The Harvest Moon Festival

The Harvest Moon Festival

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The Legend

No one can be sure of the origin of the Harvest Moon Festival (also known as the Mid-Autumn Festival). The origin was romanticised by the legendary story of Chang Er, who was believed to have taken a pill, become a fairy and flown to the moon to escape from the pursuit of her husband. It was thought that we could see Chang Er on the moon when it is at its brightest in mid-autumn (i.e. the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar). The exact date in the Western calendar changes from year to year but it is approximately in September. /

The Chinese Moon Festival dates back to the Tang dynasty 618 A.D. and celebrates the biggest and brightest full moon of the year, the harvest moon.

As with many Chinese celebrations, there are ancient legends to explain the holiday. The Chinese were, and still are, an agricultural society. In ancient times, they planted and harvested by the lunar calendar, using the moon as an important time reference and guide.

One of the legends about the Moon Festival is about a builder or architect named Hou Yi. Hou Yi built a beautiful jade palace for the Goddess of the Western Heaven, sometimes called the Royal Mother. The Goddess was so happy that she gave Hou Yi a special pill that contained the magic elixir of immortality. But with it came the condition and warning that he may not use the pill until he had accomplished certain things.

Hou Yi had a beautiful wife named Chang-e was as curious as she was beautiful. One day she found the pill and without telling her husband, she swallowed it. The Goddess of the Western Heaven was very angry and as a punishment, Chang-e was banished to the moon where, according to the legend, she can be seen at her most beautiful on the night of the bright harvest moon.

The Moon Festival is a big holiday with family reunions, moon gazing activities, and feasting on "moon cakes" which are round pastries filled with red bean paste, fruit or jam. Dragon and lion dances, whose origins also date back to ancient China, are wonderful dances done during festivals, especially exciting are the dragon and lion dances.

Legend says the dragon dance was invented to stop the spread of epidemics, sickness and disease. Over the years it evolved into a folk activity. The lion dance was originally used for worship and to pray for rain, but now the dance is used for entertainment. The lion chases a scampering clown, who dodges from left to right, jumping to and fro to make fun of the lion.

And outside the little city where our stories are set:

Tian[1] Mei looks up at the pock-marked ceiling. It is early and the cooler and darker mornings make her more reluctant to get up than usual. She stirs carefully in order not to wake little sister Xiaxia and parents all still asleep on the warm kang. It is barely light but then with great delight she remembers the book her teacher has lent her, which she has tucked underneath her seed-filled pillow. He said that even though she can’t go to school anymore, she can look at the book and he will collect it some time after the holiday. Hastily she retrieves the by-now grubby volume and turns to her favourite story of the moment, picking out the characters slowly with her finger-tip and mouthing the sounds as her teacher has taught her to:

In this legend, three fairy sages transformed themselves into pitiful old men and begged for something to eat from a fox, a monkey and a rabbit. The fox and the monkey both had food to give to the old men, but the rabbit, empty-handed, offered his own flesh instead, jumping into a blazing fire to cook himself. The sages were so touched by the rabbit's sacrifice that they let him live in the Moon Palace where he became the "Jade Rabbit." She sighs and traces the outline of the rabbit in the picture, tears at the rabbit’s fate. She turns to Xiaxia, but of course she is not there anymore.

Bai[2] Mei wakes with a thrill at the thought of the Moon Festival. Perhaps this year she will have a taste of a mooncake. She missed last year. No one gave her one, despite pressing her face against every cake shop in the town, sending Meimei to look beseechingly at the richer customers as they entered and left the shops. This year feels different, though, and she looks over at Bai Jun who is sleeping fitfully. Since that scare with his sore chest he has been altogether quieter. He is losing weight as well, she thinks again, but loses the thought as Huang Weipingg rolls the wheels of his new tricycle cart over Meimei’s wrist, causing her to wake with a high-pitched squeal. The little girl pulls her limb away, ricocheting herself into Bai Mei’s arms. The older girl gets up hastily to remonstrate with the man, who is not callous, merely busy and tired. She shouts at him, proferring Meimei’s wrist as evidence of his fault, the smaller girl squealing in horror at the movement. He shakes his head wearily, and bends down to look at the injured limb. It looks bad he admits to himself and the child is whimpering in shock, little whelps of sound, puncturing the early morning air, trembling violently with pain. But what can he be expected to do? He’s so busy since Ho Yanhui started to work in that shop instead, saying her legs couldn’t take all that standing [user_moth1]! And she’s so young still, the hussy, he thinks in irritation as Meimei whimpers at his feet.

