The dragon boat festival falls on the fifth day of the fifth month of the Lunar Calendar. To celebrate, people eat 粽子 (sticky rice dumplings), race dragon boats, balance eggs, ward off evil spirits and more. So what's the story behind it all?
Over 2,000 years ago in China, there was a celebrated poet and minister named QuYuan who was exiled for supposed treason. Plagued by despair over not being able to help the country that he loved, he threw himself into a river. Local villagers tried to save him, racing in boats to try and pluck him from the river. Others threw 粽子 into the river so that the fish wouldn't eat QuYuan's body. Hence we now have Dragon Boat races and eat 粽子. But what about the warding off evil spirits?
The fifth lunar month is considered an unlucky month that brings natural disasters, illness and poisonous creatures. To ward off the bad spirits, people hang calamus, Artemisia, pomegranate flowers, Chinese ixora and garlic above their doors, and wear small 香包
(incense packets) around their necks or on their wrists. These were believed to deter disease, bad luck and insects.
And balancing eggs? That is a tradition linked to the vernal equinox and the belief that the eggs can be best balanced at noon on the day of the Dragon Boat Festival. There are many competitions to see who can balance the most eggs. However, it is apparently possible on other days as well.
Luckily, I was able to experience all of these wonderful traditions because of the amazing Wu family, who brought myself and Emily into the fold to celebrate the day. My friend Ricky invited us to join her parents, grandma and brother and sister-in-law, for a jam packed day of celebration.
We began with a lunch of 粽子(which is a delicious packet of sticky rice, meat, and mushrooms all steamed in a bamboo leaf), 煎堆(a type of taiwanese pancake. It's role was to symbolize blocking out the sun left over by the annular eclipse, according to Ricky's grandma), fresh fruit, and soup with meatballs. We were also given incense packets, which everyone wore around their necks, and attempted to balance eggs at noon. None of us were successful, however many of Ricky's friends were able to balance not one, but several eggs at once! Finally, Ricky's mom urged us to wash our hands in water that had been collected during... the eclipse or some other important moment involving the moon (my translation skills failed me here). It's said to bring strength and power to the individual, so much so that some people actually shower in it.
Then it was off to the Dragon Boat races! Because of covid, Lugang was one of the few cities that hadn't delayed or cancelled the event. They did however cancel the night races, where the boats are decorated with lights. But the day race would prove to be just as fun. Even with the breeze coming off the water, the heat was intense. We walked past hordes of vendors hawking much needed juices, teas and fruit before finding a place in the shade among the crowd. Soon the races began. Drums filled the air, and we all rose to the edge of our seat.
Dragon Boats were originally wooden vessels that were intricately carved and painted with dragon heads. They are propelled by a crew of 18-20 paddlers, with a steerperson and a drummer. The drum beats can be considered the "heartbeat" of the dragon boat, and are used to signal the crew the tempo of paddling. To win, as they reach the finish line, a crew member must race to the front of the boat, climb onto the head of the dragon and stretch out to grab a flag. If the flag is missed, the team is disqualified.
We watched several races go by between teams from the community and local schools (there are also international professional teams as well, but we didn't catch their races). It was thrilling to be in the crowd, everyone tensed, shouting "加油！加油!" as the boats whizzed by to the beat of the drums. After an hour and a half, we got hot and decided to wander to Lugang's old street to find some refreshment and new entertainment.
Our first stop was the Chrysanthemum Art Village, where we used stores selling calligraphy, leather work and wood carvings for their AC. But one of the shops caught our eye. It sold decorative fans, and as we watched, a few small children were decorating their own fans with a unique dying process. This process, which as far as I can tell is called marbling, dates back to 12th century Japanese practice called suminagashi or"floating ink". The technique involves floating pigment on a gelatinous liquid, swirling the colors with simple tools, then transferring the pattern to paper or fabric. In 15th century Turkey, marbled papers were used for official documents because the uniques patterns couldn't be forged. Eventually it spread to different art work, and so we found ourselves sitting down to marble some fans.
We were able to choose a few colors, spreading them out in different patterns and then taking a small pick to swirl the colors into feathers, flowers or other patterns. Afterward, the fan was slowly pressed through the liquid and the dye transferred to the paper. While we stood drying our newly printed fans, Emily and I compared our techniques. We both agreed that a second try would yield much better results, but tabled it for a later day. After a rather awkward photoshoot arranged by the shop owner (where she physically moved our bodies into positions) we walked out of the shop with new, much needed fans.
We wandered through the shops of Old Street, stopping occasionally to look at trinkets. We reached bit of a bottleneck where many people were gathered around playing on a row of pinball machines. Ricky's brother handed us all a $10 coin and everyone played a round. On my turn, I ended up getting a winning number. Ricky's brother banged on a gong on the table and a flustered man appear, slapped down a coupon for a sausage and then disappeared. We grabbed the coupon, moved down the lane a bit and in the process of trading it in, were met by a very excited woman who spoke her best English to say hello, pulled Emily and I over to a sign, gave us watermelon slices and gave rapid fire instructions in Chinese (she was telling us to follow her facebook page). We all gathered at the entrance to Old Street and ate our spoils.
By this point, walking through the heat all day had drained us, and it wasn't dark enough to see the pretty lights, so we went back to Ricky's house to rest for a while. We ate dinner with the whole family, where I fielded some questions about the upcoming US election, Trump and America's coronavirus response (all in Chinese. None of my classes prepared me for this). We started watching a family favorite American movie (The Day After Tomorrow) that neither I or Emily had heard of, but was apparently a big hit when it came out in Taiwan in 2004. Then at around 8, we headed back out to see the lights.
The main road leading to the Matzu temple was strung with lanterns and decorations. Despite it being late evening, the air was still hot, so we opted for a Taiwan specialty ice cream burrito, which is two scoops of ice cream on a thin crepe, with shaved caramelized peanuts and sometimes if you're feeling bold, cilantro. It was the perfect sweet treat as we wandered through the temple, weaving between worshippers and peering into each shrine.
When I think of my time in Asia, this is the image that comes to mind. Walking through a temple in the evening, sticky with sweat, but cooler than you've been all day. Street food in one hand, a camera in the other. Incense burning at an alter, the smell saturating the air. The hushed peace of a temple courtyard. Good friends by your side. A happy, worn out smile on your face. A sense of being right where you are meant to be.