JUNE 20 — I woke up on Wednesday morning to thumping drum beats coming from far below.
It was the morning of the annual Dragon Boat Festival or Tuen Ng and we were right next to the Aberdeen leg of the dragon boat race.
From as early as March we had been entertained by deep booming shouts of “Yat, yee, sam (one, two, three)!” coming from the dark waters as paddlers speedily negotiated fishing vessels large and small in the cover of night.
These dedicated men and women practice after work hours and on weekends, through rain and the chilly spring nights.
We would often see deeply tanned people get off at our bus stop carrying paddles in special covers and backpacks made from water-resistant tarpaulin-like material. They come from all walks of life, from leathery-skinned fishermen to bookish university students.
Just a week ago, the Aberdeen Promenade began taking on a new look when a makeshift bamboo grandstand was erected. From a distance it looked like one of those matchstick formations my cousins and I used to create over dinner in Chinese restaurants.
I decided to check out the goings-on in my watery backyard that Wednesday afternoon and for a change, willingly left the dry air-conditioned comfort of my apartment for the cesspool of sweat and grime that has been Hong Kong this past week.
A quick check with the Hong Kong Observatory website showed that the relative humidity was 86 per cent (high discomfort) and the temperature 32C (both combined make for a giant sauna experience. Clothes resemble a wet dishcloth within five minutes of stepping out).
Fortunately the wind had picked up after the morning rain. It was quite a sight to see the colourful flags emblazoned with Chinese characters (name of sponsor companies, like So-and-so Engineering Company) flapping against the dark cloudy sky.
The narrow strip of water that is known as the Aberdeen Typhoon Shelter was lined with mid-sized fishing boats-turned spectator stands, sampan and the long, narrow dragon boats.
The festival goes back more than two thousand years where people have been eating rice dumplings to commemorate the death of a scholar named Qu Yuan who drowned in protest against political corruption.
Legend has it that villagers raced to save him in their boats, throwing rice dumplings into the water, beating on drums and splashing the water with their paddles to keep fish from nibbling at his body.
Today, the festival has taken on a highly competitive edge with boat races held at various locations around the city including Stanley Beach, Tai Po, Sha Tin, Tuen Mun, Lamma Island and Discovery Bay.
Stanley Beach is the place to go for partygoers as the largely expatriate area and participating teams added a lively atmosphere with their fancy costumes (sharks, panda bears) and plenty of alcohol.
Aberdeen, on the other hand, is more a neighbourhood event with many families showing up with grandparents and babies in tow. Still there was no shortage of commercialism in Aberdeen with rowers togged out in jerseys emblazoned with big-name sponsors.
There were 70 teams made up of 1,800 athletes competing in 35 races between 9am and 4pm. When we arrived at noon, a race was about to start. With the blast of a horn, pace drummers called the stroke with pounding beats from their position at the front of the boat.
I watched in awe as the dragon heads nudged forward, each boat elegantly skimming the waters, belying the immense human power involved.
Months before I had seen rowers lovingly sand, polish and repaint their boats which are stored year-round near my apartment. Now they were here, in all their colourful, shining glory.
The action was not just in the water; everywhere I looked, there was something interesting to see. Competitors taking their lunch break on a makeshift raft, others hosing themselves down to keep cool, a trophy placed before an altar spied through the window of a boat.
There was live music provided by a church group (I gathered this from their “Jesus Loves You” tent); balloons twisted into animal shapes for the little ones; free tuna sandwiches handed out by volunteers; a long snaking queue with sweaty parents and excited children wanting to bang the drums on a display dragon boat.
I spoke to a team that looked like they were having a good time. It turned out they were from Hong Kong University. It was their first time out, with only three practise sessions under their belt. They had raced in the amateur mixed category (14 females, eight males) and had lost early in the day but were enjoying the atmosphere.
It is now, as I wite, a sunny Saturday morning and something is missing. It is strangely quiet.
* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.
