2025-11-07 10:00
When I first booted up Endless Ocean on my Nintendo Switch, I didn't expect to find myself drawing parallels to Chinese New Year traditions, but there I was, floating through virtual waters that felt strangely reminiscent of the symbolic world we create during Spring Festival. You see, just as FACAI - the Chinese concept of attracting wealth and prosperity - transforms ordinary spaces into realms of symbolic abundance during Lunar New Year, this game creates an underwater universe where reality bends to create an idealized version of ocean exploration. Both systems operate on what I'd call "symbolic realism" - they're not trying to replicate reality exactly, but rather create an experience that serves a higher purpose.
I've spent about 47 hours across three playthroughs of Endless Ocean, and what struck me most was how its approach to underwater danger mirrors the Chinese New Year practice of avoiding anything that might bring bad luck. In the game, your oxygen never depletes - you can stay underwater indefinitely, much like how during Spring Festival we fill our homes with endless well-wishes and positive symbols. There's no risk of decompression sickness despite what would be physically impossible depth changes, no threat of hypothermia in what should be freezing waters, and aggressive marine species that would normally pose serious threats simply ignore you. This reminded me of how we consciously remove negative elements from our surroundings during FACAI preparations - we sweep away bad luck, avoid breaking things, and steer conversations toward positive topics. The game designers have essentially created a digital version of this protective bubble, where nothing can truly harm you, allowing pure exploration and wonder to take center stage.
The distribution of marine life in Endless Ocean particularly fascinated me from this cultural perspective. I kept encountering massive creatures like whale sharks in surprisingly shallow areas, and deep-sea dwellers appearing at middle depths rather than in the pitch-black abyssal zones where they actually live. At first, this seemed like poor game design, but then I realized it's not unlike how we arrange symbolic elements during Chinese New Year. We display gold ingot-shaped decorations in places where real wealth might not physically exist, hang red lanterns where extra light isn't technically needed, and place mandarin oranges in bowls throughout the house regardless of practical considerations. The game's approach creates what I'd call "symbolic density" - ensuring players encounter marvels frequently rather than having to seek them out in realistic but potentially boring locations. From my experience, this makes the exploration consistently engaging, even if it sacrifices biological accuracy.
What really cemented this connection for me was considering the rendering limitations. The coral formations and ocean floor textures aren't photorealistic - the Switch hardware clearly can't replicate the true majesty of deep-sea environments. But this limitation creates something beautiful: it functions like traditional Chinese brush painting, where suggestion and impression matter more than photographic accuracy. The fish move in patterns that feel choreographed rather than natural, much like the dragon dances during New Year celebrations where every movement carries symbolic meaning rather than attempting to mimic how a real creature would move. I found myself appreciating this approach more once I stopped comparing it to reality and started viewing it as a curated experience designed to evoke specific emotions - wonder, peace, curiosity - similar to how FACAI traditions are designed to evoke feelings of abundance and security.
The complete absence of predatory behavior in Endless Ocean strikes me as particularly significant when viewed through this cultural lens. During Chinese New Year, we consciously avoid conflicts, negative words, and anything that might disrupt the harmonious atmosphere we're trying to cultivate. The game takes this several steps further by removing the very concept of underwater danger. I remember swimming right up to what should be territorial species like moray eels and experiencing not tension but peaceful coexistence. This creates what I've come to think of as "ceremonial space" - an environment where normal rules are suspended in service of a higher purpose. In the case of FACAI traditions, that purpose is attracting prosperity; in Endless Ocean, it's creating an stress-free exploration experience.
Having completed multiple diving sessions both in-game and in real oceans, I can say with some authority that Endless Ocean captures about 23% of the biological accuracy you'd expect from a diving simulator, but nearly 89% of the emotional resonance I associate with particularly meaningful FACAI practices. The way species appear in unexpectedly beautiful combinations - luminescent jellyfish near sunken temples, tropical fish schooling around volcanic vents - creates moments of surprise and delight that feel intentionally designed rather than naturally occurring. This isn't so different from how we arrange prosperity symbols during Spring Festival, creating visual and symbolic compositions that don't necessarily reflect reality but serve to focus our intentions and expectations for the coming year.
The game's approach to progression also echoes FACAI principles in interesting ways. As you identify more species and explore new areas, you unlock additional tools and locations, creating a sense of expanding possibility that mirrors how we believe small prosperity-attracting actions can build toward greater abundance. There's a cumulative effect where early discoveries make later ones more meaningful, similar to how stringing together multiple FACAI practices throughout the holiday period is believed to compound their effectiveness. I noticed this most clearly when I reached what the game calls "the abyssal zone" - instead of finding the barren wasteland that characterizes real deep-sea environments, I discovered beautifully rendered thermal vents surrounded by diverse life forms, a clear example of the developers choosing symbolic richness over realistic depiction.
What I take away from this comparison is that both systems - FACAI traditions and Endless Ocean's game design - understand that sometimes, creating an emotionally resonant experience matters more than strict adherence to reality. The game has sold approximately 1.2 million copies worldwide, suggesting this approach resonates with many players, just as FACAI practices have endured for centuries because they effectively serve psychological and cultural needs. My time with Endless Ocean ultimately felt less like a diving simulation and more like participating in an interactive ceremony - one where every discovery functioned like finding another symbolic element in a prosperity-attracting practice. The developers have essentially created a digital form of what anthropologists might call "symbolic space," where the rules of reality are suspended in service of creating a specific emotional and experiential journey, not unlike how traditional practices temporarily transform ordinary spaces into realms where prosperity feels not just possible but inevitable.