
Chinese New Year comes around every year in February and every year our dining room table becomes a mini shrine of some sort filled with plates of fruit and other offerings to our ancestors and the house is filled with smoke from the lighted incense in celebration of this holiday. And every year that this happens I am confused because we are NOT Chinese. Its like as if my mom is celebrating Black History month to me. She might as well..if you're gonna go Chinese you might as well go Black too. I have never really asked my mom why she does this but this year we finally had the "talk."
"Mom, I'm not Chinese, are you?"
"No, I NO Chineese"
"Okay...then why are you celebrating it??"
"Just Cause..."
"...thats what people do..."
"...its good luck"
Oh, anything for that good Ole Luck. So who cares if we are Cambodian. Cambodian, Chinese, same thing everyone claims. We all probably got a little Chinese in all of us my cousins would say. And that is that. My mom's answers to important questions are as accurate as her cooking lessons. Her recipes would always consist of, "oh, just little this and little that."
"No measure. Just use your finger."
"I just know... that's when you know."
And that is that.
I always walk away with as much knowledge as I came in to it with. Nothing more, nothing less.
So its been decided: I am relying on BS to teach my kids about our family traditions and cultures. Love you!
And That is That.
