Every Chinese knows that the seventh month of the lunar calendar is the 'Hungry Ghosts Festival', a time where the gates of hell open and spirits roam the earth freely. To the older generation, this festival is a very important one in the Chinese calendar, coming second in its importance to the Chinese New Year. It is a time where respects were paid to the dead. On the fifteenth day, many families will be busy cooking their specialty dishes for their ancestors. After offering food to their ancestors, these families will then make a great feast of the food.
Things are no different in my family.The fifteenth day will be an occasion for all relatives to gather at my house and all grown ups will be busy helping my grandmother. It will be different matter for us the kids altogether; we will get to play and make mischief since the grown ups will be busy. This is how I spend my childhood, year after year. The Hungry Ghosts Festival this year however, was different. A series of peculiar incidents had happened which claimed the life of one of my family members. 'Ah Wayne, can you bring the plate of vegetables from the table?' My grandmother yelled as she dug the wok with gusto, browning the garlic in the hot oil. 'Yes, grandma.' My youngest cousin came in with a hefty plate of leafy 'kangkong', and handed it to my grandmother. My grandmother was cooking for the big feast. There were already dishes of fried chicken, braised duck and roast pork prepared and set on the dining table, as offerings to our ancestors.
'Why are the vegetables covered in sand? I have just washed them. Ah Wayne, did you dirty the vegetables when you fetch it to me earlier?' 'No, grandma. I took it from the table, like you told me to.' Everyone was silent and looked at each other, wondering who was the culprit. Just then, at that moment, more sand was thrown in the wok from outside the window. 'Hey! Stop throwing sand in here! We are cooking food in here!' My grandmother yelled as she looked out the window. To her surprise, there was no one out there. 'Ma, close the window. That way, the kids cannot dirty the kitchen,' My mother suggested. My grandmother took my mother's advice and closed the window. Everyone soon went back to their chores. Occasionally, we could hear someone knocking on the window pane, but everyone ignored it thinking that it was one of our mischievous cousins. 'You all better don't be naughty, or else I'll sell you to the garang guni (rag-and-bone) man.' My grandmother threatened as she opened the window. She had clearly lost her patience with all the pranks. To her surprise, there was no one outside again. With an uneasy feeling, she closed the window and mumbled something to herself.
'Ma! The knife's moving on its own!' One of my aunt's screamed as the knife on the chopping board began to chop on its own. My grandmother and aunts started shouting and screaming hysterically, drawing my grandfather and uncles into the kitchen. My grandfather was a devoted Taoist. Knowing that he was up against the unseen, he went to the altar immediately, and inscribed some Chinese characters in red cinnabar on yellow paper. Holding the fu (talisman) to his forehead, he muttered some incantations before burning it. He told me later that this ritual is necessary to open his third eye, so that he could communicate with the spirit that were creating the disturbance. In the meantime, the situation in the kitchen was getting out of hand. Knives and other kitchen utensils were moving on their own and food was flying all across the kitchen. By the time my grandfather got there, the kitchen was in a total mess.
With his third eye opened, my grandfather could see the poltergeists, and he started chanting some incantations in a thunderous voice. We then saw the knives and utensils dropping to the ground. The flying array of food missiles had also ceased. All this time, the kitchen window flapped open and closed as the sound of childish giggles died away into the distance. My grandfather then told us that it was only the spirits of small little children trying to get attention. He told me that the spirits ran away upon hearing my grandfather's thunderous voice and the murmurs of the prayers. he was wrong. 'Come, everyone, come and pay your respects to your ancestors,' my grandmother gathered everyone shortly after she had finished cooking. As if on instinct, everyone stopped what they were doing, and gathered in front of the ancestral altar, everyone except for Ah Wayne, my little cousin. He was still sitting before the television. 'Come, Ah Wayne, be a good boy. Come and pay your respects.' My grandmother coaxed. 'Aiyah, grandma, I don't want. I want to watch cartoon.' Wayne yelled back, reluctant to peel his eyes from the television.
