2010 is still in its mewling and puking stage, but already the expectations are quite high. They are at this time every year. I suppose that’s natural. What would be the point, otherwise?
I’m generally not one to look back on the year, but since everyone else has been doing it, I might as well join in. 2009 was the year of … what, exactly? For me, 2009 was the Year of Not-Having-Enough-Money-but-Please-Grin-and-Bear-It-Because-Everyone-Is-In-the-Same-Boat. For others (according to the lists I have read) it was the Year of Twitter, the Year We Failed at Copenhagen, and the Year of the Prawn. Each to his own, I suppose. But none of it really leaves you in mourning and tearing your clothes at the loss of 2009. Prawn jokes get stale after a while, anyway.
It is easy to forget that January 1 is an entirely arbitrary date, and that the idea that the whole world shares the same year is a fairly new one. The Western world (because of Christianity) has traditionally followed the Gregorian calendar, which itself only came into being in 1582 when Pope Gregory XIII lopped ten days off the Julian calendar that preceded it. This had something to do with the cycles of the moon and leap years and the dates of Easter and other esoteric magic. The Julian calendar (still followed by Orthodox churches) had itself been a response to the fact that the preceding one was so inadequate that Julius Caesar, arriving at the Rubicon in January, when it SHOULD have been winter, found that it was actually early autumn and he had packed all the wrong clothes.
Our calendar has, for the most part, lost the religious connotations that are inescapably tied to its history. And for the most part, the world officially follows this calendar, which is why you can see Chinese revellers going bonkers at the same time we do, give or take a few hours. Of course they also get to go bonkers at Chinese New Year, as most cultures and religions with their own calendars also observe those dates. It’s all an excuse to party, of course, but it does highlight just how arbitrary, and political, our time constructs can be.
But we buy into it, and for most people a new year signifies a fresh start. Resolutions aren’t quite the thing anymore, but I doubt anyone can honestly say that their New Year’s Eve doesn’t involve at least a tiny sliver of self reflection and hope that the next year will bring happiness and joy. It’s the only night of the year when one is allowed to become so nauseatingly maudlin, so you might as well take full advantage and link arms and sing Auld Lang Syne. I know I do, even though I will deny it to the death every time.
And now, a week later, the hangover has worn off and we can start to see, rather than just speculate, what this year might be like. Not much to report yet. So far 2010 seems to be following the usual pattern: people taking chances, taking wives and generally taking the piss. The world’s tallest building has opened in a city that is otherwise frightfully embarrassed that the financial crisis has finally caught up with them (it’s so last season).
Johannesburg is still snoozing, so heaven help you if you want to go out for dinner or get anything done in a hurry. The World Cup? We will have to wait and see. At least our president has a new wife to keep him occupied until then.
I hope this year is a good one. It’s just a waste of time otherwise. But if, for some reason, it isn’t, don’t worry. There’ll be another one next year.
Follow Lisa on Twitter. It’s a very 2010 thing to do. www.twitter.com/swimlittlefish