Still in PJs, playing computer games and watching cartoons with the friend that had spent the night, the kids were surprised to hear the sounds of drums approaching one Saturday morning. Outside, a parade of dragons was snaking its way through the narrow alleyways behind and around our house. The view from the ground floor was limited, so we raced to the top floor terrasse to get a better look. 
A band of 30 or so drummers and dragon carriers both children and adult were gathered in front of one of the houses occupied by a Vietnamese family in our neighborhood. Were they being honored? Bestowed with good luck wishes? Solicited for refreshments (they did pass around something to eat)? After about 20 minutes the parade left our neighborhood in its normally peaceful state.
Later on that day, biking down to the tennis courts, we saw the dragons majestically displayed in front of our local Dinh (community center). The Dinh was decked out in flags and banners. There were balloon sellers and hot dog stands. The empty comquat field next door had a kiddie train set up and loud music was blaring in between announcements.
It was a village festival. The ancestors were being honored and the living were presented with certificates of some sort.
Young people took advantage of the time to socialize, older generation wore the traditional attire and the kids reveled in the color and excitement. It reminded me of the fais do do's in Louisiana. I never really understood what the precise occasion was or what kind of "official" activities were taking place. What I did understand is that street parties around the world can be so different and so similar at the same time.
