Well, you are right. Chinese calendar is a lunar calendar, which means the date of new year’s day in relation to western calendar always changes. And this year it falls on Valentine’s Day, when the Chinese 庚寅 (geng1 yin2) year starts.

However, a common mistake is to think the Year of Tiger starts on the Chinese New Year Day. Indeed, a press release from the Great London Authority confidently states, “The Year of the Tiger begins on 14 February”.

It’s easy to think Chinese only use lunar calendar. Actually, the Chinese zodiac, the 12 animals that represent each year in cycle, is associated with the Chinese agricultural calendar, which is a solar calendar. A year begins at the day of Spring Commences (立春), the first of the 24 solar segments of a Chinese solar calendar year. Since the Gregorian calendar is also a solar calendar. The date of Spring Commences doesn’t change a lot each year, always being 3 Feb or 4 Feb, unlike the Chinese New Year’s Day which changes widely, for example from last year’s 26 Jan to this year’s 14 Feb.

There is an online calendar that will show you the Chinese calendar along side the Gregorian calendar, plus common eastern and western holidays.

The Harmony Chinese Music Ensemble, led by Scottish composer and flutist Eddie McGuire, gave a mesmerising performance at Canongate Kirk on the Royal Mile. Kimho Ip, a regular member of the Ensemble, performed a meditating piece using Chinese music instrument yangqi (杨琴) and electric sounds. Cheng-Ying Chuang, who had already given a well-received solo performance at the same venue, also joined in, playing zhongruan (中阮) and liuqin (柳琴), both of the two Chinese music instruments are rarely seen and heard in the UK.

But the star of the night is in no doubt Fong Liu, a vocalist who performed various Chinese folk songs. Initially appearing a little nervous, she soon relaxed and her piercing voice and theatrical style engaged and enchanted the audiences through the evening. Her volume of voice, which is necessary when those songs were originally sung in the scarcely inhabited mountains in the Western regions of China, seemed perfectly suited the generous space of Canongate Kirk.

While singing the mountain folk songs, her voice delivered the extremely enjoyable and touching untamed quality. It was obviously a choice made by the artist, as when she sang the encore, Love Song of Kangding (康定情歌), she abandoned the modernised, gentle version you might have heard elsewhere, and went for the raw, Tibetan style instead. She then showed her extraordinary range by singing a tender Northeastern lullaby and a smooth and soft Eastern folk song, Purple Bamboo Melody (紫竹调).

It’s a shame that Harmony Ensemble only performed one night at this year’s Fringe. Judging from the audiences’ reaction, Edinburgh will surely welcome them back.

It is thus unfortunate that my knowledge of the three ‘unsung heroes’, who received the awards at the ceremony, does not enhance much. I know one of them, Florence Qiu, quite well. I worked for her to organise the Tyneside Cinema Chinese Season some years ago. Florence has worked tirelessly for the Northeast England Chinese community for many years, devouting time and energy to promoting cultural exchange. She is certainly a worthy winner of the award. However, the other two winners remain ‘unsung heroes’ to me. A little more introduction of their work and contribution is no more than they deserve.

Delaying, delayed, severely delayed

On my way back to Edinburgh today, I was sitting on the ‘delaying’ GNER train that stalled somewhere between King’s Cross and Peterborough because a train ahead of us had some problem with the overhead wire. When the train reached Doncaster one and half hour late we were told we were on a ‘delayed’ train. Upon departure from Newcastle, two hour late, the new driver started the announcement with a sign, ‘this is the severely delayed service to…’ making everyone on board smile. An award recognising the Chinese community’s contribution to the British society is certainly ‘delayed’ if not ’severely delayed’. I hope there will be no further ‘delaying’.

An often heard complaint among the youngests who came to the UK from China is that this place is just a bit dull. People can cite me many things they used to do in China, eating out at a newly opened restaurant, karaoke at a new KTV, or exchanging some latest American tv series are just the common ones. There seems to be endless supplies of new ways of consuming and entertaining. Things are moving rather fast there.

This fits well what Hewitt said, that it almost like the 60 years of post war development in the West has been compressed into 20 years in China. BBC’s Andrew Marr, in his History of Modern Britain, describes the make over of Birmingham in the 60s – the old Birmingham almost completely disappeared while people can’t wait to see a New Britain. Imagine that in a much bigger scale, repeated every five years. That’s what’s happening in China.

When I went back to China in 2004, I took a shuttle bus (which itself had morphed from an old rugged 20-seater to a shining, air-conditioned 60-seater) through a longer route (because I landed in the new Pudong Airport). When the bus approached my hometown Suzhou, some 50 miles west of Shanghai, I saw lots of brand new-looking factories and warehouses, followed by high and low rise apartment blocks, but I couldn’t make out where I was, until after about half a hour when I finally saw a building I vaguely remembered, which was way outside the city of Suzhou. The city may have doubled its size, only in about three years time.

This most visible change of China is where Hewitt started – the change of urban landscape. But ultimately as the title suggests, this book is about life. As a journalist Hewitt had been able to talk to many people, across the country and generations, from trendy city dwellers to those who are struggling at the bottom of the food chain.
As one who had been in China and Hong Kong for long time and speaks Mandarin, he showed his understooding and empathy of the people he talked to. But at the same time, he maintains a viewpoint from outside, which helps him to see the big picture – as we Chinese like to say ‘the spectator sees it more clearily’.

