction to Spring Festival. This was the beginning of my Spring Festival at the home of Family Fu.

Do in Rome as Rome Does

After being welcomed, I am shown to my room. Actually, I had two rooms: a bedroom and an adjacent room with a beautiful table and several chairs designed by Fu Chengde.

Before my arrival, Fu Han had told me that her mother, concerned about the winter cold, had made a brand-new quilt for my bed. I learned that this was not just to handle the cold, but was part of the Spring Festival tradition of taking time in the month or so preceding the holiday for ban nianhuo (preparing Spring Festival items). On the bed with the quilt are matching sheets and pillowcases, all hand stitched. It is beautiful to look at and I find it is plenty warm despite nighttime temperatures that consistently dip below freezing. But even the warmth provided by that wonderful quilt is far exceeded by the warmth of the family’s welcome and the knowledge of what they had done in preparation for my visit.

I am there. What I do eat is really good; the “problem” is that each day is filled with bountiful and delicious meals — three at least. The regular lunches and dinners — as opposed to the special meals for Spring Festival — generally have at least 10 dishes for the four of us. These usually include several fish or meat dishes prepared in a variety of ways, including smoking,frying, stewing and steaming. Some of the meat dishes involved parts of animals favored in many parts of the world but not standard fare in the U.S. or other Western countries, like pig’s ear and tail, chicken feet, chicken head, fish head and many more. There are many vegetable dishes too, all of which use homegrown produce. Each meal also includes at least one, and perhaps two or more, tofu dishes. Some of the foods are specialties of Hubei Province or even the local area. Also, nothing goes to waste because whatever is left over from one meal is brought out again for the next.

Another dinner table conversation revolves around Fu Chengde’s status as a qigong master. Qigong refers to traditional practices involving methods of accumulating and circulating air (qi) or energy within the body. The practice of qigong has several purposes: health maintenance, therapeutic treatment and spirituality and as a Chinese martial art. Both kungfu and taichi are forms of qigong.

Fu Chengde has prepared three sets of duilian (red paper banners with Chinese calligraphy) conveying wishes for the coming year. Each set of duilian comprises a pair of vertical banners to hang to the left and right of the main door of the house, plus one that is positioned horizontally above the same doorway.One set is for the Fu house; one is for a niece who is coming the next day; and the third is for me to take home for my own doorway. After dinner I help him and Fu Han put up the duilian around their doorway. Above the door Fu Chengde had written a wish for “a rich, wealthy and bright future.” For the banner on the left side he wrote, “We still have to work hard to make the future better. Come on. Come on.” On the right side he had written, “We worked hard to build this beautiful house and now we look back and see it in our heart.”

Another important thing must be done in Spring Festival. That evening we prepare for dinner by setting a table in the living room. There will be 21 dishes and the table is set for 10 with 10 chairs, 10 bowls with small amounts of rice, and 10 pairs of chopsticks. These extra place settings are there to summon and welcome deceased ancestors to join the celebration, in much the same way that the Jewish Passover Seder table has a vacant chair and a cup of wine to welcome the prophet Elijah.

After setting the table and before eating, there are prayers and offerings of food to the goddess Guanyin, who symbolizes compassion, mercy and love in both Buddhism and Taoism. Following the prayers, Fu Chengde and Zhang Hongyan each light three sticks of incense and take them outside to place them in various spots to say goodbye and mark the path for their relatives to depart. Zhang Hongyan also burns more paper money and the couple set off at least another thousand fi recrackers.

Before eating, the place settings for the ancestors are cleared away, leaving 21 dishes and place settings for the four of us. It is really a lot of food.

During dinner Zhang Hongyan asks about meals at Christmas,and I tell them that a common American Christmas menu centers on turkey as the main course. But I also tell them about the great variety of menus based on regional specialties or dishes,and that sometimes entire menus are transplanted from other countries. Fu Chengde comments on how China’s ethnic diversity has led to variations in Spring Festival celebrations, noting that some ethnic groups don’t celebrate Spring Festival at all.

