In Continuum.

Missing Ingredient

I did cartwheels in the middle of the departure hall seventeen years ago in Taiwan, not know a single word if English I departed for Singapore for the longest holiday of my life. At least that was the term my mother used on me when I asked about our trip there, and it turned out to be the longest vacation of my life. I am still in that holiday, and I can't say much about whether it has been a good or a bad one. A bit of both maybe, but all I can say is that there is something missing, because something just always is.

First night in Singapore, we slept in the house after the housing agent left us there. I recall the lady to be a little chubby and had thick black glasses on her nose. She was in a smart black suit and it was at night when she introduced the family to the empty house I am living in right now, with the same white tiles and the same white walls. The view outside the balcony changed just a tad bit, but other than that everything else was the same. We slept on mattresses in my parents' current bedroom, and fell into an uneasy sleep in this alien territory.

Chinese New Years haven't been the same after that day. It no longer mean as much as it used to when I was in Taiwan, that is if I remember what it meant to me when I was little. I've always believed that if you do not remember an experience then it is as good as having not experienced it at all, and I have no recollection of how new years were like when I was still in Taiwan. The only memories of it I have are the ones I made in Singapore, and never have I spent it with the whole family at the dinner table, having a true blue reunion dinner.

It is a curse and a blessing at the same time to have your relatives overseas during this time of the year. The curse is that they are in Taiwan and the blessing is that they are in Taiwan, too. You don't get to experience Chinese New Year the way your friends are, but at the same time you don't get to have awkward silences between relatives you hardly know and let's not forget the endless visitations to their homes. But something is always missing at the reunion dinner table, with the chairs filled by merely the four members of the family. There's nothing fundamentally wrong with that image, but I guess I miss having a bunch of the people I know gathered together on a day like that, however much I dread it. Or, am I making any sense?

It's been the same every year, steamboat with snacks afterwards. Late night tea with the family in front of the television and talking long into the night or gambling sometimes. I remember my father giving me a couple of two dollar notes last year only to win them all back by the end of the game. Not that I mind, but I guess in a way I just want to have a reason to look forward to Chinese New Year, the excitement to visit relatives although I dread them so very much, and not stay at home because everywhere is closed and that all your other friends are busy doing what normal people would do on Chinese New Years - visiting relatives. It's like a tradition that's been robbed of me only because I am in a place I wasn't born in.

At the dinner table today, my sister's face was black again. It is always black because my sister is probably the person with the worst temper in the world I have ever met. She got pissed off because my Dad did not chop the cabbages properly, she got pissed when my Dad accidentally toppled the can of sauce, she got pissed when I ate a piece of her sausage, she got pissed when my Dad took a sip of my mother's soda. Basically, throughout the whole dinner her face was pitch black and my Dad's red face due to the brandy sure wasn't helping.

There is a certain urge to grab her by the back of her head and plunge it into the boiling hot steamboat on the table, but I didn't want to spoil the beautiful dinner and besides, I loved the mushrooms floating around like flying saucers upon the surface of the soup. I am sure you are stressed out about your bloody homework, but please leave the school bullshit and the stress bullshit in your bloody room and not bring it to the dinner table, because I am fucking sick of all the little gestures of annoyance that you make, or the rolling of your eyes like you just don't give a fuck. Because some people in this house DO give a fuck about this occasion, and if you don't then that is too bad for you and you can fuck off into your room.

That aside, steamboat was great. I had my fill and everybody had theirs, though my mother accidentally scorched herself on the metal spoon and Dad was a little overboard with the alcohol. But all and all I thought it was a decent dinner considering my sister left the table sooner than most of us. Like any other years, after the dishes were cleared and the bowls were stacked in proper, everybody minded their own businesses. My sister dyed her own room black with that aura around her body, my mother busied herself in the kitchen while my father's hand went out of control with the snacks.

The truth is, I don't really care about the red packets anymore. I used to look forward to it because I used to get five red packets every year. One from each of my father's parents, one from my mom's mother(I was too young for her father to give me one, and he died early on my life), one from my uncle and aunt, and one from my parents together. I used to get excited about it, but after the deaths in the family red packets no longer are an excitement anymore. Sure, money is good. But I can live without them to be honest.

There is always something missing during my new year eves, a certain missing ingredient somewhere. But we have grown so used to the taste that we have forgotten that something is, because it isn't possible for us to fly all the way back to Taiwan for a mere two days or so. That's be a little stupid, but perhaps we will do that next year. But for now, it seems to be the same old routine as any other years, just locked inside the house and minding our own businesses, because none of us can visit anywhere because our friends won't be at home anyway.

We have to work around what we have and deal with what we have, and it certainly doesn't help when some individual decides to pull a long face at the table. As much as I am not a festive type of person, the least one can do is to have a good dinner with members of the family and not throw tantrums and the littlest of things. A new year and a new beginning, and still she is the same old person of yesteryears.