The Islamic new year was celebrated very quietly in Malaysia last November. The Western new year was celebrated in the big cities with fireworks and a few drinks. Finally, though, we've reached the most impressive new year of them all: the Lunar new year, the Chinese celebration of the move into the year of the Water Dragon. This is such an auspicious year that midwives and baby equipment suppliers are already hiking their prices for the expected rush of Dragon Babies.
Muharram was a single sober day, New Year was a few hours of celebration. The Chinese in Malaysia have been partying for two weeks. It began on January 23rd with children chucking firecrackers in the street, loud karaoke in the Chinese cafes, outrageous shopping sprees and a sudden explosion of red - an auspicious colour. Even the traditional Malay shops - shops that cater to Muslim women - got in on the action.
The celebrations have been a little more muted than those of Hong Kong, Singapore, and China itself. My experience of lunar new year has been one of glimpses - a glimpse of a man wearing the golden legs of a lion after performing the lion dance, the sound of drums as a lion dance finishes, the discarded confetti after a lion dance has been there. Yes, the lion dance occurs a lot. It is fundamentally to scare away the evil spirits and to attract luck and fortune, and dance troupes travel the country during the new year visiting businesses and organisations. They are rewarded with ang pow - the little red envelopes containing money that rival the lion dance for sheer visibility at this time.
Last night was our little town's official celebration. I was invited with my colleague and some other long-term homestay residents by the owners of our homestay, who are delightful and warm and friendly and who have the added ingredient of being ex-politicians, and pillars of the community. A friend who came to visit this weekend also came along. I probably didn't prepare her enough, in retrospect, but then even I didn't expect to be driven through the security barrier to the steps of the hall, where we clambered out in front of an audience of lesser persons, and were greeted by our very own lion dance - and when I mean our very own, I mean they performed for just three groups - the head of the Chinese Association of Ranau and his entourage, the Member of Parliament for Ranau and his entourage, and Doctors Lungkiam and Othman and us. The plebs just walked in a side door and sat on benches or rows of chairs. We were guided to one of five tables in the centre. We were, you might say, the centre of attention. Haha. Ahem...
The evening started with a lot of speeches by the proper VIPs (they had white coverings on their chairs, to differentiate them from the RIPs (the Relatively Important People) - that's us) whose pictures were prominently displayed on the stage. Then each table received a large plate with neat and tidy piles of various shredded food, like ginger, and onions that had been dyed green - and we all stood up; the MC counted down from three, and we all grabbed our chopsticks and gleefully and communally mixed up the "salad".
Then we got to eat it while the povo looked on. That wasn't uncomfortable at all.
The lion dance was the main draw of the evening for me. The lion is made up of two men, one in the rear, one in the head, and it is a mastery of martial acrobatics. The head is the most ornate part, with enormous eyes with blinkable eyelids that turn to eye out the audience and other lions, giving him a remarkable character and personality. The mouth opens and closes, and there's a mirror on his forehead - demons are frightened off by their own appearance. Our main lion was black, and he leapt over the stage and strategically placed tables, twitching in time to the energetic drums that waxed and waned throughout the performance, building up to crescendos and then suddenly falling away to almost complete silence.
Pretty spectacular. I think, though, that next year I will leave the glimpsing behind and head for the centre of the action in Singapore...
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