I was in second grade or third grade when the MOMA came to town. That is, the grand opening of the new museum in San Francisco. My teacher, Ms. Mok, passed flyers to her students to let us know about the grand opening. She suggested we all go as it was free and there would be activities as well.
It was downtown and my family always bought our groceries in Chinatown on the weekends. So it wasn't too much trouble to walk downtown to check it out. We (my sister, father and I) probably got there sometime after noon. Boy was the line long! It wrapped around the entire block! And then some!
I don't remember much about that day, or that afternoon even. I remember there was a tent set up outside with refreshments and games and little art activities for kids. There was this set up where you could decorate a brick and then plop it on top of the other bricks when you were done. It was probably some kind of temporary art installation. And there was music and people milling about. We were still in line technically so as soon as I was done in the tent we continued onward. To where? I don't remember. But onward we went.
We were probably in line for about two hours before calling it quits and heading back to join my mom who was still grocery shopping.
Why do I tell this story?
To this day I have not step foot in the MOMA. Actually, I've not yet experienced most of the museums in San Francisco's SOMA (south of Market area) or downtown area.
Maybe I should go sometime and finish what I started.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Marriage for The Unmarried Soul
Marriage and family; life and death; ancestors and descendants. These dichotomies have always played a very important and integrated role in Chinese life. Though I am very much an American, it was instilled in me the importance of acknowledging my heritage, loyalty to my ancestors, and that the parent-child relationship was a reciprocal one -- mom and dad cares for me now so that I may care for them in their old age. Upon a person's death, your responsibilities to one another did not cease. The child and future descendants maintain the familial grave sites, burn joss paper (hell notes), and serve tea to provide for them in their afterlife. In return, the parents and other ancestors maintain protection over your life on earth until you join them later. Unlike other cultures, in this way, the Chinese relationships crossed realms and were not severed just because corporeally you were no longer together.
When my family and I visited our home village in southern China, we made a trip into the city to run some errands and do some shopping. But before we did that, we made a short visit with a relative -- my mother's "elder sister". I could not understand, at that moment, why we were visiting her or who she really was. I knew my mother did not have any sisters in China; they were all in America now. I knew she had one elder sister who died at a very young age but all living siblings were accounted for. So who was this woman?
The Chinese language is an odd one. The words/characters can either be very specific or very vague in usage, application, and meaning. In this case, the term "sister" was used somewhat loosely. She was not, in fact, the biological sister of my mother, but, rather, a sister-in-law of sorts.
In pre-modern China (and perhaps even today), there is/was an old belief (or, superstition, to non-believers) that a person who should die unmarried would not be permitted to the afterlife and, therefore, become a haunting ghost. As I mentioned before, marriage and family, life and death, ancestors and descendants are very important, interconnected concepts. An unmarried person and a childless person is not considered to be "whole" and is one who have not led a very meaningful life. An unmarried person, particularly an unmarried woman, is thought to be in limbo, neither belonging to her father's family nor her martial family (because she has none). And if you are unmarried, then you are also very likely childless. You have no family to belong to AND you have no descendants to provide for you on Earth as you make your way through the afterlife, so to speak. In this way, you are a very troubled soul.
To rectify this situation, there are many ways family members can restore the balance to the soul of the dead. You may find another person who died around the same time and perform a wedding ceremony so that both souls are joined together in the afterlife. Apparently, a living man may have sex with a dead woman and bring her back to life while suffering his own death (scary, isn't it?). Or, if you know your child will die very soon, you may do what my grandmother thought she had to do for her child -- you find a son who is also fated to die and unite them in matrimony while they are still living so that both children can make a smooth transition to the afterlife without ever experiencing limbo.
The "sister" (aunt, in my case) we visited, as it turns out, was either the sister or the sister-in-law of the son who married my mother's real sister. I have only heard of this sort of belief/superstition once, on television, in one of those crime shows. I forget the name of the program but it is the one about people who are reported missing. The woman/mother on that episode lost her son and convinced her son's living girlfriend to participate in the wedding ceremony in order to enter the afterlife. However, here's the catch, you can only marry one soul to another. You cannot marry a living person to a soul, at least not according to this Chinese belief. If you dig around, you'll see that this type of "ghost marriage" between a ghost/soul to a living human being does exist in another culture (some kind of small tribe in India or Africa... I forget).