A question Hewitt raised but was not able to answer is why it happens so fast? To be fair, this is not a question this book could answer. Perhaps we just don’t know the answer. As a Chinese, I always feel that the urgent sense to be modern and competitive, to be ’strong again’ means we embrace anything precieved to be new or advanced without much hesitation. Indeed we have quite often jumped into the arm of the “new” happily. The frantic pace of development means there is little room for the concerning the protection of environment or culture heritage. Perserving and protecting are always much more expensive than demolishing the old and building and new. The economic development brings to the people material wealth in relatively short time, but at the same time causes intense anxiety, insecurity and delusion. But as you will find in this book, when people have ingenious ways to make money, they also have imaginative ways to deal with the emotional stress, to perserve history and cultural heritage.

What is good about Getting Rich First is its vivid recording of how people are coping with the rapid social and economic transition in China. It’s an informative and enjoyable read.

In Chinese in Britain Anna Chen says for most British people “the history of the Chinese in Britain begins with The Takeaway Generation”. Indeed even many Chinese can only associate Chinese in Britain with Chinese restaurants, and perhaps a couple of intellectuals or academic elites who had been in the UK for some time. The VIPs aside, I was suprised to learn that early Chinese settlers were mainly seamen, and they opened laundries instead takeaways when moving ashore. Chinese in Britain has thourough research as well as human interests. The stories of the early migrants were told not only by scholars but also the descents.

Although this program mainly focuses on the early settlers, there is at least one episode about education in the UK that connects the past with the present. I can only hope there will be more to come, and more about the young generation of migrants including Chinese students and young professionals who came here in thousands attracted by the high quality educational system and the training and employment opportunities. The only mistake I can find is the claim that “fifty thousand Chinese students come to the UK every year”. The number “fifty thousand” is more likely the total number of Chinese students currently enrolled in higher education institutes. The number given by Chinese Ambassey is one hundred thousand, but that includes current students, graduates and profesionals, visiting scholars and their families.

While Chinese in Britain discovers the untold stories of the early generation, Duncan Hewitt’s new book Getting Rich First: Life in a Changing China looks to the rapid social and economic transition at present China. Hewitt is a keen and sharp observers. He can explains complex social phenomenons in a clear and simple way with the level of understanding only an “insider” could reach, and at the same time points out the absurdity and inequality an “outsider”, possibly from a country which has been through all those, is at the best position to pick up. I also like the way Hewitt tell the stories – with sympathy and humour, which make them more enjoyable.

One chapter in Hewitt’s book echos my personal experience. My hometown Suzhou (苏州), a city with rich culture and history, famous for its residence architectures and canals, is known in China as “Heaven on Earth”. In the 90s it underwent a huge makeover, during which many typical South-of-Yangtze River (jiangnan 江南) style houses were demolished, giving way to flashy office buildings and shopping malls. An old house with high wall and courtyard where I lived as a child – a house built (in early 20th century or possibly earlier) for a middle class family but was shared by four families at that time – was completely gone. I could only roughly guess the position of the foundation of the house — which became part of a widened road when I visited it in 1998. The same happened to many old buildings – building new is much cheaper and quicker than keeping the old, and we Chinese seem not to mind too much of losing our heritages. It’s true that some famous large residences and gardens (yuanlin 园林) have survived and are well maintained, but they are all surrounded by nondescriptive new buildings now.

Anna Chen didn’t mention whether there will be a second series of Chinese in Britian. Surely there are lots of stories to tell about the new generations of Chinese? The influx of immigrants from Hong Kong during 80s and Chinese students in the last 10 years must have changed the composition and mentality of the UK Chinese community. What about the second and third generation of British Chinese? And what about those illegal immigrants who are truely at the bottom of the society, whose living conditions are painly depicted in Nick Broomfield’s Ghosts (2006)?

As for Hewitt, I’d like to suggest him to go back to China in perhaps five years time and to give us his observation again. I for one would be very interested in hearing what he would say.

I’ve only learned recently that the ‘zodiac year of pig’ starts not on 18th of Febuary, but 4th of Febuary of 2007, when the Chinese solar term ‘Spring Commences‘ (立春) starts. Chinese use both lunar calendar (as in Chinese New Year) and solar calendar. The solar calendar was mainly used for planning agriculure activity and predicting weather. The whole year, according to the solar calendar, is divided into 24 solar terms based on the movement of the sun. And the date of each term matchs very well with the Julie’s calendar – because both are solar calendar. So ‘Spring Commences’ is always 4th or 5th of Febuary. This makes it easy for anyone who happens to be in around January or Febuary to know which animal he or she is associated with.

The 24 solar terms are difficult to translated into English, but I’ve found a list of elegant translation, from Hong Kong Observatory’s website, plus some clear explaination of the 24 solar terms. The followings are their translation:

1. 立春 Spring Commences
2. 雨水 Spring Showers
3. 惊蛰 Insects Waken
4. 春分 Vernal Equinox
5. 清明 Bright and Clear
6. 谷雨 Corn Rain
7. 立夏 Summer Commences
8. 小满 Corn Forms
9. 芒种 Corn on Ear
10. 夏至 Summer Solstice
11. 小暑 Moderate Heat
12. 大暑 Great Heat
13. 立秋 Autumn Commences
14. 处暑 End of Heat
15. 白露 White Dew
16. 秋分 Autumnal Equinox
17. 寒露 Cold Dew
18. 霜降 Frost
19. 立冬 Winter Commences
20. 小雪 Light Snow
21. 大雪 Heavy Snow
22. 冬至 Winter Solstice
23. 小寒 Moderate Cold
24. 大寒 Severe Cold