A Wrangell Traffic Jam (New Year's Eve 2005)
No one does fireworks like the Chinese, nor does anyone else appreciate them like the Chinese with their simultaneous expressions of awe and wonderment. National Day in Hong Kong is one holiday that calls for a huge display of fireworks and if you don’t desire braving the human traffic that is unique to the city you’re better off watching them from home on the television. Unless of course you know someone who has tickets to view the fireworks from the Great Eagle Center in Wan Chai, which is what I was able to do October 2004. Because he was working at the Danish Consulate, Martin was able to invite a group of us to view the display from the 25th floor of the building. This allowed us a clear view free of the masses of people who all swarmed below us in droves of moving heads the size of pinpoints. We knew we would have to be part of the swarm when it was all over, but for that time being we felt privileged and excited.
I meant to mention Hong Kong only as a basis of comparison to the fireworks I saw tonight in Wrangell, Alaska. I didn’t mean to go on that long. As great and as spectacular as they were, that night at the Great Eagle Center we viewed the fireworks from a distance; a distance created by the number of spectators and by the height of the building. We were indeed watching a display, a well choreographed display that was deserving of the awes of wonderment.
Tonight, we stood bundled up from the cold, our necks arched back to the point of aching. Tonight, the fireworks were on top of us. There were no swarming droves, only small groups of friends or family who stood next to the Nolan center by the water to watch the fireworks sparkle, fizzle, and fade. A group of seated, huddled teenage girls provided a soundtrack of supportive and excited squeals. Having just returned from San Francisco a few hours earlier, I foolishly wore Birkenstocks to the event and tried to pretend my toes weren’t freezing.
After the fireworks ended we pulled out of our parking spot into what is considered a Wrangell traffic jam – about ten or twelve cars lined up. As I learned, a Wrangell traffic jam is a bi-annual occurrence just about, happening on New Years Eve and for the 4th of July. The 4th is supposed to be huge here with a July 4th queen, a town wide tug of war, amongst other activities I’m looking forward to. While we sat in the car waiting the few minutes it took for the traffic to clear up, I laughed as the others made jokes about it. Small-town Alaskans definitely recognize they live a far different life than most other Americans.
New Years Resolutions. I resolve to be happier – to make friends in what appears to be a vast desert of social opportunity, to get over a certain boy so we can stop hurting each other, and to do Pilates at least three times a week.
I meant to mention Hong Kong only as a basis of comparison to the fireworks I saw tonight in Wrangell, Alaska. I didn’t mean to go on that long. As great and as spectacular as they were, that night at the Great Eagle Center we viewed the fireworks from a distance; a distance created by the number of spectators and by the height of the building. We were indeed watching a display, a well choreographed display that was deserving of the awes of wonderment.
Tonight, we stood bundled up from the cold, our necks arched back to the point of aching. Tonight, the fireworks were on top of us. There were no swarming droves, only small groups of friends or family who stood next to the Nolan center by the water to watch the fireworks sparkle, fizzle, and fade. A group of seated, huddled teenage girls provided a soundtrack of supportive and excited squeals. Having just returned from San Francisco a few hours earlier, I foolishly wore Birkenstocks to the event and tried to pretend my toes weren’t freezing.
After the fireworks ended we pulled out of our parking spot into what is considered a Wrangell traffic jam – about ten or twelve cars lined up. As I learned, a Wrangell traffic jam is a bi-annual occurrence just about, happening on New Years Eve and for the 4th of July. The 4th is supposed to be huge here with a July 4th queen, a town wide tug of war, amongst other activities I’m looking forward to. While we sat in the car waiting the few minutes it took for the traffic to clear up, I laughed as the others made jokes about it. Small-town Alaskans definitely recognize they live a far different life than most other Americans.
New Years Resolutions. I resolve to be happier – to make friends in what appears to be a vast desert of social opportunity, to get over a certain boy so we can stop hurting each other, and to do Pilates at least three times a week.
posted by Siapiau | 10:47 PM
|
0 comments