I did not think much about the plot to this episode and was surprised such folk-y tradition existed among modern Chinese people, especially those living in the United States. I was equally surprised to know that my grandmother was so superstitious as we have never been a religious or spiritual type of family, though we did believe in certain traditions, superstitions, and feng shui. Still, it was a shock.
As my mother's elder sister's death deeply troubled my grandmother, she and any in-laws from this union were never mentioned. It was a forbidden subject and in a very, very sad way, it was as if my aunt never really existed.
Her memory is practically non-existent if we examine how grandparents chose to give out names to my mom and her siblings. The way they named their children, every pair of sons and daughters shared the same first character. In total, they had seven children, only six are living.
Wai Sam (son)
Rui Fang (daughter)
(I don't know her name but my late aunt, who was third eldest, did have the character "Rui" in her name)
Rui Ying (my mother)
Wai Ken (son)
Woon Yia (daughter)
Woon Yio (daughter)
As you see, we have two Wai's, two Rui's, and two Woon's. You would have never known that there once was a child born before my mother because they chose to pass on the "Rui" name to my mother and leading us to think she was really the third child.
I am kind of sad that my second aunt is such a taboo subject but I was very happy that my parents paid a visit to what should have been and kind of is my mother's sister-in-law. By doing that and by calling her "sister", my parents acknowledged that there is a side of our family that still exists, however shunned and hidden. And, in a silly, superficial way, it gave me a story to tell and compelled me to do a bit of research on Chinese beliefs surrounding death.
*I do have the URL addresses to back up some of the information provided in my story and will link to them another time.
When my family and I visited our home village in southern China, we made a trip into the city to run some errands and do some shopping. But before we did that, we made a short visit with a relative -- my mother's "elder sister". I could not understand, at that moment, why we were visiting her or who she really was. I knew my mother did not have any sisters in China; they were all in America now. I knew she had one elder sister who died at a very young age but all living siblings were accounted for. So who was this woman?
The Chinese language is an odd one. The words/characters can either be very specific or very vague in usage, application, and meaning. In this case, the term "sister" was used somewhat loosely. She was not, in fact, the biological sister of my mother, but, rather, a sister-in-law of sorts.
In pre-modern China (and perhaps even today), there is/was an old belief (or, superstition, to non-believers) that a person who should die unmarried would not be permitted to the afterlife and, therefore, become a haunting ghost. As I mentioned before, marriage and family, life and death, ancestors and descendants are very important, interconnected concepts. An unmarried person and a childless person is not considered to be "whole" and is one who have not led a very meaningful life. An unmarried person, particularly an unmarried woman, is thought to be in limbo, neither belonging to her father's family nor her martial family (because she has none). And if you are unmarried, then you are also very likely childless. You have no family to belong to AND you have no descendants to provide for you on Earth as you make your way through the afterlife, so to speak. In this way, you are a very troubled soul.
To rectify this situation, there are many ways family members can restore the balance to the soul of the dead. You may find another person who died around the same time and perform a wedding ceremony so that both souls are joined together in the afterlife. Apparently, a living man may have sex with a dead woman and bring her back to life while suffering his own death (scary, isn't it?). Or, if you know your child will die very soon, you may do what my grandmother thought she had to do for her child -- you find a son who is also fated to die and unite them in matrimony while they are still living so that both children can make a smooth transition to the afterlife without ever experiencing limbo.
The "sister" (aunt, in my case) we visited, as it turns out, was either the sister or the sister-in-law of the son who married my mother's real sister. I have only heard of this sort of belief/superstition once, on television, in one of those crime shows. I forget the name of the program but it is the one about people who are reported missing. The woman/mother on that episode lost her son and convinced her son's living girlfriend to participate in the wedding ceremony in order to enter the afterlife. However, here's the catch, you can only marry one soul to another. You cannot marry a living person to a soul, at least not according to this Chinese belief. If you dig around, you'll see that this type of "ghost marriage" between a ghost/soul to a living human being does exist in another culture (some kind of small tribe in India or Africa... I forget).
