PESTA ANGPAU DI UTeM

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                      Chinese New Year

                              BY LYNDA HULL

The dragon is in the street dancing beneath windows

pasted with coloured squares, past the man

who leans into the phone booth’s red pagoda, past

crates of doves and roosters veiled

until dawn. Fireworks complicate the streets

with sulphur as people exchange gold

and silver foil, money to appease ghosts

who linger, needy even in death. I am

almost invisible. Hands could pass through me

effortlessly. This is how it is

to be so alien that my name falls from me, grows

untranslatable as the shop signs,

the doors of ginseng and black fungus that idle

in the stairwell, the corridor where

the doors are blue months ajar. Hands

gesture in the smoke, the partial moon

of a face. For hours the soft numeric

click of mah-jongg tiles drifts

down the hallway where languid Mai trails

her musk of sex and narcotics.

There is no grief in this, only the old year

consuming itself, the door knob blazing

in my hand beneath the lightbulb’s electric jewel.

Between voices and fireworks

wind works bricks to dust—hush, hush—

no language I want to learn. I can touch

the sill worn by hands I’ll never know

in this room with its low table

where I brew chrysanthemum tea. The sign

for Jade Palace sheds green corollas

on the floor. It’s dangerous to stand here

in the chastening glow, darkening

my eyes in the mirror with the gulf of the rest

of my life widening away from me, waiting

for the man I married to pass beneath

the sign of the building, to climb

the five flights and say his Chinese name for me.

He’ll rise up out of the puzzling streets

where men pass bottles of rice liquor, where

the new year is liquor, the black bottle

the whole district is waiting for, like

some benevolent arrest—the moment

when men and women turn to each other and dissolve

each bad bet, every sly mischance,

the dalliance of hands. They turn in lamplight

the way I turn now. Wai Min is in the doorway.

He brings fish. He brings lotus root.

He brings me ghost money.

PESTA ANGPAU ( PAP )

DI UTeM 

Pada 27 march, Universiti Teknikal Malaysia Melaka telah melancarkan satu aktiviti Pesta Angpau di Universiti mereka seperti aktiviti Pesta Angpau yang dijalankan di Universiti lain seperti Ukm, Ktsn Ukm dan sebagainya. Aktiviti Pesta Angpau diadakan di Dewan Besar UTeM yang boleh memuatkan 4000 orang pada satu-satu

masa.

   Pada 27 March, saya bersama kawan saya pergi sana dengan Memandu kereta. Keseluruhan masa yang berlu diambil untuk sampai ke dewan besar Utem memerlukan 1 jam 30 minits. Suasana yang digambarkan kepada kami ketika samapai ke sana ialah sungguh meriah dan terdapat banyak orang yang menyertai aktiviti ini termasuk mahasiswa/i dari universiti lain, orang awam, kanak-kanak, wakil dari syarikat sumbangan dan sembagainya. 

 Hiasan dalaman di Dewan Besar Utem.

Kebudayaan 11th UTeM Spring Festival 2017 yang bertema “Cheng Yi” （承翌）“Cheng Yi” bukan sahaja membawa maksud keikhlasan , ia juga melambangkan budaya tradisional kaum Cina. Penganjuran Malam Kebudayaan ini memberi semua pihak menyambut dan merasai suasana perayaan Tahun Baru Cina disamping mengenali budaya cina dengan lebih mendalam. 

Tambahan pula, exco-exco bagi aktiviti ini juga membuat satu temboh China yang kecil yang melambangkan sebagai kaum Cina haruslah bersikap tabah dan cekap dalam menghadapi setaiap masalah seperti Temboh besar China, Tambahan pula, ia juga melambangkan Keistimewaan tradisional Kaum Cina.