On Sunday the 6^th of February Manchester’s Chinatown erupted in activity and colour to celebrate the Lunar New Year. The streets thronged with people from all walks of life: a positive display of Manchester’s multicultural and vibrant population.

I first encountered a long, undulating, multicoloured dragon which moved through the streets bestowing good fortune on bystanders for the year to come. Operated by twenty people of considerable upper body strength it danced to the sound of drums and cymbals. Toddlers pressed up against the fences to look at it in wonder- except for one small boy who took one look at it and burst into terrified tears.

Food stalls lined the streets emitting delicious scents while a buzzing trade was done in paper lanterns, parasols and dragons (one of which I am the proud owner). I was presented with a free bottle of soy sauce and wished good luck for the year to come more times than I could count.

 A particular highlight for me was a surreal experience I had whilst buying incense; a man dressed as a dragon ran up to the till to much shouting and commotion and demanded the attention of the cashier. She then produced a cabbage which she “fed” to him, although the “consumption” of said cabbage involved tearing it into bits and spitting them all over the floor. He then departed at a run, presumably to bother more business people with his vegetable demands.

In addition to the more traditional offerings the festival also included some truly western additions: hot dog and candyfloss vendors, flashy spinning rides designed to induce vomiting and a carousel. Restaurants were shepherding hoards of people through their doors and I have to admit I fell prey to the lure of the all you can eat buffet: the safe haven of a student who wishes she could buy freshly cooked authentic faire but has not the financial means!

My day ended with a trip to the top floor of Manchester Art Gallery to see the final dance performance of the afternoon: a beautiful performance by 8 or so 5 year old oriental girls about dolls. Some executed their moves with precision and had a glint of fame in their eye, while others abandoned the choreography at quite an early stage and wandered listlessly about with the other dancers. The overall impression was one of intense cuteness and I heard one western woman comment on the way out in true colonial fashion; “I want one”.

So despite the grey skies and the biting wind Manchester came alive for the day to welcome in the Year of the Rabbit.