Reitaku Christmas Special/A day at the Beijing Opera

So Xmas has finally arrived here in Taiwan, though it generally just feels like any other weekend for me. Of course, these days I’m more concerned about my upcoming jaunts to Japan and China.

The Reitaku residence management-type people, ie the Taiwanese, organized a Xmas party on the 25th, although it began to feel more little a Halloween séance. Why you ask? How could the innocent Taiwanese come up with such a thing on Christmas? Let me put this way. First, were forbidden from entering the basement until all the ceremonial equipment was in the proper astrological alignment (or just covering up the leak from the broken pipe in the wall by the bathroom). Second, we were allowed to enter only one by one, with numbers being attached to each hand as we progressed through the doorway and were each given a plate of sacrificial wafers and Devil’s food cake. Once all had gathered in the room, three virgins (I think) wearing red medieval hats, and one the amputated horns of a reindeer began the introduction to the ceremony. This was followed by the playing of a series of quick shots of various members in the room, in rapid succession mixed with some dialogue, which was interrupted mysteriously, turning off completely by itself (perhaps because of a mischievous spirit in the room or because of the aforementioned leaky pipe which has been known to create inexplicable large pools in the wires under the television, though perhaps these were also due to a mischievous spirit with a weak bladder.) Next, we assembled into two interwoven, pentacle-like circles, and were instructed to dance a series of moves, exchanging partners and moving about in the circle, which were wholly incomprehensible to any mortal. When the dancing was done, all were given a candle, and with the lights out, we placed them at our feet around the circle, creating the atmosphere of a Wiccan airport landing strip, as we began chanting in Chinese. I do not know the words exactly, that were spoken that fateful night, but generally they can be translated as this:
“SANTA….. SAN----TA------…… SANTA, We summon thee!…. Come into our presence, SANTA----….. SANTA we beseech thee….Come!”(I would like to point out here, as Dana Carvey so cleverly pointed-out as “The Church Lady” on SNL so many years ago, that Santa is a clever anagram of another famous figure from Judeo-Christian mythology, whose name you can get by simply moving the N to end of Santa’s name.) The chanting continued for some minutes in the darkness, until we were reassembled in the shame of a pentagram, while some including myself were instructed to close our eyes less we be driven to madness by the horrific sights that no doubt lay out before us. Shao tin, the residence manager and high-priest of mystical activities, was also blindfolded but continued to lead the service, reciting a series of verses, the only part I was able to decipher, with the aid of an undercover Czech translator, was the word “touch” or “touched” that was used with a great deal of frequency. Suddenly, music became playing from nowhere, and in the doorway stood an eerie figure, clad only in red his face obscured in beard. He looked the type of creature that would do things like elicit young children to sit on his knee, but then he also looked like Kevin, the guy who usually fixes everyone’s computer. Surely Kevin would never be involved in such unholy acts! Though I had once caught him dressed as a dead and bloody cat with an old picture frame, this time he did not seem like himself. He seemed to speaking with voice of another…like he was possessed by the spirit of Christmas itself!
Unfortunately, I had not the proper means to perform an exorcism with me, having left my jars of mustard back in Canada. I was forced to continue with the collective ritual, as Santa-ized Kevin began summoning people forward, replacing the numbers written on our hands with scrolls marked with even more numbers (A numerical labyrinth only the Chinese could devise!). This in turn led to package, and there was a package for all in attendance, each carrying within it’s protective shell an object, or objects, of great spiritual and metaphysical significance…including keroro slippers and a jar of maple syrup. I received a most peculiar puzzle, the bringer of which remains unknown to this day, which consisted of a Swiss prism, cleverly disguised by sinful temptations (yes, it was indeed chocolate) that have since mysteriously vanished.
Merely hours after the appearance of the Santa figure in Kevin’s body, when the exchange of totems had been completed, many members of the assembly began to vanish from the room. The Europeans were struck first, dematerializing from the area soon after the Santa had finished his sermon. Were they teleported to a plane of dreams? To the realm of vampires? Or just to their rooms upstairs, it is impossible to know for certain.
The Japanese and the Taiwanese girls began to scream, almost to the point of gaiety, as they attacked each other with flashes of bright light while flashing two upright fingers, a hand gesture from the occult no doubt, whose meaning I have yet to surmise.This was not the first time the Japanese had engaged in such activity, in fact it is a rather common occurrence at most Reitaku events. A few began to raise aloft an inflated object than appeared to be in the shape of a human heart.
It was around this time that I made my escape…

…And so the next day, I went to the Beijing Opera, which, for those of you who don’t know, is opera from Beijing. While I was looking forward to inhuman screeching and the sensation of a new layer building within seconds inside my ear, I was instead surprised to find it quite easy to listen to, dare I say beautiful, if not possible for me to understand entirely. I did pick up a few words, like “Mao Mao” which was either a reference to the late Chairman or a call for more catfood. The costumes were very ornate silk enjewelled masterpieces of Chinese traditional stereotypes, but authentic and mesmerizing to the eye to say the least. The singing was quite good, and made me realize how important tones are to Chinese song as well as speech, though I do not know if this bit of Chinese culture is still fostered in the youth, who like their Western counterparts, stay away from the opera in droves. The story, which was hotly contested by those I attended the play with, generally revolved around an Emperor and an important concubine, who seems to fall in love with the emperor, get rejected by him or something, get depressed and commit suicide, and then inspire said emperor to seek her out in the dreamworld where he says “hey, how ‘bout that date after all? You do’n anything this Friday? Oh right, busy being dead and all…” At least this is how the usher explained it to me, though the program said it was based on a historic episode where the adopted son of the concubine commits treason and thus the court kills her for revenge or something. Either way, sucks to be a concubine I guess. In any case, the opera is chockfull of sorrowfilled wailing over lost love, not unlike some of what I hear around here at the residence but that’s another story. At any rate, it was a beautiful thing to watch, even if the story was a little bit weak…like the Lion King musical. They say anyone who visits China/Taiwan should at least see one, and I agree to that as it was definitely not the chalkboard scratching, ear drum-bursting gong-fest the Lonely Planet implied it to be. Though perhaps that’s because I was wisely not given the stage.

Alright everyone, I’m going away for a few weeks so I don’t know how often I’ll update my blog, but I’ll try to be more regular (When it comes to my past record, I don’t know if I could be any less regular). Thank you for your feedback, those who have given it, and you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Peace to the world, yo!