that one

Hualien isn’t big, though it can sometimes seem so, linked as it is to Ji-An to the south and, heading north, to the string of villages which make up Hsin-Cheng. Since Hualien is a low-rise city, the boundaries between it and its close neighbours are not all that obvious. It’s good to get a feel for where one is, so we were happy to head south for a couple of miles on Thursday night to the centre of Ji-An to join the traditional celebrations for lantern festival, the end of the two-week New Year period.

Thronged with people, the two temples and the night market which connects them were alive with noise and colour. Both temples and a large stage were brightly lit and hung with hundreds of yellow lanterns. The whole area was almost rattling with the racket of recorded music, public announcements, the calls of food vendors and the crashes and pops of the fireworks going off directly overhead.

There were plenty of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ too. Not just for the fireworks, but also over the launching of traditional paper lanterns. This was the first time I had seen this activity at close hand – the writing of wishes on the surprisingly flimsy paper, the lighting of the fuel-soaked pad, and the patient wait for the lantern to fill with warm air. Perhaps the wishes being sent skyward were what gave each lantern its individual character; I noticed that the more athletic among them headed rapidly, and almost vertically up into the darkness. Others – perhaps those bearing the weight-loss sentiments so frequently heard at the end of New Year – lolled and lurched to a rising-falling vocal accompaniment from the crowd. These insisted on crinkling themselves up against the prickly eaves and gables of the temple gateway and roofs before sloping off, seemingly wishing they could hang around longer among the bright lights, happy faces and contented stomachs of the celebrations below.