清明时节雨纷纷
路上行人欲断魂
借问酒家何处有
牧童遥指杏花村
qīng míng shí jié yǔ fēn fēn
lù shàng xíng rén yù duàn hún
jiè wèn jiǔ jiā hé chù yǒu
mù tóng yáo zhǐ xìng huā cūn
[English translation]
The mourner's heart is breaking on his way.
Where can a hostel be found to drown his sadness?
A cowherd points to Xing Hua village in the distance.
The picture quality...*ahem*...quite bad I know, still trying to master low light photography...but at least it stills convey the gloominess.
Qing Ming Festival or Ching Beng as we called it in Malaysia is something I've never truly experienced before. Being raised in a Christian family, I am always confused why my parents can go Qing Ming and I was not allowed. I was small and perhaps I can't climb the "mountain". Maybe it was because of the horrifying thoughts of actually visiting a CEMETERY - you'd know...white paper flying around in the mist with sorrowful cries of mourners or the dead themselves? And then I had dreams of my grandfather pulling my legs into the altar (my old house had an ancestral worship altar). Oh, it's horrifying!
But as I matured, I wondered why they called it Qing Ming - Clear Brightness Festival? Mind my direct translation. Then, I stumbled across Wikipedia which has other more relevant translations - All Souls Day, Festival for Tending Graves, Grave Sweeping Day, Chinese Memorial Day, Tomb Sweeping Day, Spring Remembrance. Nevertheless, the direct translation - Clear Brightness Day was on the TITLE. An even more awkward description was "Its name denotes a time for people to go outside and enjoy the greenery of springtime"! Well that was my perspective of "weird"...
Even though I know many Christians debate about whether going to Ching Beng is an all right thing, my conscience was not against it. I don't mean to stumble anyone, but to me it's more like a more formal TOMB VISITATION. Bring some flowers. Anyway, not to offend my "atheistic-dunno-what-religion-or-superstitious" relatives, I helped carry the interesting box of hell-money and food which I don't think they'll eat or use. And off I went to my father's side grandfather tomb in Benta, my hometown. I was quite excited as I don't know what's the whole thing there going to be or there'll be shamans shouting. Inside my dad's Mahindra, everything looks dark and outside too. It's 6.30 am anyway. Nothing to fear.
Gloomy, get the FEEL?
We were the first ones to arrive as the place looks lonely and I felt just like the poem. Misty, dark, lonely, only that lonely lampost, cries of banshees? We walked and walked past the big sign which reads "Benta Cemetery Mountain" and walked some more. Luckily it was not some loggers road but cemented ground, but it's steep! Glad my grandfather's tomb was near the road and all the bushes are cleared by my uncle earlier. I placed down all the heavy stuff and flowers. I looked around. Gloomy. I wondered it must be lonely for the ancestors to stay here. I snapped some photos, not hoping and hoping to catch "something". It was not taboo in my family anyway, in fact they encouraged me to documentasi-kan all the processes and admonished me once for not taking a picture of an important process. Battery died, stupid me didn't charged!
Then people start coming. I was with my dad, my eldest uncle, 2nd youngest uncle and my siblings. My mum, my youngest uncle and his eldest son, and my 2nd youngest uncle's wife came later with another car. Oh dear, it's hard enough to tell you my relatives calling terms, but wait till you study Chinese. It's even more confusing! Anyway, shall start the thing soon and this year I guessed grandfather is happy that so many people come and visit him. (not it, they don't just ceased!)
The Fatt Kou and miscelleneous...
Joysticks, thick red candles and some cups were laid out. And my favourite, specially spongy Fatt Kou (or Prosperity Cakes, ain't sure translation is correct). My family did not participated in the ritual of "ancestral worship", just watched. To me, it's like talking or telling things to those deceased. Mine is via Jesus, theirs through the tombstone. Then my uncles told all sorts of things to him. Today many of his children and grandchildren visited him, brought him lots of "money", one of his grandchildren got 13 A1's and yakity-yakity yak yak... then a bow.
Joysticks again...wondered why are they called "joy"sticks. My uncles went to poke them on the ground behind the tombstone. Then I was wondering whether now it should be "joys ticks" on grandfather for poking on him or "joy sticks" to him. I was not a very good boy and dislike him badly when I was small. I disliked him all because of a strand of mein fan kou...stupid me! Small kids after all... Then dad told stories of my grandfather, then the more interests I grew in him. However, during the next holiday in 1998, I went back to hometown to eagerly meet him. I saw him, but did not talk. The next morning, the whole house was sad. I looked at my dad and asked what happened. "Grandpa," said dad, "...you know what happened..." Mr Yong held his tears. And so went the 7 days procession...
Back to 2008, joysticks again. I loved combustion and carbonizing stuff. So all the burning of papers and "money"was jolly exciting to me. First I threw the white and yellow papers and tried to stick one on the joysticks, uncle says can give more luck or A's...Anyway, out of fun, I threw them, none got stucked, who needs anymore A's anyway I thought. Ahahaha, then the burning starts. Open burning! Burn 1000, no, 1 million notes of hell-money! Then there are clothes, shoes and mahjong! Oh, so funny...burning frenzy!
