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Is it the year of the Ox?
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Yankee, Go Home!
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This way to the hotel?
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New Year's celebrations have always escaped me. I cannot
fathom why we put so much emphasis on a mechanical function of a man-made
chronology, especially one that we can't agree on. Those of us following
the Roman Catholic calendar were all excited last weekend, that roughly 2000 years
ago, an unmarried mom gave birth.
Others, like the Buddhist, follow a calendar based on a
man's date of 'enlightenment' that's 543 years ahead of us (so
its year 2543 and we're a little late), or 622 years behind us (the date
Mohammed and his followers of Islam were forced to flee Medina).
For me, I find my celebration the morning after New
Years. That's when I awake to a chorus of birds singing, just like they did the
day before, and will do the day after. Nature, as far as I can tell, doesn't
care what significance man places on random revolutions of the Earth; she
counts time in endless cycles of life.
This random revolution called New Year's 2000, was no
different, though I did have to go a little farther than before to escape
the hype. December 31 found me on the Thai island of Ko Samui, trying to
live oblivious to the tick of the Countdown Clock. Unfortunately, I wasn't
alone in my thoughts.
As I boarded the ferry to the island, I looked around
and realized that it was chock full of fellow tourists and travelers, all
headed to Koh Samui for a Millennium getaway. After I arrived on the
island, my fears were realized when it took me five travel agents to
locate a room, and that was an expensive hotel off the main beach. Not
being picky at this stage, I took the room and was glad for it.
Away from the madness of the tourist beaches, I was able
to revert to beach time. Getting up early for the sun, sleeping in the
afternoon, and partying all night came back quickly from my days in
Florida. Luckily, I didn't revert too quickly and I was asleep when it all
happened, with only the sound of fireworks and reveler's cheers telling me
it's a New Year. |