The fires inside

Nearly every year in London, I go into town to see some tourist Mid Autumn festivities in Chinatown. Which mostly consists of stalls selling either food or crap or crap food (stall food). You get the occasional calligraphy writing and what not. I go I guess because it’s nice o see a bit of Chinese culture in the mainstream environment, even if it is spruced up for the tourists. But as I just so happen to be in Hong Kong for the festival (for the first time). Today I went to my grandma’s village for a meal. Actually it was more than a meal. The villagers gathered for a little show with singers cum comedians who were quite funny and racy actually, even though the audience had small children and elderly who were over 80 years old. They sang and danced with the locals in and around the tables and greeting people by hand. It was really fun and lively and I have never seen the village so alive despite coming here for over 20 years. They set two handmade ‘air balloons’ in the air with a trail of fore crackers. It’s an old tradition that isn’t practiced as much as it used to be. I had heard my mum talk about it but never thought I would see one. It was pretty grand. The thing just shot off the ground with a ball of fire inside and a trail of firecrackers going off. The fire goes out within a few minutes and it comes down. A little later, my gran was praying the moon and asked me to light a small pack of fire crackers. If you’ve never seen or heard one, they are loud, fast and pretty dangerous to handle. But they are great. She told me to throw it over when it’s lit. So I went towards the candle and lit it. It went off right after and I jumped and let go as it exploded in consecutive splutters in my hand. It scared the daylights out of me for a split second and I had what looked like gunpowder stains on my elbow and shirt. The ash settled on my 1938 Leica III. Me and my gran just stood there laughing are asses off.

My gran was born in 1924 which makes her 82. She was 14 when my Leica came into existence. It makes me happy to see her still full of verve and laughing. But it makes me sad that she won’t be around much longer. She is after all, the oldest and last member of that generation of my family. I want to come here every year for Mid Autumn Festival. Even if I have to light up my hand again to see my gran laugh.

- J

ps. The Mid Autumn Festival is actually derived from a love story.