August Moon 2002

Bustling streets of Chinatown around noon.

August Moon "Yue-Bean" for sale.

Carrying tables for vendors. This is a "man's job."

Children marching to "Grand Ol' Flag."

The final stages of cleanup, around 7 p.m.

The ASIA Committee and C.C.B.A. officials.

The girls and a turtle.

The cool table raising glasses. (Anne's broken glass hidden in far right corner.)

The guys. Henry: "You love him more than me!"

Having the bestest time at August Moon.

Part I: "Prelude"
A great heap of balloons, showcasing furrows of colors into the sky, was released alongside much banzai and ballyhoo from the spectators. Perhaps they had been restraining their curiosity long enough; they gathered round, attracted by melodious rapture- prying their way through the crowd, as children wedged in front of ice cream trucks. Absent were the curmudgeons and usual protestors- this was all about the gala and celebration, and a glimpse of what was to come during the Nouvelle Année. You will know that Chinatown is in no way a favela; more exactly, it is a bustling neighborhood -Boston's Heart of Asia- with its eccentricities, diverse inhabitants (Vietnamese, Korean, Taiwanese, Cambodian, and Thai to name a few), and broad cultural horizons. Id est, August Moon 2002 was anything but ordinary.

Part II: "Rabbit in the Moon"
Women's Festival or August Moon is the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month. The festival time and again symbolizes beauty and elegance. While some look to the sun for its power, people in the far east, admire the moon. Children are often reminded of the goddess who flies to the moon, casting her figure for all to see. Partakers feast on moon-cake with relatives- one the highlights- and look to the starry night for their goddess. But there's much more. Knowing Chinatown, it was no question that the planned celebration would be awe-inspiring and superfluous in every way. Chinese people tend to outdo themselves, well, all the time. I mean, who else would buy $40 lunar-cake?

Part III: "A Day Without Rain"
7:30 A.M. The girls gathered at a street corner near Kneeland. The setting was far from picturesque. It is not likely for anyone to ignore Chinatown's indiscreet litter. Behind the police pickets, cigarette butts and leaflets scattered about in all corners. Miasma seeping from sewer grates just boiled over your body. You didn't drop a penny and hope to pick it up. Dyed hair ackdongs weren't wholly to blame; in fact, as one girl said- partial liability rests on old people. Volunteers arrived and subsequently were given tasks from the coordinators. Tables and chairs needed to be moved hereon. More or less, it was a bit tricky with the streets now teeming with early-comers and confusing directions. Cue the bazaar sounds. Before lunch, everyone helped with the balloons: Volunteers inflated the multi-colored things and tied them up with ribbons. The C.C.B.A. representative and I coupled balloons onto the podium. The work was underlying only to the laughter, our enjoyment and the occasional mishaps. One or two balloons had gone AWOL- several exploded, and a string of them had gone MIA soon after.

Part IV: "Quiet Afternoon"
"Man," Aristotle once said, "is by nature a political animal." Indeed political intent beset August Moon with Romney-Healy campaigners, bourgeoisie running for reelection, and other Caucasians looking for gratis advertising. On the other hand, several key issues were made adamant by Chinatown leaders (exampli gratia: Liberty Place) and will no doubt benefit the district. We were honored by a visit from New York's Consul General who gave his blessing and best wishes. While volunteers were behind the scenes much earlier setting up the arena- the festival began when organizers and district chiefs made their speeches and bid people most gracious day. Lion dances inaugurated August Moon (despite some flawed footwork), and children from local Chinese schools livened the scene with their own contributions. The performing marching band let out familiar songs like "Grand Old Flag," which instilled a sense of patriotism and unity for onlookers. Kids and their parents graciously waved our stars and stripes in the air- their hands symbolically to chest. During the course of events, there were some great speeches. Chinese communiqué is loud, public- as it should be. One could unmistakably recognize both dialectical counterparts and an English translation. Most of the spectators; then again, were unresponsive and had their hands in their pockets. Straight-talking individuals would call it "tough crowd."

Part V: Lio Aka Vaiio Rapture
Chinatown never looked cleaner after the celebration ended and after we sterilized the whole spot. Cleanup had been quite exasperating, but time passed by willingly. It was a gratifying experience: to be helping the community even if most of us were from Dorchester, South Boston, Quincy, and similarly far away places. At some points, it seemed hopeless to sweep the streets since trash collected into mountainous piles- and the stubborn wind just beckoned more trash into the streets, however, everyone assisted each other and accomplished this task. James and I even pushed a helium canister seven blocks down the street, although it was an overwhelming task and tense shifting experience. The day nevertheless was serious merriment and a great workout. Not to mention there were several occasions of shoving ice down people's shirts during our break, providing ample entertainment.

Part VI: Fin
Dinner was categorically the best part. Most didn't mind the hour wait for the food. The excitement, labor, and the experience had left all of us in a satisfied stupor. We had seven or eight courses and plenty of ice water. The food at Empire Garden was pleasant and enjoyable. We chatted a bunch, ate food, and did similarly normal things at dinner: for example, running your finger back and forth across a glass to hear the "reverberations,” trying to connect two glasses together- only to break one and hide it under the table, et cetera. Towards 9:30 or so, volunteers began to leave, finally and regretfully, our glass squeaking contests came to a halt- no more loitering- we had to go. As people said their goodbyes, I realized I had never witnessed such teamwork and compassion or met so many new people. Everything that happened on August 18th only built my anticipation for the next August Moon. I would like to applaud the C.C.B.A., the ASIA officers, the volunteers, and everyone who decided to come.