Spending spree marks China’s New Year

Press, 8 February 1986, Page 28

Spending spree marks China’s New Year

NZPA-Reuter Peking Ancient and ultra-mod-em attractions are jostling for the Chinese consumer’s attention and money as the country flings itself into a Lunar New Year spending spree. The two-week Spring Festival celebration, which reaches its climax at the Chinese New Year on February 9, got off to a raucously merry start with a traditional fair in freezing sunshine in Peking’s Earth Altar park. A deafening volley of fire crackers and blaring brass bands greeted the arrival of giant figures, among them a duck, a pot-bellied pig and a Buddhist monk on a white steed, all drawn from the classical Chinese novel “Journey to the West.” “They used to tell us these things were feudal, but now they are all coming back,” said one man, admiring the once familiar images seldom seen since the Cultural Revolution of the late 1960 s officially banished many folk customs.

Signs of China’s other “journey to the West” — its leap into modernisation — were everywhere as 60,000 people crammed through narrow alleys where rival private enterprise stallholders hawked

their wares. Hungry fairgoers could sample traditional dishes such as baodu, made from a sheep’s stomach, or guanchang — sausage casing stuffed with starch, fried and dipped in soya sauce laced with garlic. They could also sample fast-fried chicken and hamburgers or takeaway boxes of Peking duck guaranteed on the cover to be “crisp, tender and delicious.”

Magicians and storytellers performed to packed audiences in an oldfashioned teahouse, while spectators elsewhere played video games. Busy stallholders used electronic pocket calculators to add up customers’ bills as they snapped up books, games, clothing and sweets, or pored over pricey televisions sets and radios. ‘T’ve done lots of overtime, so we can celebrate in style — my two boys get so greedy at spring festival,” said one Peking worker (official average pay $5B a month) as his sons tackled metre-long sticks of sugar-coated fruit.

A four-metre greeneyed plaster tiger presided at one fair entrance, promising that the new Chinese year of the Tiger

would be full of vitality. People seeking extra verve could check a nearby stall which stocked imported books about disco dancing, announcing “a revolutionary approach to being a hit on a Saturday night.” Elsewhere in Peking, and throughout China, people joined in the spree of buying presents and preparing for long journeys to visit relatives. Cyclists coming home from the shops became even more of a traffic hazard than usual as they dangled live chickens from their handlebars or towed carts bearing precious cargo such as refrigerators. The ruling Communist Party, concerned to prevent its officials from taking advantage of the festival to host large, expensive banquets for each other, issued strict regulations requiring them to be frugal in their celebrations.

Police and public transport officials, anxious to cut down on the usual New Year spate of fires and burning accidents, have already confiscated 17 million fireworks illegally carried on trains and buses, Radio Peking said.