Afte r experiencing life in China for some years, one eventually comes to the conclusion that that Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) is best celebrated outside of the big cities, where less is more. The small village of Lufang in Daxing District, south of Beijing is well known as the area that produces Beijing’s watermelons. The district is made up of over 550 villages and is a fusion of rural ochre brick, dirt roads and three-wheel trucks.

At Spring Festival time the village dusts itself off and rolls out a faded red carpet for visitors. On arrival our group was welcomed with dynamite sized firecrackers and it took several waves of greeting to ensure they realized we came in peace, but the blasts continued. Suddenly the bombing stopped to be replaced by the ear-piercing horns, drums and cymbals that accompany the traditional yangge Lunar New Year dance. A swarm of villagers dressed in bright yellow, blue, pink and green costumes leapt forward in greeting. Some danced using props like the waist drum, dancing fan or fake donkey, all expressing happiness. Their faces were painted, but their smiles were authentic. It all got a bit crazy – dancers whirling about, drummers going ballistic, crowds of curious farmers pressing forward, everyone pushing and bumping trying to get a photo of the visiting foreigners.

So much for getting away from the city to experience a quieter more authentic Spring Festival. A woman dressed as a man, with a huge false mustache stuck up her nose grabs the hand of my colleague and yanks him into the middle of the road to dance. She must have been working out because she almost ripped his arm off.

Exhausted dancers eventually took a break and what followed was a display of rather bizarre events from a somewhat distinguished looking gentleman, who, after connecting with his inner life force, proceeded to cut chopsticks with banknotes and break bricks using a glass cup. Kungfu antics concluded, the call for lunch brought all other activities to a halt. Jiaozi (dumplings) at this time of year are a culinary tradition and having the opportunity to sample this favorite treat with a group of farmers is a unique experience. Visitors crowded into a modest farmhouse, sipping endless cups of green tea served by giggling family members and surrounded by fruit, peanuts and sunflower seeds, made quite a spectacle.

The TV set blared out a kungfu epic at high volume as giant bowls of steaming jiaozi and the essential vinegar dip materialized. One after another jiaozi disappear down throats and any sign of hesitation was squashed by the sergeant major-esque lady of the house. Stomachs extended and exiting into the chilly air, the village paper man appeared to display his skills. The jovial craftsman spends his time making paper funeral effigies of donkeys, bulls, cell phones, TVs – anything of value the deceased would find useful in the next life. Villagers begin to make coffins and prepare for the death of their parents very early in life, and the paper effigies are burnt along with the cremation ceremony, providing fortune in the afterlife.

An interesting and fortunate day in this life and a chance to cross the cultural divide in a simple setting. Sharing with those who have little, is the true nature of friendship.