Chinese Lunar New Year 2008 (Legal Limbo 2)
Jesus says that we should forgive those who “trespass against us.” He also says to “love your neighbor as yourself.”
I’m sorry. But I’m having difficulty forgiving and loving neighbors who explode bombs in my backyard.
There is a family in my neighborhood that detonates illegal fireworks at odd times of the year. I could be cooking my lunch at 10 a.m. on March 20th, when boom! My floor shakes and I end up screaming. I have filed multiple complaints with the police, and I know that my more trustworthy neighbors have complained to the family’s landlord about their tenant’s behavior. For a while they did stop.
Until December 29th, 2023, when, at 9 p.m. they detonated an explosive, making my house vibrate and causing me to file another complaint with the police.
Every time this family explodes these bombs, it triggers my PTSD. They are triggering an event that I experienced back in the winter of 2008 in Xi’an, China.
February 2008
I spent fourteen years living in the land where gunpowder, the basic ingredient for fireworks, was invented. I have endured fourteen Lunar New Year celebrations where the entire country goes up in smoke.
Yet, none of them was as traumatic as 2008 when I lived in the ancient city of Xi’an, known for its Terra Cotta Warriors.
The city of Xi’an is divided into two parts; the ancient city, which includes the downtown area, and the modern city. They are separated by a square wall, the only completed wall in China.
Inside the wall in the heart of the city is the Muslim Quarter, Gulou (Drum Tower), and Zhonglou (Bell Tower). The wall has several gates on all sides, allowing cars and pedestrians to travel between the old city and the more modern area of Xi’an.
I lived inside the old city in the southwestern corner of the wall near a gate called Hanguangmen (Hanguang gate) in a residential neighborhood. My apartment complex consisted of three, five storied buildings at the north, west, and south of my block, while the east end was blocked by a separate complex. To enter, tenants must pass through a gate run by a guard.
In my complex was an open-air courtyard with trees, bushes, flowers, and benches for people to sit on.
Everyday I would take a bus from Hanguangmen to Zhonglou where I worked. The ride took at least twenty-five minutes, and I would always get to see the massive drums at Gulou.
Most schools I have worked at would allow me a week off for the Lunar New Year so that I could travel. Government run schools would give their students a month off.
Travel allowed me to avoid such noisy celebrations, and most hotels are in commercial areas where business owners are closing for the weeklong holiday.
Unfortunately, my school only gave its teachers two days off because when students are out from regular school, they all go to private language schools to keep up with their English.
Not enough time for me to travel.
My school closed two hours early on the eve of the Lunar New Year so that everyone could go home and be with their families. I boarded a bus and headed home. On the way, I could see families celebrating in Gulou by lighting those red firecrackers. In the distance I could see aerials in the sky.
From a safe distance.
The closer I got home, however, the more intense the celebrations and the noise. The smell of smoke and gunpowder was also overwhelming.
The minute I stepped off my bus at Hanguangmen, I was immediately confronted by celebrants popping fireworks of every kind, from the popular red firecrackers to spinners and rockets to fireworks that whistle.
Then there were those that sounded and felt like bombs.
Immediately I tried to take cover under the eaves of my bus stop. All I had for protection was a long overcoat with a hood, gloves, and black Ugg boots with pom poms. I had nothing to protect my ears from the deafening sounds of bombs exploding. I could only scream and stick my fingers in my ears to drown out the sound.
I also carried a backpack in the front. My backpack was catching falling ash and debris which I quickly brushed off.
I still had to cross a major road with cars and walk another three blocks to get home. Not only did I have to dodge cars, but I also had to dodge missiles and rockets coming from every direction.
After running across the road and screaming like a mad woman, I finally reached the other side and tried to take cover under the eaves of another building. I could feel the embers falling on my hood. I was so scared. I couldn’t even scream anymore. I could only utter a long, drawn-out moan to drown out the noise, and I continued sticking my fingers in my ears.
I still had to walk three more blocks to get home. I took a deep breath – full of gunpowder and smoke – and I moaned and ran to my apartment building, ran through the gate and to the third floor. Once inside, I closed and secured any open windows and I tried to shower to get rid of the smell of gunpowder in my clothes. Once I put on some fresh clothes, I tried to boil water to cook some frozen dumplings for dinner.
Tried, because outside in the alley below and in the courtyard in the back, bombs kept going off, causing my windows to rattle and my floor to undulate beneath my feet. I was so scared I pushed my dining room table beneath my doorway connecting my living room with my bedroom, and threw some blankets and pillows under the table to try and get some sleep. I was afraid that something was going to fall on me.
The bombing continued for several hours until just past midnight. I could never sleep comfortably on the floor. Eventually, I moved back to my bed.
I wasn’t going to get much sleep anyway.
Two days later, I had to return to work. I had to take the bus at Hanguangmen to downtown. On my way to the bus stop, I encountered two scruffy men in their forties, smoking, and detonating fireworks. They had placed a red cylinder, a little larger than my fist, in the middle of the alley, a road I use to get to my stop.
Just as I was approaching, one of them lit the fuse with a cigarette lighter. They make a run for it, but in their haste the damn thing toppled over. Sparks spewed out – at my feet! I felt like I was in a western film where I had to perform the bullet dance. Once again, I had to run like hell to get to my stop. Luckily, those two men were able to extinguish the fuse before the bomb detonated and I arrived at work safely.
Right now, in our state legislature there is a huge debate regarding the sale and detonating of aerial fireworks, especially in the aftermath of the Lahaina wildfires on Maui. According to Honolulu Civil Beat, more than 112,000 pounds of illegal fireworks were seized in December. Yet, my inconsiderate neighbors were able to get some. As a result, I spent New Years Eve screaming and cursing them out to drown out the noise.
If these people choose to pop fireworks on Independence Day and my home is in their line of fire, don’t expect me to be so forgiving.
xinghuajiangsu 