I did not think much about the plot to this episode and was surprised such folk-y tradition existed among modern Chinese people, especially those living in the United States. I was equally surprised to know that my grandmother was so superstitious as we have never been a religious or spiritual type of family, though we did believe in certain traditions, superstitions, and feng shui. Still, it was a shock.
As my mother's elder sister's death deeply troubled my grandmother, she and any in-laws from this union were never mentioned. It was a forbidden subject and in a very, very sad way, it was as if my aunt never really existed.
Her memory is practically non-existent if we examine how grandparents chose to give out names to my mom and her siblings. The way they named their children, every pair of sons and daughters shared the same first character. In total, they had seven children, only six are living.
Wai Sam (son)
Rui Fang (daughter)
(I don't know her name but my late aunt, who was third eldest, did have the character "Rui" in her name)
Rui Ying (my mother)
Wai Ken (son)
Woon Yia (daughter)
Woon Yio (daughter)
As you see, we have two Wai's, two Rui's, and two Woon's. You would have never known that there once was a child born before my mother because they chose to pass on the "Rui" name to my mother and leading us to think she was really the third child.
I am kind of sad that my second aunt is such a taboo subject but I was very happy that my parents paid a visit to what should have been and kind of is my mother's sister-in-law. By doing that and by calling her "sister", my parents acknowledged that there is a side of our family that still exists, however shunned and hidden. And, in a silly, superficial way, it gave me a story to tell and compelled me to do a bit of research on Chinese beliefs surrounding death.
*I do have the URL addresses to back up some of the information provided in my story and will link to them another time.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
What Could Have Been
A favorite story between my mother and me is the one where I, a wee baby/toddler, escape from our home and manage to return safe and sound. This was 1988 and we were living in a house in a neighborhood called Lakeview. It wasn't and still isn't the best part of town. There were not many Asian families in this mostly African-American neighborhood. There were not many Asian families in SF at this time. Period.
So... it is no surprise how shocked and scared my mother probably was when she discovered my father had fallen asleep (he was supposed to watch me) with the door unlocked. My mother left to purchase a lotto ticket from a store across the street.
No one knows what really happened after I managed to turn the knob, open the door, and leave the premises. Only those on the street (we lived on the "busy" commercial street of this neighborhood with a MUNI train line running across) who saw me can attest to what happened. I, unfortunately, was too young to remember a darn thing.
My parents only know that, after my mother returned home to a child-less house, I had managed to crawl/walk back to our house. Apparently, some kind gentlemen had followed behind me to see where I would go. And, I guess, to also make sure I was not in harm's way.
It is a bit terrifying and also very intriguing to know that any number of things could have resulted in a less than happy ending.
There's the obvious: scenarios about less than standup men/women who could have kidnapped me, no one noticing me or caring enough to look out for my safety, or I just did not know how to get home. And then there's just the simple fact that even caring people can make a poor choice of action.
Think about it. When we see young children and babies who are lost, what do we do? Those of us who are concerned and who are not so busy that we ignore them, we pick them up or take their hands to search for their parents. We either stay where we are or we walk around or we find the nearest information center or police precinct (depending on if you are in a store, mall or just out and about). What would have happened had someone decided to pick me up (for my safety)? Would I have been able to find my way home? And what made those men decide to just follow me instead of picking me up or taking me away from where they found me?
I have gathered two things from this story: 1) Babies are very intelligent, and 2) I could have been adopted (illegally) and leading a very different life from the one I know and (for the most part) love.
So... it is no surprise how shocked and scared my mother probably was when she discovered my father had fallen asleep (he was supposed to watch me) with the door unlocked. My mother left to purchase a lotto ticket from a store across the street.
No one knows what really happened after I managed to turn the knob, open the door, and leave the premises. Only those on the street (we lived on the "busy" commercial street of this neighborhood with a MUNI train line running across) who saw me can attest to what happened. I, unfortunately, was too young to remember a darn thing.