At the early telephone call, Professor Wang draws on his robe and goes out into the hallway to pick up the receiver. It is Wenjing. Of course! Who else would call at this hour? ‘Grandfather!’ she has to shout at him because of the crackly line. ‘Happy Moon Festival! I am sorry to call so early but we have some extra classes today because a dignitary from the Beijing government is coming after the weekend and we must clean and decorate the buildings. We will all go into the Big Hall and there are to be dances and some drama and music. I am a dancer.’ ‘That’s wonderful! Are you well? Your mother wants to know if you are wearing enough warm clothes?’ Wang Huilin stands by her father-in-law’s elbow, issuing instructions to him by the moment, so that he can scarcely hear Wenjing. ‘And what are your classmates like? Are they from good homes?’ ‘I am very happy, Grandfather!’ Wenjing replies with a smile. She can picture the domestic scene, her mother pestering her grandfather and he suffering it with an inner smile as always. She feels a momentary sadness that she cannot spend this festival with her family, but then her new friend Cao Xia passes her on the way to the washrooms and reminds her that they have exercise early this morning because of the visitor from Beijing. There’s lot to do, come on! ‘Got to go Grandfather!’ she says. ‘Love you!’ The line crackles emptily.

Wu Lian looks around the breakfast table at her family. Wu Ying is very small, she registers again. It’s worrying her these days. He’s nine years old but he looks about six. But he eats prodigiously. She shakes her head, hoping that he’ll be one of these children who’ll have a growth spurt in adolescence. It happens like that sometimes. Look at Wu Guancan. He’s huge now despite being small as a child as well apparently. Wu Lian smiles. She wonders what the foreign teacher is doing for the Moon Festival. Perhaps she should invite her over, but she’s probably busy. And anyway I am so busy, I can’t manage everything. She likes to be on her own. They’re very independent in the West. Wu Ying finishes his meal, leaves the table, walking behind his mother and pulling her long hair viciously before running out into the yard. His laughter rings out against the cool early morning air. She should check his behaviour, she knows that. He is becoming increasingly bad-tempered and naughty. He knows she won’t check him. If only Wu Guancan would be stricter, but she has to do everything. One of these days that lad is going to go wrong. That incident in school was serious, and the most worrying thing of all is that such a thing stays on his record forever. And he doesn’t seem sorry at all. Just insolent and secretive. Wu Lian sighs. If only Wu Guancan were around more, but he seems to have unending responsibilities in his new job. Travelling here, and there. Representing the new city committee in crucial talks in Yinchuan. She wonders whether she will ever get her husband back the way he used to be. Sitting together of an evening, reading the newspaper together, talking about the future development of China. But all that seems well in the past now.

Han Shaowei slurps his noodles[user_moth2], holding his bowl close to his face, shoveling the aromatic and greasy food quickly, without pause, into his mouth. Then he quaffs a mouthful of beer, and sits back contentedly in his chair, rubbing his stomach. Han Jung, his wife, clears away the bowl. ‘You haven’t forgotten we’re visiting Chen Hui this morning,’ she says to him over her shoulder, on the way to scrub the plates and clothes in the yard. ‘Hardly, dear,’ he mutters to himself, ‘seeing as you’ve mentioned it four times already this morning!’ A pause. ‘Yes dear!’ he replies, louder this time. ‘Good thing that Zhang Fengjun came up with the money for the treatment. How much is it costing anyway?’ Han Jung shouts through to him. ‘About two thousand yuan I heard,’ replies Shaowei, and more softly, ‘as I think we’ve already discussed several times. And anyway, he can afford it, that one.’ He smiles though and goes outside to the pavement in front of his small building. Oh dear, some commotion with those beggars again, looking towards where the screams are coming from. Another accident with the children. They really ought to be more careful. A liability they are. He sets up his mahjong table, but he doesn’t hold out much hope he’ll get much of a game now. He doesn’t these days, not since Chen Hui got really ill. People offer, but it’s not the same somehow. Sometimes Han Shaowei plays for a while just to keep his hand in, but it lacks something. Shared memories perhaps.

