Night of the Stars

Minnarisai Rinnayasana here. Firstly, after that ridiculous play festival, I had a good Christmas celebration. Presents (mine's a purple sweater and a book full of Fun Facts Around the World), Mr. Reyes/Ríso (our equivalent of St. Nicholas in a red and black zoot suit and a car on the streets), and snow games like snowball fights and tobogganing; all this makes it a fun Christmas, Bigton style!

Then there's the New Year, when we have a public countdown on TV, and we burn wooden effigies of clocks on the street.

And lastly, there's the Night of the Stars, on the day after New Year's Day.

In Rinnarit tradition, this was one of several dates for the old Rinnarit New Year, before our ancestors migrated south away from oppression in the North. This was the day the Rinnarits honor the constellations and stars in the sky that they used to worship.

Paivonkiari (The Plough of Spring, my birth constellation); Hyakionvionno (The Golden Swan); Onolinthilari (The Thistle of Sapphire); Deikásásori (The Sleigh of Winter) and Haudanoreti (The Red Torch): you name 'em.

Ever since I was 11, I had to attend the Star Parade, every year without fail: the most important festival of the occasion, usually held at night. On the front are the Star-Bearers, able-bodied men, women, boys, and girls who carry poles with 8-pointed star-tips, representing either a specific star or a constellation. Behind are the various New Year floats, packed with dancers playing and dancing around, having a good time. And behind are the hundreds or thousands of dancers, of various kinds on genres, extending the whole Parade to about two hours of boredom or hilarity, whatever that is your pick.

This year, I'm 16 years' old. And thankfully, I'm a Star-Bearer. Not some fancy alien princess on a pink horse!

Minnarisai's Role

It was the chilly night of November 20, the date of the annual Festival of Plays. It is a nationwide tradition in which schools across the country host plays in their gymnasiums to mark the end of the academic year, culminating two rumbling months of fumbling rehearsals and dreadful exams. Every student over the age of 14, if he or she is not disabled or ill, is required to take a role in any play he or she has been assigned to on August, even down to "the technical or musical stuff".

One of them, Minnarisai Minerva Rinnayasana, anxiously walks up the dim concrete path to her high school. In a studio, she dyes her brunette hair pink, puts on her blue-white-and-pink silk deel* and headgear, and arms herself with a sword and a bow-and-plunger-arrow-quiver-set. Inside a hall, she and her schoolmates gathered into several clustered groups, where they quickly memorized their lines, and practiced their dancing, battling whatever fears that may have troubled them: humiliation
from even one mistake, the wrath of their disappointed superiors, or mockery for their failures of the Hypernet -- all of these are to be no matter, for them and their groups to win their prizes.

What became more troubling for them is that their school has been selected, six months earlier, to be visited tonight by their nation's current leader, President Riyavyardirdŭ´nyo. He, and several officials from the Ministry of Culture will be the judges of tonight's five plays: the director of the winning play will receive 50,000 Union Lorems and a trophy, with a chance of government sponsorship to create a gloriously-made screen adaption - what many writers throughout her nation (such as Director Kiondón'yo) desired to see their works become.

When this was announced, some teachers and school officials, desperate to see a Play of the Year award in their school, forced their students into such an extent, that the annual rehearsals became so much of a torment (worse than the exams, or falling ill), that their beauty has been drowned in a current of fear and loathing. Nonetheless, most of the students dared to brave the fiery wrath of their teachers to finish their exams --

But their practices, and all of their chatting and complaints against their supervisors, were silenced by the irritating clangs of a brass gong, signalling all the students present to immediately stand in line, and ready themselves for the imminent plays.

"Never mind, Minna, that this will get ridiculous", Minerva thought to herself, as she and her friends walked to the backstage entrance, waiting for the muffled droning of the opening speech to end, "at least I have excellent acting skills."