It is that time of year again. Red streamers cascaded over the doorway, framed by crimson Chinese couplets while shiny little trinkets dangled from the branches of the newly-bought pussy willows. Kumquat trees pendant with golden fruit graced the entrance to the house, expressing a wish for wealth and prosperity. The predominant colour of the house was red. There were red drapes over the front door to repel demons and they also symbalise happiness and prosperity. Goodies such as pineapple tarts, melon seeds and sweet meats on the coffee table tempted visitors.
It was the first day of Chinese New Year at Kenneth’s house. Visitors were pouring in. Adults sat at the dining table, catching up with each other while munching on melon seeds and other auspicious tidbits. The elders sat on the sofa, laughing and joking as they reminisced over the old days. There were cacophonous exchanges in dialects and “Greed is good” songs were blasting from the speakers. It was a time raw and full of the festive spirit.
Kenneth was playing with the Xbox in front of the television in the room with his cousins, enjoying himself thoroughly, oblivious to the buzz outside. Kenneth felt bemused and alienated at his grandfather’s house, thus, he was glad to be able to play with the Xbox, something that he did everyday back in America. He was not used to speaking mandarin as his parents had migrated to the United States years ago. However, news of his grandfather’s ailing health had reached Kenneth’s family, resulting in their family returning to Singapore to celebrate the Chinese New Year. When Kenneth’s turn at the Xbox was over, he moved away to sit in a corner. His mother tapped him on the shoulder and asked him in Americanised English, “Kenneth, are you enjoying yourself?” He turned around and she saw a frowned etched on her face.
When it was lunch time, Kenneth and the other children finally came out of the room. Kenneth felt himself drawn to the strange dialects the elders spoke and he also enjoyed the tidbits. Just then, his cousin asked him if he wanted pizza. Kenneth nodded his head as he saw the food that was laid out on the table. The elders boasted of their specially prepared dishes for Chinese New Year. There was a wide spread, from abalone, braised duck to clay pot. One of Kenneth’s cousin tried a little and grimaces. “Ah Kong, why are all of these so tasteless?” he asked his grandfather. His grandfather shook his head in disappointment and told him that they were traditional dishes made from the recipe that was passed down for many generations. Just as he said that, Kenneth’s cousin spat out some bachang. He argued that cheesy pizzas, fried chicken and fries were much better.
Kenneth and the other children settled in the living room. Chinese wayang was specially shown on television for the Chinese New Year. They did not stop to look at what was it about before switching the channel to watch their favourite cartoon shows. Some adults came over to offer them some lotus seeds. All of them enjoyed the seeds. One of them blurted out,” They are just like candy!” “No, they are lotus seeds,” one of the adults replied. However, his words fell on deaf ears as the children continued watching television and munching on their “candy”.
In the night, there were organized festivities on the ground floor for the HDB residents. Some of the children lamented at the lion dance and wished for fireworks. As Kenneth watched the festivities, he was reminded of his culture, his roots, and he thought:” I am proud to be a Chinese.” In English.