'Wayne! Come here now! Don't disobey your grandma!' My uncle's booming voice rang out over my head as he ordered his son away from the television. Sulking, Wayne finally left the television and came to the altar. 'Okay, all the grandchildren stand in a straight line. Mei Ying, you start first,' my grandmother gestured to me, 'followed by Yang Chang, then Li Ling, and finally Wayne, okay?' While all the grandchildren chorused their understanding, Wayne had to be different. 'I don't believe in any of this. This is so stupid. Why would anyone want to offer food to dead people? Some more, must bow to them. So dumb,' he complained. 'Wayne, this is not the way to talk to your ancestors. They are listening to you and will be angered by what you say. Apologize now!' Turning around, she held her hands together in a prayer and I could hear her say, 'Please forgive Wayne. he is still a young boy and has a lot to learn.'
Reproached, my cousin had started to sulk and refused to talk to anyone else. It was not a real pity because all of us there never liked the spoiled brat, and not many enjoyed a conversation with him. 'Wayne, come and help grandma burn all these things,' my grandmother called. Wayne looked about to refuse when he saw the look on his father's face. Without saying anything, he followed my grandmother out to burn the incense papers. Outside, he did not really help in burning the papers, but instead stood around complaining. 'It's so hot. I don't know why you call me out to smell the smoke.' 'Wayne, its not that grandma here wants to pick on you, but you really have no manners. Today is a day that we pay our respects to our ancestors, and thank them for looking over us. How can you be so ungrateful?' The expression on Wayne's face soured. After that, he kept quiet because he knew that anything he say would earn him another scolding. He stood there still, looking at us as we tossed the incense papers into the burner. After a while, he lost his patience, and he started to look around.
A white truck happened to pass by my house. My cousin looked at it and his mouth dropped wide open. I looked at the truck, but did not see anything amiss. 'Wayne? Wayne, are you alright?' My grandmother then tapped on his shoulder upon seeing the sudden fear in his face. 'I... I... saaaww somethhhingg on the truck,' he could only stammer as tears welled in his eyes. Without any reason, he hugged my grandmother tightly and cried. When we got back into the house, my cousin was still sobbing and he was hugging my grandmother tightly. It took a lot of consoling before he could finally open up and tell us. Apparently, he had seen a lady in white suspended in mid air above the lorry and she was waving at him. Knowing that we did not see it, he was convinced he saw an apparition. Totally contrite, he apologized to my grandmother for being rude and disrespectful to the dead earlier. Worried that the earlier apparition might come back and haunt him, my grandfather made my cousin wear a fu around his neck. This time, my cousin took it without any objection.
One of my uncles owned a restaurant business, and the work would always cause him to be late for the gathering. That day, it was nearly six in the evening when he left his restaurant. He park his car far away from the other cars, in the isolated basement because he did not want his precious Mercedes Benz scratched. Just as he was about to open the car door, a gust of chilly wind swept past him. Stunned, he scanned the enclosed basement for the source, but saw only empty parking lots, with only a few parked cars. However, from a corner of the car park, he saw a glaring light shining on him. A lady in white seated in the rear passenger seat caught his attention. Thinking that it might be a lady having car troubles, he approached the car, trying to help. Strangely enough, the nearer he was to the car, the brighter the headlights become. Mu uncle's eyes were half closed, trying to shield from the powerful headlights when he was almost reaching the lady's car.
Suddenly, the headlights went off. It took mu uncle some time to get used to the dim light of the car park. When he could finally see, he saw a lady dressed in white walking past him. Being a curious man, he decided to follow that lady. However, when he reached the other end of the parking lot, he was horrified as to what he saw. There was an undertaker's van with a coffin inside. Without much thought, he turned back and ran straight to his car. Before driving off, he made sure that his car was empty right from the front seat, to the back of the car. He was worried that the lady might decide to harass him and follow him back home. it was dark when he reached my house. We were almost done with dinner. He told my grandparents about the incident. My grandfather prescribed my uncle two fus to ward off evil spirits, one to be worn at all times and the other to be pasted on the front door of his house. He warned that harm might befall my uncle if he should take it off. He also scolded him for missing the ceremony.
'Papa, you all prayed enough... I don't need ancestral protection.' My uncle was too practical to take my grandfather's word seriously. He did accept the fus from my grandfather and put one on to pacify the elder. He forgot to stick the other one on his front door. Later, I heard that my uncle was found dead in his bathroom the next morning. Apparently, he took the fu off while taking a shower. The autopsy report later revealed that he died of a cardiac arrest while bathing. We knew differently of course, having found the two fus, in the paper basket of his bedroom. It was in fact a tragic day for our family. However from that day onwards, we realized the important role our ancestors played in watching over us, and respected every advice our grandfather has to give.
