Many holidays occurred this week: Lunar New Year (ongoing celebration until the 20th), Mardi Gras/Shrove Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, and tomorrow, Valentine’s Day.
I’m sure at an earlier point in my life, I celebrated all these holidays in one week. But this year is different for me: it is my first time to partake in Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday, and the Lenten Season. I grew up in a Baptist church in my hometown; in my early 20s, I dabbled in nondenominational Christian churches. And this year, I found my way to the Episcopal Church.
In the Episcopal Church, I have found my family. I have found what I need to fulfill my religious needs. And, like a young child taking it all in for the first time, I am observing all that the church observes. It’s an exhilarating feeling…
…although, I also know, I must observe the holidays of my lineage: the Lunar New Year, the traditions through that, and the beliefs behind the Lunar New Year.
Maybe some think that my observance of Chinese and Christian holidays doesn’t add up; but I know I cannot forget where my ancestors came from. Both my Chinese heritage and the Christian tradition have resonated side by side throughout my whole life. I don’t see it as a conflict of religion/beliefs; I see it as my way (and my family’s way) of observing our mother heritage and our American upbringing in the Church.
It’s an interesting way of seeing life through two different lenses.
This thought had been circling around my mind all day yesterday: how parents protect children so much….but in the end, they cannot protect us from heartache [in relationships].
I will go ahead and be transparent: I never had a boyfriend until the age of 25 (just two years ago). And that was a roller coaster trauma of a relationship: alcoholism, secrets, manipulation … I’ve torn the chains away from that relationship, yet residual pain still seeps through.
And all this time I think about how, well, if only my parents could have protected me from ever letting that happen. Yet, they couldn’t. I can seek comfort in them over things, but they cannot fix everything for me. After all, how old am I now? I can’t just go crying to my parents like a four-year-old with a booboo. I need to suck it up and learn from my mistakes, no matter how big or small.
Sometimes I wish that I could have an arranged marriage. Then I wouldn’t need to deal with this constant searching, seeking, “you’re not good enough”, etc. etc. I find myself these days trying to protect my feelings by telling others how I am all about “no attachments” for the time being. I find that I often fall too fast too quickly…only to be hurt. I care too much and then I … end up hurting myself.
Of course, by telling myself “You cannot get attached,” I still do. And it hurts; every time I fall for someone new, I see them walk away with another woman. Someone better than I am? I can’t say, but my mind twists the situation that way. I always hear the same, comforting words of “You’ll find someone better.” And I hype myself up with this thought, but it only lasts for a little bit. Then I’m back to feeling like I won’t find a nice guy. It’s a vicious cycle for me.
There were a couple of ABC (American-born Chinese) teens on the bus this afternoon, and I felt more than amused by their conversation:
Girl 1: Did you know that New Zealand is a part of Australia? Girl 2: Everyone knew that except you. Boy 1: May I sit here? Girl 1: *rolls eyes* Sure, maybe…*sets her backpack down in the seat* Boy 2: I have to go to my tutoring session today. Girl 2: Tutoring, as in for what? Sylvan Learning Center?! Boy 1: Hooked on Phonics? *laughs* Girl 1: Here, sit down! Boy 1: On your backpack? Okay, but it’s going to have some butt stains on it…*laughs* Girl 1: Did you know that New Zealand is a part of Australia? Boy 1: I think you already said that. Girl 1: I thought it was all the way by Hawaii!
Eavesdropping and observing their behavior, I felt like I was seeing an image of what my life could have been like if I had grown up in San Francisco. These teenagers and their lives here in San Francisco are very different from what I experienced as a teenager. However, will they end up with different perspectives in adulthood as me, or will they end up with the same perspective somehow?
Whenever I walk along Clement Street, I find myself peaking into the Asian bakeries and grocery stores there. I look inside to see the familiar yet foreign things I have grown up with–the Chinese baked goods of buns, egg tarts, red bean paste anything, etc.
Looking at the food, I feel nostalgic for some reason. Despite the fact that I didn’t grow up with these shops near my childhood home, for some reason, I feel “at home” with these shops anyway. They evoke an emotion within me, of the fact that yes, I am indeed a Chinese person.
Just read about this on Jennifer 8. Lee‘s blog: Apparently there’s a movie screening in NYC right now for “Take Out,” which is about a Chinese delivery man having to work to pay off immigrant smugglers. I’m curious to watch this, merely from the account that Lee wrote about in her blog. Some people mistaked the movie as a documentary, but it really isn’t; just a purely fictional film (although the situation/incident outlined is not fictional; it does occur, as I know from observations).
I’m curious to see if the film will be screening outside of NYC; will it make it to the big screen eventually? It’s an indies film, so I guess maybe there’s not such a big chance, but I’m hoping I am wrong.