I had a dream not so long ago where I was, for some reason, involved in what appeared to be World War 3: Dinosaurs versus Transformers. I was the captain of an army of Transformers battling against the dark forces of the world. The most vivid memory I have of the dream was the scene where I kept shouting, "Don't hurt the dinosaurs! DON'T HURT THE DINOSAURS!!"
As unconventional as I am, or perhaps I should say, try to be, I love the dinosaurs. Blame it on AU, Park Place, Seminary or the forces of nature, but I cannot help it. I have a deep, deep love for tradition.
Which is an inconvenient passion to carry given that I weave in and out of cultures and geographical locations way too frequently.
Every Chinese New Year since the move to Anderson, the festivities have looked different, but I cannot move on with life if I don't, in one way or another, honour that tradition. Sure, some years the festivities have required a little more creativity than others, but that is to be expected, ay?
I take pride in my ability to converse with my grandmas in at least Mandarin, and if possible, also the dialect they speak, and the fact that just this week, I've found a new Hokkien conversational partner on the Peninsula with the Malaysian auntie who works at the $2 shop--even if our conversations conclude with her telling me to "slow slow find red hair husband" (the not-so-literal translation: take your time to find a white husband).
My day was blessed today when I walked in to St Paul's (the Anglican church that owns the building we rent) for their Ash Wednesday service because I got to connect with the wider Church through an ancient ritual--another tradition inherited with my Christian heritage. (The fact that I was the only one there below the age of 50, and that the only person in a robe this morning was a woman of course adds to the perks).
At SUPAkidz today, we joined the rest of Matipo Primary in observing two minutes of silence to mark the anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake. I have a feeling that is going to be another tradition that I would want to honour.
Growing up, celebrating Chinese New Year had always been a big deal. But I think it's fair to say that until I moved to a culture where it didn't matter to anyone, I kinda took those festivities for granted. In having to find new and unconventional ways to honour these traditions now, I feel like I've been forced to strip the festivities down to its heart to figure out what the essentials are. And when you have to do that, it kinda forces you to stop and think, and reflect on why we do the things we do.
Yes, I'm nerdy about traditions. I cannot help it. I love the dinosaurs.
But I love even more that the dinosaurs remind me to not take the Transformers for granted.
As unconventional as I am, or perhaps I should say, try to be, I love the dinosaurs. Blame it on AU, Park Place, Seminary or the forces of nature, but I cannot help it. I have a deep, deep love for tradition.
Which is an inconvenient passion to carry given that I weave in and out of cultures and geographical locations way too frequently.
Every Chinese New Year since the move to Anderson, the festivities have looked different, but I cannot move on with life if I don't, in one way or another, honour that tradition. Sure, some years the festivities have required a little more creativity than others, but that is to be expected, ay?
I take pride in my ability to converse with my grandmas in at least Mandarin, and if possible, also the dialect they speak, and the fact that just this week, I've found a new Hokkien conversational partner on the Peninsula with the Malaysian auntie who works at the $2 shop--even if our conversations conclude with her telling me to "slow slow find red hair husband" (the not-so-literal translation: take your time to find a white husband).
My day was blessed today when I walked in to St Paul's (the Anglican church that owns the building we rent) for their Ash Wednesday service because I got to connect with the wider Church through an ancient ritual--another tradition inherited with my Christian heritage. (The fact that I was the only one there below the age of 50, and that the only person in a robe this morning was a woman of course adds to the perks).
At SUPAkidz today, we joined the rest of Matipo Primary in observing two minutes of silence to mark the anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake. I have a feeling that is going to be another tradition that I would want to honour.
Growing up, celebrating Chinese New Year had always been a big deal. But I think it's fair to say that until I moved to a culture where it didn't matter to anyone, I kinda took those festivities for granted. In having to find new and unconventional ways to honour these traditions now, I feel like I've been forced to strip the festivities down to its heart to figure out what the essentials are. And when you have to do that, it kinda forces you to stop and think, and reflect on why we do the things we do.
Yes, I'm nerdy about traditions. I cannot help it. I love the dinosaurs.
But I love even more that the dinosaurs remind me to not take the Transformers for granted.
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