Throwing papers competition!
Oh, my legs, bare and naked legs....so close..."Come closer, Gong Gong want to talk to YOU!!!"
Then I tried throwing more money into the fire and OUCH! My legs touches on one of the joysticks. Innocent looking but there's the small cunning glow. My dad warned me about this before. I though I was too clever to get into this trouble. Then my uncle said it was grandpa asking you questions. Oh now, joy really sticks, or joys ticks! "Must thank grandpa for blessing", he said. Some of you might think I thought this"Hey, he burned me! And all the SPM results are my OWN hardwork!". It did cross my mind and with the so-called "Christian anti-ancestor" sentiments, you'd sure did make a good guess. Well, weirdly, I thought again...
First of all, Christianity isn't a faith that teaches you to rebel against your family, or against ancestors. So that means being a Christian, you don't hate your non-Christian parents, relatives or friends. The only thing is that God wants us to focus our Him, our Creator, instead of your ancestors who are His creations too, for help and dependence on Him. So I don't believe in ancestral worship. But in a sense, grandpa did give a blessing indirectly in my SPM results. If he did not choose to marry and bear a child called Yong Sau Peng, and Yong Sau Peng did not marry Ho Yoke May, if they both choose not to have a child called Calvin Yong... those thirteen A1's belongs to some one not ME! And not to forget the petrol, the books, the electricity, the food that was invested in my SPM. So my hardwork is just my part of contribution which cannot stand by itself. Without grandpa raising such a good child called Yong Sau Peng and allowed him to further studies and became a teacher, I wouldn't be who I am. Thank you grandpa for just being grandpa...
And thoughts after thoughts came. The more I watch my surrounding, the more merrier it became. People came for picnic and enjoy the joys of combustioning, burning tonnes of paper which I don't know set how many trees on fire. Some brought paper handbags imitations of branded names. Some burned paper Mercedes. Some burned a motorcycle. Computers (Windows Vista perhaps?) and whatever treasures and pleasures were sent to hell. Hell bank notes after all denotes it's being send to hell right? I even burned a Kepong Fashion T-shirt to grandpa which reminds me of Kah Peng...hehe. I don't really understand what's the meaning behind all this. Buddhists believed in reincarnation, so how they know their ancestors is still in hell? Why they think they are in hell, not heaven? Maybe, I can't see it from their perspective.
One of the Kepong Fashion shirt....LOL, Kah Peng's pride as in Bak Kut Teh? Perhaps he'll say it's from Klang...
I read from Ting Yee's blog:
HAPPY CHENG BENG EVERYONE!!!! for those that havn visited their ancestors in ages, go back! they miss you!!!
Happy? Sure it's happy. Miss you? Definitely, even from a Christian perspective. [Luke 16:19-31] What Ting Yee said in a sense was true, but perhaps missing a little. I was wondering why people is so merry when their loved ones went to hell? Why they cared for them when only when they are dead? Why buy all those stuff like Mercedes only after they are dead? I am not saying they did not care, but of them seems to be like that.
We should honour our parents, no doubt, it's in the Ten Commandments too. But when? With what intentions? After they left us and we can send them cheaper paper Mercedes and can send numerically larger hell bank notes? Try to please them by offering a lot of money and expecting a large hit on 4D in return? Stop being kedekut and self-centred... don't care you are Christians or Buddhists or Ancestral Worshippers. "Picnic"? Have "fun" tomb-sweeping? Qing Ming is for your enjoyment or their remembrance? You think your ancestors are pleased with such attitude? Or even yourselves when you are Down There? Hard questions, but please seriously give it a thought. I don't have the exact answers, it depends on your situation...
For me I'd rather burn real Ringgit Malaysia to them if I'm a Buddhist. I'd rather work hard to provide a better living for them while they are living. My parents can't drive Mercedes anyway. I'll treat them well with nothing to expect from them. Do it NOW when they are living. Send them money when they are still here in need, not when they are Down There and when it's not sure whether combustion brings your paper money Down There and whether they can use it if they receive it. Think about it. Sending them to old folks home is just as same as sending off to cemetery. I lost my grandpa when I don't appreciate him. Perhaps the joystick was a reminder and punishment from him or Him...
My cousin brother...the HEART matters most right?
After the Clear Brightness Festival, my feelings was not any clearer. My dad and my sis and I went to pick some reddish saga seeds (xiang si dou, Love Seeds) near my hometown. There were some at the cemetery too. But such seeds reminded me of a saga seed which I picked was heart shaped and which I lost. Perhaps the feeling is Clear Brightness now, I missed sowing seeds of love in my grandpa's heart...
树欲静而风不止，子欲养而亲不待
The tree wanted to be still but the wind wouldn't stop,
the child wanted to care but the Cared couldn't wait.
