Ching Ming Festival

It is the annual event again. Paying respect to our beloved past family members. It is on such occasions that you can tell who respects the dead & those mother-fucking bastards who couldn't care less.

I feel exceptionally fortunate that my relatives value the kinship. Every year without fail we will pay respect to my grandparents and eldest uncle during Chinese New Year, Ching Ming & on their death anniversary. It is a time to remember & share memories of them & also for those still suffering alive to get together.

As usual, the day before is always the busiest. Buying ingredients & preparation of the variety of delicacies to be offered to the dead. I assure you that this is not an easy task as compared to some who just buy takeaways on the day itself.

Waking up at 7am to cook & pack the food then setting off & reaching the temple by 10am is the normal routine for this occasion. Parking is 1 big problem on these days. There are even Cisco personnels there to help direct traffic as the temple is situated in an area where the road is narrow & not many parking lots available. Needless to say, it is near impossible to park our vehicles just outside the temple. We'd have to relocate it to the next street or perhaps even further.

Valet parking is provided by my uncles while I carry the offerings in & lay it out on tables provided by the temple. Upon the arrival of all my relatives, we will each offer joss sticks signifying commencement of feasting.

My family's custom is that we give the dead 1 hr's time to feast. During which we'll just hang around & do some catching up among ourselves. Around 45 minutes later we'll gather the joss papers & other stuffs for burning, pack them up in paper bags, again provided by the temple. Last but not least, there's this little slip of paper to be attached to the bag. We will have to write the names of the dead on it in order for them to receive the items. Whether or not can they really receive it we will never know. But it sure eases our conscience by doing so.

When the time is up we will each offer 1 last round of joss stick before packing up & retreating to 1 of our relative's place to finish off all the food (this is on a rotating basis). This year it so happens that it is our turn so the 30+ men strong force invaded my neighbourhood for an illegal assembly.

As my humble abode isn't exactly meant for accomodating so many people, we have to take turns to gorge feast on the sumptuous spread. Since the day I was old enough to know what's going on around me, I remember there was never an instance where we could possibly finish all the food.

End of the day even after packing leftovers for each relative, there was still alot left for my family to clear. It is on such days that I feel so damn guilty because alot of good food is wasted. Think of those who cant make ends meet, who can't afford a decent meal. Haiz...

People who go broke in a big way never miss any meals. It is the poor jerk who is shy a half slug who must tighten his belt -- Robert Heinlein (1907-1988)