Lighting the way to a darker future

Damien Enright contemplates a few of the wonders we are set to eradicate

A GREY Christmas we had of it, this year, in terms of weather, although indoors we enjoyed the usual glow of bonhomie and warm fires, warmed wine and blazing Christmas pudding.

Outside, it was universally dull and windy, not a spark of light except for the animated Santas and reindeers on front lawns and rooftops and, in some cases, a thousand lights (I exaggerate not) winking in synch from the surrounding shrubberies and trees. All this should guarantee us many more mild, warm, dull, grey Christmases to come. Neighbours are expending kilowattages in efforts to outdo one another. What will the lit-up Santas mean when our children will never have seen snow?

Another conundrum that struck us during the Christmas week was that while the gospels tell us that Mary was “with child”, she didn’t look at all pregnant as she waited in the stable beside the empty manger in our local church. The infant was delivered by the priest at Midnight Mass, which was a beautiful ceremony, with the choir in full voice and the small church lit entirely by candles. Therein, the real magic and spirit of Christmas was abroad, with no expenditure of electricity, and the adults were as in awe as the children.

On a more secular note, a friend who is teaching English in China, and whom I’ve quoted in this column before, sends me more bizarre news. He says while Chinese car companies are getting bigger, at least, until now, there has been no CFC emission from spray-on deodorants. I quote, “In Saudi one could buy these deodorants (but only those brands without alcohol). However, despite woeful plumbing and a somewhat relaxed attitude toward hygiene, the Chinese, for whatever reason — diet, genetics? — have no need of Mum or Brut or the like.”

He turns to Chinese conservation, or lack of same. “Last week, at the far end of the local market, a brand new stall appeared with women in colourful attire and music playing I would guess came from the far west of China. There was a large display of fur coats and several complete skins of large wild felines. Two were tigers, or if not, something I have never seen before that greatly resembles a tiger. Certainly all such large cats would be protected species. I went up to examine them. The stall-holder was friendly, not suspicious, and talked away at high speed. A crowd gathered round as always. I couldn’t say much; my Chinese is very limited. I’ve since learned the word for tiger, but it’s too late now. The crowd all laughed at the foreigner asking strange questions, so I retreated.

Next day, I brought someone with me who could translate; I hoped I could find out about this business, pretending I was a potential buyer. Of course, the stall had gone. I hope the police are dealing with these brigands, but I imagine they had simply sold their stock and headed off to the wilds for more, clearly too blind to see that there won’t be many more.

“I recently travelled far into the wilds of the Yunnan-Sichuan border to a magnificent lake, Lugu Hu, where the local women never live with any particular man, but choose whoever they want, whenever they want. The nearest I came to this ‘free love’ was a brief encounter with two young ladies from Shenzhen who vanished very rapidly when I lost my temper over the tiger skins hanging up in the bar we had just entered.

“There was wonderful scenery — I had three tough bus journeys up mountain roads, and a 40-hour train ride through lovely places — rice terraces, villages of tightly-packed curly-roofed cottages, bamboo forests, the odd monstrous factory incongruously positioned beside misty rivers.”

Great stuff! I’ve told my friend he should have a column of his own, relating his travels. He is now in Ghana, having taught in Saudi, Uganda and China and sent me amusing or alarming — but always intriguing — dispatches from each.