My parents only know that, after my mother returned home to a child-less house, I had managed to crawl/walk back to our house. Apparently, some kind gentlemen had followed behind me to see where I would go. And, I guess, to also make sure I was not in harm's way.
It is a bit terrifying and also very intriguing to know that any number of things could have resulted in a less than happy ending.
There's the obvious: scenarios about less than standup men/women who could have kidnapped me, no one noticing me or caring enough to look out for my safety, or I just did not know how to get home. And then there's just the simple fact that even caring people can make a poor choice of action.
Think about it. When we see young children and babies who are lost, what do we do? Those of us who are concerned and who are not so busy that we ignore them, we pick them up or take their hands to search for their parents. We either stay where we are or we walk around or we find the nearest information center or police precinct (depending on if you are in a store, mall or just out and about). What would have happened had someone decided to pick me up (for my safety)? Would I have been able to find my way home? And what made those men decide to just follow me instead of picking me up or taking me away from where they found me?
I have gathered two things from this story: 1) Babies are very intelligent, and 2) I could have been adopted (illegally) and leading a very different life from the one I know and (for the most part) love.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
All in a Name
Antiquarian can mean different things. It is defined in one instance via Dictionary.com as: "of the study or collection of antiquities". I stretch the meaning further with the addition of "Memories" to this blog's title. Thereby, producing a meaning that represents the purpose of this blog: "of the study or collection of antique/vintage/old memories". Et voila! We have defined my mission here.
After my travels to China (where my family originates), I have discovered many untold tales. Of shame. Of greed. Of guilt. Things my parents would prefer to hide under the rug. I cannot remember how many times my parents told me to not discuss this further with anyone else (family or otherwise) after explaining who just met or how we are related -- I met many a distant relative while on this sojourn. I lost track, but I'm sure my mother said "hush" many a time.
I refuse to keep quiet. I revel in the indiscretions and the flaws of my ancestors. It is these tales from which branches of families grow. It is these moments that define our future. And it is these sad stories that explain why we are here now and not another time.
And, quite frankly, it makes me proud to have a colorful past. The happy Brady Bunch families are boring. For a long time, I thought I came from such a family and, boy, was that boring to share!
The intrigues, they keep me going. The intrigues, they tell me of my past. The intrigues, that's how I've come to understand what being Chinese was like decades ago.
In the coming weeks and months I will reveal the many facets of my life and, in many ways, those of my relatives and family members. I will share a memory from my own childhood and stories I've only heard but never experienced. Someday, I hope to produce a book, a family memoir of sorts to share with my children and my cousin's children and maybe even my sister's children. In time, I will also create family genealogies, something sorely lacking in America are family genealogies of Asian heritages. I hope to contribute and make a positive mark on the lives of those I know and will come to know.
Shirley
After my travels to China (where my family originates), I have discovered many untold tales. Of shame. Of greed. Of guilt. Things my parents would prefer to hide under the rug. I cannot remember how many times my parents told me to not discuss this further with anyone else (family or otherwise) after explaining who just met or how we are related -- I met many a distant relative while on this sojourn. I lost track, but I'm sure my mother said "hush" many a time.
I refuse to keep quiet. I revel in the indiscretions and the flaws of my ancestors. It is these tales from which branches of families grow. It is these moments that define our future. And it is these sad stories that explain why we are here now and not another time.
And, quite frankly, it makes me proud to have a colorful past. The happy Brady Bunch families are boring. For a long time, I thought I came from such a family and, boy, was that boring to share!
The intrigues, they keep me going. The intrigues, they tell me of my past. The intrigues, that's how I've come to understand what being Chinese was like decades ago.
In the coming weeks and months I will reveal the many facets of my life and, in many ways, those of my relatives and family members. I will share a memory from my own childhood and stories I've only heard but never experienced. Someday, I hope to produce a book, a family memoir of sorts to share with my children and my cousin's children and maybe even my sister's children. In time, I will also create family genealogies, something sorely lacking in America are family genealogies of Asian heritages. I hope to contribute and make a positive mark on the lives of those I know and will come to know.
Shirley
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