Happy Long Tai Tou, Dragon Raises Head day, to one and all. It’s February 2nd – check your lunar calendar. This is the day spring finally returns, when things start looking dragon green. In south China, today is known as Ta Qing Jie, step on the grass day, something you’re still allowed to do in far-flung corners of the land. For the farmers, China’s backbone, today is Farmers’ Affairs Festival, more to do with walking an ox and plow than running around on a spouse.
But symbolically grass, farmers, and everyone in China owe much to the dragon. He’s the bringer of life, wind, and rain, the icon of peace and prosperity, which is why emperors have appropriated his likeness and forbidden it to others. “Long bu tai tou, tian bu yu,” they say – if the dragon doesn’t raise his head, the sky won’t rain. No spring showers, no renewal. No wonder the festival predates the earliest dynasties, and has some mythological roots as well.
The festival has its origins in a distant time known as fu yi shi. On this day, what passed for the queen would cook for the commoners, and the king would soil his hands with farming, to ensure full bellies and fields. Huang Di, the first great Chinese emperor, widely established the tradition. By the Western Zhou Dynasty, the ritual had expanded to include all high officials, getting their court robe hems dirty and dainty palms calloused.
During the Tang Dynasty, inevitable taboos crept in. No one dared sew, for fear of poking the dragon’s eyes, or ground seed, to protect his skin. However fabled Tang empress Wuzi Tian, in a move to do away with traditional Tang cultural practices, banned Long Tai Tou, angering the Emperor of Heaven, who retaliated by cursing China with three years of drought.
The Jade Dragon had more compassion than his master, and at last took pity on the parched earthlings. In charge of the celestial river, he directed a life-giving rain on the land. Naturally the Emperor of Heaven found out, and punished the Jade dragon by burying him underneath a great mountain. A massive headstone at the foot of the mountain read, “The dragon made rain, disobeying heaven’s rule. The dragon will suffer as humans suffer, and may not return to heaven until the golden bean flowers.”
Everyone wanted to rescue the Jade Dragon, as much to ensure rainfall as to repay his kindness, and began scouring the land for a golden bean that flowered. Years passed without success, until some farmers picking at the scant remains of their dried corn noticed that the kernels resembled golden beans. One creative soul remarked that if they made popcorn, the golden bean would come to resemble a flower.
Within a few hours, mounds of popcorn were heaped on family altars, where the Emperor of Heaven would notice them. The Jade Dragon noticed, at any rate, and roared to the skies, “The golden bean has flowered, release me!” The Emperor of Heaven, all powerful though he may be, was nonetheless constrained to his word, and a promise fulfilled, however metaphorically. He freed the dragon and reinstated him to his rain-making duties by the celestial river.
This explains why people still make popcorn on this day, as well as leaving mounds of beans on family altars. It also explains why people rename foods. On Long Tai Tou, dumplings become dragon ears, rice patties become dragon scales, rice dragon seeds, and won-tons dragon eyes. What it doesn’t explain is what any of this has to do with a dragon raising its head.
In answer, the Chinese tell another legend. Long ago, but not so long ago as the Jade Dragon’s misadventure, there was another drought, in Shaanxi. At last a village hero named Shui Sheng set out to look for water. After a week’s travel, he came to another village. The eldest man there told him that the task of tending to the celestial river had fallen to the grandson of the Jade Dragon.
A youthful, forgetful magic lizard, the grandson had been sent to dispense rain to parched Shaanxi, but upon arriving had shirked his chore to go cavorting about. Shui Sheng asked the village elder how to put the young dragon back on task, and learned that he would have to fashion a fighting staff from “defeat dragon” wood. Shui Sheng roamed far and wide to find the rare tree, extinct today, which bore such wood. Even after making the staff, Shui Sheng was hard put to find the dragon, as on earth dragons favor caves, mountain tops, and other lairs similarly inaccessible.
But find the dragon he did, and succeeded in beating the stuffing out of the errant rain-maker. Gradually returning to consciousness, the dragon lifted his head and whirled up to the sky, which suddenly filled with black rain clouds and rumbling thunder. A rather elaborate story to justify a dragon’s head raising, but powerful enough that on this day a few superstitious souls still venture out to pray at a dragon temple. True, just a few, but many others, equally superstitious, view this day as the first safe one after New Year’s to get a hair cut. Ask an old Chinese person or two. They’ll verify.