Hungry Ghost Festival : making amends with ancestors

Food is so central to East and Southeast Asian culture, that it is no real surprise that even the ghosts get hungry.  

The festival of The Hungry Ghosts takes place on the 15th day of the 7th lunar month (making it September 2nd in 2020), and it is an opportunity to ask one's ancestors for forgiveness.  

1st attempt
char siu bau

Oddly enough, this actually co-incided with the day I decided to make char siu bau for the first time in my life (sweet roast pork in the fluffy dumpling-like bun).  They weren't anywhere near good enough to make the cut as an offering for my ancestors...my grandpa's cooking was truly phenomenal - crispy pork, king prawns, and satay were just a few of the dishes anyone who tried it will still speak of - and I'm sad that my husband never had the chance.  However, for a first attempt I wasn't too unhappy.

The story behind this festival is that any restless souls would roam the earth, and offerings would be made to that they can go in peace.  It is a time for makeshift altars, entertainment - Chinese Operas would be performed with the front row saved for the spirits, as well as parades with huge effigies including one of "The King of Ghosts".

Lotus candles
in Penang

During the festival it is common to burn incense and replica money - the idea in Chinese culture is that death is a continuation of life, and passed ancesters need money and food in their new world too.  Feasts would be prepared, with spaces at the table left for the departed, and at the end of the night, a lotus candle or a lantern would be burned to show the ghosts their return path.

This is not a festival I have commonly observed, although it was always spoken of, but it seems as good a time as any to use it to reflect a little on my grandpa.

My Grandpa in Malacca - he loved fishing

"May I arrange my life everyday in every way in such a manner that when my time comes to leave this world, I shall be unafraid to go and shall have the knowledge that I left the world at least a little better than it was when I came into it." (CK Seet, Discourses on Buddhism, 1951)

This is a prayer which my grandpa included in his book.  He was a Buddhist teacher although he did not practice overtly when he came to the UK.  I wish I had taken the time to listen to him when I was young, but then that's often the case isn't it.  It's only now that I have started to realise some things are too far in the past.  Saying that, it was as much my surprise as anyone else's that I ended up writing a book on mindfulness, which started out as a psychologist pooh-poohing the popularisation and hype of the "buzzword" - and ended up as something quite spiritual, including quoting my grandpa's teaching.  I believe it is through that process I began to nurture a greater philosophical outlook on life which remains today.

Discources on Buddhism (1951)and Grandpa's camellia 

Two days ago, the mother of a dear friend of mine passed away, and I found myself looking in my grandpa's book for words of comfort to express - I settled on "We live in a world of flowers and trees, rivers and lakes, montains and sunshine.  Nature is bright and comforting to those who will accept comfort." (Seet, 1951), and I will, in place of my own "positive quotes", be sharing his writing on my instagram page (@draudreyt) over the coming week.

As well as his talents in cooking, my grandpa was also a great gardener...an ability which never made it to me - I'm delighted I've been able to keep a housewarming orchid, and a rose bush alive for over a year.  The garden of every house we lived in was always flourishing with tomato plants and beautiful flowers.  Although the front garden of our family home in Hastings was never the same after he died, we were still able to save some of the camellias from the tree he planted, which my husband and I wore at my mum's funeral.

Journal Article by my Grandpa

And of course, he was a published author.  As well as "Discourses on Buddhism", I'd read his account of his round the world trip in his company magazine, and I was delighted to realise he is even cited in a respected journal on SE Asian studies!!  He ignighted my interest in reading, he would read to me every day at breakfast when I was a child.  He also walked me to and from school, and, as one of my friends recalled at a recent 40 year reunion, "Took us all to the park across the road."  My grandpa was a very kind man.

circa 1979

Seet Chee Kim was one of 5 brothers and one adopted sister.  They all passed before him Seet Chee Peng (59, heart attack), Seet Chee Eng (62, bone cancer), Seet Chee Kiat (50, Leprocy), Seet Chee Wee (49, TB) - grandpa lived to 98.  My mum's care, I believe, was a huge part of that.  Recently, speaking with my grand aunt Janet (my grandma's sister), she also spoke fondly of him.  He was a Baba (his lineage dated back to the original Straits settlers in the 14/15 century), fluent in Malay and English, rising from the role of clerk to secretary in chief at Dunlop.  He came to the UK in the mid-70's - and while he and my grandma took citizenship (my parents we already both teachers in the UK and British Citizens themselves), the had a form of "dispensation".  In 1867  the Straits Settlements had become a "Crown Colony" meaning that "blue blood" Babas - like my grandfather - were considered British subjects (Malaysian independance affected the automatic acceptance as British from any Straits settlers, but the link was there.)

Sek Eenh Kia Temple - where my grandpa taught Buddhism

As life in Malacca had changed following the occupation, I believe my grandpa found retirement in the UK a welcomed relief from tradition and expectation, and he spent his time as I've said earlier, reading with me, cooking and gardening - things his own family would have had someone else do.  On a recent visit to Malaysia prior to moving house we considered whether Grandpa would have wanted us to bring his ashes back - and as much as he was a pillar of his society, I think he was at peace in the UK without the pomp and circumstance of Malacca (or Melaka as it is now).  Instead, we scattered them (with mum, and her dog Peach) in our "new" garden and planted said rose bush - and I've got a camellia shrub arriving next week to join it...we'll see eh!?

One regret I have is not taking the time to learn more from my grandpa when I had the opportunity.  This is probably not too unusual a thought.  Related one thing I am ashamed about is that it has taken me this long - he died in 2013, to really think about it that way.

My grandparents

Once again, however, his book brings some solace:  

"On Tolerance:  ...there may be a person who is more highly evolved that we are and who may suggest ideas which we cannot grasp.  We should not try to force ourselves to accept them, but to realise that, as time goes on, such ideals will be revealed to us in their true perspective...everything in nature evolves step by step, line by line, including ourselves."  (Seet, 1951)

To blend this with my own approach, three things help us in overcoming regret:

1. Forgiving yourself and others - so that you spend less time and energy worrying about the shadow, instead moving towards the light.

2.  Giving back - which I believe has enhanced my work as much as it has helped me share his.

3.  Learning the lesson and telling the story well.  Perhaps it took me longer than expected to "grow" - but it is never too late.

Perhaps my offering to my grandpa is being able to recreate and modernise his recipes of food for thought to nurture personal growth.