Intern Candice Chan demystifies the holiday that confounded her as a kid.
While I was growing up on the Peninsula, Chinese New Year (CNY) was a time when I couldn’t have felt more out of place. Filial piety, family unity, serving others instead of yourself; all that fun cultural heritage comes together on this holiday meant for starting anew and being with the people that you love. But, for an American Born Chinese (ABC) girl who knew more about cooking spaghetti than about cooking bak choy, the whole experience was strikingly similar to driving through thick fog on the Golden Gate bridge. Intimidation, uncertainty, and a whole lot of “what the hell is going on?” ran rampant in my mind. I knew red packets had money and that you were supposed to receive them with two hands, but did they hold some mystical meaning? And why was I eating funky food that looked more like it belonged on a tree than in my stomach? Top it all off with an inability to coherently communicate with my Grandparents – coupling phrases that resemble “Gung Hay Fat Choy!” with what I assumed to be appropriate gestures, doesn’t count – and you have some of the most awkward smiled silences and head nodding of my life. But, there was a saving grace: my cousins. Having all been born in the States, the joy and wonder of the unfamiliar food and customs we were experiencing became exactly what they were intended to be – a unifying force. Every strange dish became a topic for discussion, or a dare that couldn’t be turned down. One cousin’s mistake was another cousin’s intellectual manna, and as time went by we learned to love and appreciate all that the table and culture had to offer. As a tried and true survivor of learning about CNY the hard way, here are some tips to help you enjoy one of my favorite holidays; loved ones in tow and chopsticks in hand. (CNY this year is February 7th, 2008.)
