CHEUNG CHOW LONG ISLAND
143
painted to the eyes, and clad in gay garments. Behind these a band of native musicians, youths dressed in gaudy clothes, provide the melody and rhythm. The dragon shakes his head and stamps his feet to the rhythm, the bearers grunt and sweat, the musicians fiddle and bang and blow, the spectators spit and chew, laugh and talk, admire and applaud. The last player disappears round a bend in the street and another procession begins to form itself with much good-natured chaff and chatter. Meantime the dragon processions which have already been sent off wander through the distant fields, and the curious rhythm of the dance rises and falls in every corner of the glens.
So much we have seen for ourselves, but our kind host, who has lived on the island for many years, tells us that on the great day of the feast, all the small processions meet at the special matshed, where are assembled also some of the local gods, as well as visiting deities who have been brought by the folk from other towns and villages. All these gods are then carried in procession to the Pak Tai Temple to make their how to the occupant. Following this they are carried about a mile to the temple of the Queen of Heaven, the Lady of the fisherfolk, through the streets densely packed with fishermen and townsfolk, and thousands of visitors. At this temple the processions stand aside, and the gods in their chairs of state are raced back to the special matshed. The first god to arrive, even if he arrives in several pieces, brings to his devoted supporters the best of luck during the year.
In the afternoon the cones are overturned and there is a scramble for the cakes, which are then eaten with the happiest consequences for all concerned. It would be interesting to hear more exactly what these benefits are, for the whole feast looks like an ancient fertility cult.
We are much indebted in this account to notes jotted down by Mr. A. C. Franklin, and kindly put at our disposal. The opportunity to witness the Moon-cake festival was also due to his kindness. If we have not reproduced all the interesting and suggestive comments which those notes contain, it is because we hope that he will find time to throw them into literary form and publish them. Meantime we would welcome corrections, and an elucidation of the meaning of the feast from our students, some of whom might well take time to visit Cheung Chow for that purpose.
CHEUNG CHOW LONG ISLAND
143
painted to the eyes, and clad in gay garments. Behind these a band of native musicians, youths dressed in gaudy clothes, provide the melody and rhythm. The dragon shakes his head and stamps his feet to the rhythm, the bearers grunt and sweat, the musicians fiddle and bang and blow, the spectators spit and chew, laugh and talk, admire and applaud. The last player disappears round a bend in the street and another procession begins to form itself with much good natured chaff and chatter. Meantime the dragon processions which have already been sent off wander through the distant fields, and the curious rhythm of the dance rises and falls in every corner of the glens.
So much we have seen for ourselves, but our kind host, who has lived on the island for many years, tells us that on the great day of the feast, all the small processions meet at the special matshed, where are assembled also some of the local gods, as well as visiting deities who have been brought by the folk from other towns and villages. All these gods are then carried in procession to the Pak Tai Temple to make their how to the occupant. Following this they are carried about a mile to the temple of the Queen of Heaven, the Lady of the fisherfolk, through the streets densely packed with fishermen and townsfolk, and thousands of visitors. At this temple the processions stand aside, and the gods in their chairs of state are raced back to the special matshed. The first god to arrive, even if he arrives in several pieces, brings to his devoted supporters the best of luck during the year.
In the afternoon the cones are overturned and there is a scramble for the cakes, which are then eaten with the happiest consequences for all concerned. It would be interesting to hear more exactly what these benefits are, for the whole feast looks like an ancient fertility cult.
We are much indebted in this account to notes jotted down by Mr. A. C. Franklin, and kindly put at our disposal. The opportunity to witness the Moon-cake festival was also due to his kindness. If we have not reproduced all the interesting and suggestive comments which those notes contain, it is because we hope that he will find time to throw them into literary form and publish them. Meantime we would welcome corrections, and an clucidation of the meaning of the feast from our students, some of whom might well take time to visit Cheung Chow for that purpose.
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