After eating and clearing the table, we do what families throughout China are doing that night, namely watching the Spring Festival Gala on CCTV. This annual variety show offers the national audience famous singers, dancers, musicians, comedians, magicians and acrobats.

Although fi recrackers have been exploding all day, their intensity heightens with the approach of midnight. In the Fu family home, attention is diverted from the TV extravaganza as we pick up boxes of fi reworks and fi recrackers and run outside to light them. Two more large wheels of fi recrackers and several boxes of packaged fi reworks are lit, and along with similar pyrotechnic displays from all the farmhouses in the village, the sky makes me think of what Francis Scott Key must have seen when he wrote “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Bright, colorful fireworks are accompanied by a never-ending succession of fi recracker explosions until shortly after midnight; then the sky goes dark and there is a sudden and eerie silence after 24 hours of a nearly round-the-clock cannonade.

After the fireworks our focus shifts again, this time to eating the dumplings I had helped Fu Chengde and Fu Han prepare the day before. It is my fi rst time preparing this traditional dish,and I must say that even stuffi ng coming out. Finally, at about 2 a.m., it is time to sleep and silence reigns until the morning.

Family is an important part of Chinese life. This is especially true during Spring Festival. It was Spring Festival that brought Fu Han back home. It is the same with many of her friends and relatives who have moved away. Some left for further education and are either still studying or have settled elsewhere after graduation. Others moved for work reasons. But at Spring Festival, they all return to their beloved hometowns and families.Beyond returning to the family hearth, Spring Festival also means making the rounds among relatives and visiting their homes. This means a busy time at the Fu home. The second day of the new year brings 15 relatives: Fu Han’s maternal aunts,uncles and cousins. The following day brings another 18 rela-

tives: Fu Han’s paternal aunts, uncles and Cousins.

Like family, food is an important part of Chinese life, as refl ected in the common greeting Chi fan le ma? (“Have you eaten yet?”) And again like family, it becomes even more important at Spring Festival.

All these guests also mean different kinds of group activities.There is conversation, singing,badminton, ping-pong, an assortment of card games, photo-taking and mahjong, an ageold Chinese tile game that has had periods of popularity in the West. Several of the guests are infants or young children who receive plenty of attention from all and to whom I am identifi ed as laowai yeye (“foreign grandpa”).

After Spring Festival and several days of meeting the visiting family members, my own visit comes to a close with warm farewells.

A Quiet and Harmonious Life

After such a wonderful visit in 2009, I’m impressed by Fu home.The design and placement of the house comes from his belief in Daoism and is based on the principles of fengshui. In the center of the large multipurpose room there is the traditional yin and yang symbol drawn into the concrete. Even before the house was completed, Fu Chengde retired early and moved out of the city. His wife followed and they returned to their rural roots,working full time as farmers.

Fu Chengde explains this in two ways. He speaks of the diffi -cult times of his late teens, the lack of food and near starvation that he faced. He talks about the past and present leadership of China and, although not a member of the Communist Party,he is unwavering in his belief that “Mao Zedong gave us our country” and that the progress China has made would not have been possible without Mao’s leadership. He also credits the policies of Deng Xiaoping for the fact that the starvation conditions he once faced are but a distant memory for anybody in his village. As for today’s leadership, he has trust that progress will continue.

At the same time, his lifestyle choices — moving back to the country from the city, giving up an offi ce job to return to farming — convey some of his views about what progress means. Fu Chengde is quite critical of city life. He is critical of the waste,and at his home everything is used and reused. He is critical of a life that is dependent on technology, and each time he hears about a power failure somewhere that disrupts people’s everyday lives, his views are reinforced. Yes, he has an electric pump, and when the electricity in the countryside is turned off to ensure its availability to the city, he will operate it manually.When the pipes freeze, water can be drawn from one of several nearby ponds.

Fu Chengde is a believer in progress, but at the same time he cherishes a simpler life. Most importantly, he and his family are wonderful hosts who have made me feel warmly welcomed even during the cold winter.