Anna stretches. Wonderful! A whole week off work. Most people are going away and she is left to a week of reading, writing, walking and relaxing. By herself. She’s sanguine about it, but realizes it might become a bit of an ordeal. Ah well, she has Dao Ming to cheer her days. Little pickle has a new red dress for Moon Festival and a picture she looks in it too. All dimples and charm. The other campus children are more forthcoming these days, greeting her in English, asking how she is, running up to greet her. Yesterday, Dao Ming shouted An-ni-a and ran after her, holding out her arms and jumping up at her. With two bags of shopping, crashing to the ground, crushing her eggs in the process, Anna caught the child and hugged her close. Her Chinese isn’t up to explaining to Dao Ming about broken eggs, and anyway, what are broken eggs in comparison with this child’s love? She swings her legs out of bed and shuffles to the kitchen, opening the fridge and drawing out some mooncakes wrapped in cellophane. A cup of coffee, two mooncakes and some music for breakfast. That should do it.

What is it her mother has said to her this morning? ‘I always knew it would work out like this for you. You’ve always had ideas above your station, my girl. Everyone knows it. And now you are doing what everyone else has always known is right. I just hope Xu Yong and his family can forgive you for being so difficult and taking so long to make up your mind.’ Feng Xuelin has to get out of the house this morning. One more word from her mother and she will scream. She used to think if she said she would marry Xu Yong, perhaps the pestering would stop, but if anything it has become worse. Now all her past sins from an early age are being paraded before her and any relatives who happen to be staying, in order to draw the conclusion it seems, that the Xu family are indeed gracious and good to accept her at all, and that not many families would, after what she put them through waiting all that long spring and summer. A wedding after Spring Festival is being planned by the families and Feng Xuelin cannot for one moment feel a degree of interest in her future life. She will be pleased to stop the wagging tongues of malice and gossip, but other than that she anticipates no happiness from the union. She doesn’t even particularly want children in a country which has too many already, she thinks. Why have children anyway? [user_moth3]She wraps herself warmly against the chilly Autumn air and ventures out to buy some mooncakes. At least she can do that right.

Ma[user_moth4][3] Fengyin welcomes Ho Yanhui to the shop. She’s perfectly on time again, standing at the doorway, shaking her umbrella outwards from the brief shower and the clots of dust. This is a good sign, he thinks. An employee with consideration and style. And he needs someone he can rely on now that his wife is heavily pregnant with their second child. She clearly considers herself as moving up in the world by having a job in a shop instead of at a stall. He understands that Huang Weiping is doing well for himself. They never really had enough money to keep two families going on the one stall. She greets him and immediately sits at the desk at the back of the shop, taking out the ledger from the drawer and checking the totals for sales for the previous two weeks. He likes her efficiency. ‘Perhaps we can move that to the front more,’ she says to Ma Fengyin, closing the ledger with a sense of her own effectiveness in this little business, indicating a few posters he has managed to acquire from Beijing about the Mid-Autumn Festival, showing some poems by Li Bai and Li Qiao. ‘Which one do you like better?’ he asks her. This one: ‘The Yo-Mei Mountain Moon’, by Li Bai – he recites it:

The autumn moon is half round above the Yo-mei Mountain;

The pale light falls in and flows

With the water of the Ping-chiang River.

Tonight I leave Ching-chi

Of limpid stream for the three Canyons.

And glide down past Yu-chow, thinking of you

Whom I cannot see.

Or this one: ‘The Mid-Autumn Moon’, by Li Qiao. His voice enters the early silence of the day with a melancholy resonance.

A full moon hangs high in the chilly sky,

All say it's the same everywhere, round and bright.

But how can one be sure thousands of li away

Wind and perhaps rain may not be marring the night?

‘Oh the first one I think, don’t you?’ she says with a smile, gazing into his eyes. He nearly blushes, but saves himself at the last minute, turning his head away. ‘So much more romantic and interesting than the second, I always think. And students, we all know what they’re like. All work and no play as they say in the West!’ She laughs her bright laugh. She raises her eyebrows at the incline of his neck away from her. Well, he has some good ideas, she considers, but mine are better, and he really is a silly man. As if she would flirt with him! His wife is pregnant and she’s married herself. He’s rather arrogant! ‘Yes,’ he replies, ‘you’re right. I am glad I employed you, Ho Yanhui. You are a good saleswoman.’ Together they clear a space. ‘What about putting them facing out onto the street through the window? I think that would be distinctive.’ ‘Yes,’ Ma Fengyin says, musing to himself that he needs to keep an eye on her for her own good. She’ll go far, but only as long as she doesn’t become too pushy with it. He likes her spirit, however, and today she is wearing an attractive sweater, with glittery material that catches the glints of the sun and magnifies them in tiny explosions of colour. Yes, it was a good day when she came into his shop.