From the creators of fireworks...

From the creators of that cheerful, celebratory comedy "Fireworks," a new, gripingly painful tragedy: "Fireworks, the Maiming."

Though I have celebrated 春节 (Chinese New Year) in China before, this was the first time I got to witness the sheer bedlam that (literally) explodes over the streets from about 11 o'clock on New Year's Eve to about half-past midnight on New Year's Day. The pervasive, unregulated, and totally desultory use of fireworks is a wonder to those of us from cultures in which the enjoyment of pyrotechnics is governed not only by municipal codes, but by common sense as well. Considering that they've had literally over a millennium¹ to perfect the art of explosive powders, you'd think the Chinese would have developed and implemented more safety features for their most famous invention after pasta. It's nothing short of astonishing that the Middle Kingdom boasts one-and-a-third billion inhabitants, considering the massive population casualties it must have suffered at the deadly (yet beautiful) hands of these combustible delights.

To illustrate my point, I will take you through the evening prior to 春节 and selectively describe the spectacle that unfolded before me. But first, to give you an appreciation of the atmosphere of this special day, I'll need to start a little before that night. During the two to three weeks leading up to the Big Event, entire sections of street—and we're talking long swaths of sidewalk, sometimes composed of six or seven vendors lined up together—become devoted to the sale of these explosive goodies. What is available at these makeshift stands? Basically every variety of firecracker known to man, from the little toy poppers that explode when thrown on the ground, to sparklers, to the massive, high altitude Disneyland-type fireworks that are launched into the air [pictured in the first two photos of this post.] Minimum age to purchase any of these (potentially lethal) devices? None. This super abundance of firecrackers ensures that everyone can stockpile as many as he/she might need to bring in the new year with a bang.

At around 11:30 pm Sam and I heard familiar popping sounds coming from outside; colored lights in the distance sporadically illuminated the window of his family room. We continued watching the CCTV New Years Gala (which I really enjoy, except for the skits) for about 15 minutes, until Sam poked my arm and said, "O-a-kay, let'sa gou nao." ("Okay, let's go now.") He grabbed some money from his dad that would later be used to purchase firecrackers, and dashed out the door and down the stairs of his apartment building. I followed behind as quickly as I could, and found him on the street surveying the impromptu fireworks show being put on by his neighbors. A little passed midnight, Sam and I walked farther down the street to one of the ubiquitous dynamite merchants. He purchased several long tubes, a type of firecracker I had never seen previous in American. One end of the tube is lit, and from the other end small, projectiles are propelled about 20-25 feet into the air, at which point they terminate in a tiny explosion. Essentially what's being sold in packs of eight to anyone with about $1.75USD is a Bangalore torpedo. Lest anyone accuse me of exaggerating the danger of these tubes of death, I will relate a little anecdote: Sam lit my Bangalore, and we proceeded to walk through some alleyways to meet his friends. We stopped for a moment to admire the fireworks, and in a moment of inattention I forgot all about how my tube was angled. From the corner of my eye I then noticed a flash of light flying from my pipe; I then watched to my complete horror as the light sailed into the open window of someone's house. As far as I know, no one was injured, but the owner of the house came out to yell at us. We moved on.

As we watched the display, I noticed another dangerous aspect of the use of fireworks here: the aforementioned large, professional-type fireworks can be set off by literally anyone; no license or special training is required. This means that they sometimes fail to gain sufficient altitude to clear three story buildings, which results in colorful sparks of fire whizzing between the heads of spectators. Sometimes these large fireworks are improperly angled prior to ignition, so they ascend at a perilous 60° or 70°angle, rather than perpendicularly to the ground.


We kept walking and I saw some high school students lighting small explosive devices, then hurling them as fast as they could across the street, where more often than not a group of pedestrians was walking: grenades. Grenades were being thrown in every direction without regard for the positioning of bystanders who may have been hit/maimed/blinded/injured in some other yet-unconceived way. It didn't matter where the fireworks landed, so long as that place was sufficiently far from the thrower to preclude his own injury. I guess it's really just a manifestation of the driving mentality here: if you don't want to have an accident, look out for things that might hit you; you needn't look out for those you might injure.

I saw sparklers on sticks about four inches long. [See photo above.] Seriously, why would one make sparklers of this length, knowing that they're only going to get shorter as they burn, and will eventually end up engulfing the users' hands in an incandescent ball of fire. I saw people from second- and third- story windows throwing firecrackers into the streets at those below them. I saw the Bangalore torpedo-type explosives lit then stuck into trashcans [see photo at left]. An unsuspecting six-year-old, assuming the tube was trash and not a live firework, walked by and was nearly struck in face by the explosion that launched the firecracker into the air. I saw an ambulance driving down the street—not a high speed, not adorned with flashing lights or sirens. It was cruising around town waiting for the inevitable injuries: a second degree burn, a someone losing a hand or an eye, miscellaneous maimings...

If you think I'm making this stuff up or that I tend toward hyperbole (and I do, but this posting is not an manifestation of that tendency), you can check out what a more established, reputable news provider has to say. Here's an email update I got recently from The Economist:

...But not everyone is delighted with these combustible toys. During the new year's celebrations, emergency medical workers put extra dispatchers on duty, sent 100 ambulances on special patrol and added staff to hospital emergency rooms. The state media reported that some 270 people were injured and one 25-year-old man was killed. Sanitation workers also had their hands full: 16,000 workers set about cleaning up 900 tonnes of tattered red paper, spent casings and other firecracker debris from the streets.

For more from the Economist on the newly commenced Year of the Pig, click here.


I'm not into superstition, but according to Chinese tradition the Year of the Pig ushers in a period of prosperity and good luck. Without a single accident on a night fraught with more dangers than a Tanzanian operating room, it looks (so far) to be living up to its reputation. The Year of the Pig might just make a believer out of me yet.


¹From Wikipedia's "Fireworks" entry:
"Fireworks originated in China (206 BC–AD 220) and produced a loud sound (known in Chinese as 'Bian pao') that was intended to frighten evil spirits. In the Northern and Southern Dynasties (AD 420–581) the firecrackers were used not only to dispel evil but also to pray for happiness and prosperity.
The discovery of gunpowder and the subsequent invention of true fireworks is also owed to the Chinese. Taoist monks played with the basic components of gunpowder to create fireworks in their spare time. Eventually, the art and science of firework making developed into an independent profession of its own. In ancient China, pyrotechnicians (firework-masters) were well-respected for their knowledge and skill to mount dazzling displays of light and sound. Some scholars say fireworks were developed in the Sui and Tang Dynasties (581–907), but others argue there were no fireworks until the Northern Song Dynasty (10th century)."