On Chinese New Year Eve Eve it snowed and resulted in me running around my complex like a little kid
enthusastically stomping the ground and shaking every branch I could reach and
losing all feeling in my hands. Oh and taking a million photos. That night
people thought I was crazy because I was so over the moon about it, but the
thing that all these Europeans don't understand is that in Australia it doesn't
really snow, ever. And I was never a kid that got to go to the perisher or
thredbo every year like everyone else and learn a snowsport, like I didn't grow
up with nippers and surfing, bar one week at Let's Go Surfing in Bondi when I
was like 12.
From the moment I woke up
on New Years Eve, there was not one five minute period during which I did not
hear fireworks. For dinner we had enough food to feed at least 50 people
and then we set off our own fireworks like the rest of China while I squealed
with uncontrollable joy.
At midnight I experienced a
little deja vu while watching the fireworks on the bund because I'd been there
a month and a half before for a different new years. Trippy as.
Chinese New Year is about
50 billion times more epic than western New Year because it lasts for 15 days
and the whole country stops. For me, it has thus far involved a lot of eating
and little red envelopes which, I mean, is fine by me.
So, Xin nian kuai le! Gong
xi fa cai! Shen ti jian kang! Wan xi ru yi!
Note:
A friend has been lovely
enough to let me use her VPN and I think I just sucked up a lot of her usage
uploading these photos so these will probably be the last photos you'll see
until I can put more up when I get home! Sorry Myrna!
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