Hungry Ghost Festival

The other day a tiny-house-sized object appeared in the park we can see from our window. It looked officially sanctioned with a fence around it. We went for an evening walk and discovered a bamboo scaffold set up on the neighborhood soccer court. the scaffold wasn’t for a construction project, it created a stage and a whole court of spaces. On the stage were brightly colored dancers and singers making a lot of racket, no sorry, Chinese opera music, Screechy, trilly, unintelligible, gong-punctuated songs. In another section was a vendor selling the incense sticks buddhists use when they pray. Next to that was a shrine full of incense sticks and other symbolic things. Movement in it caught my eye, there was a little box with paper dolls dancing around. it must’ve been on some kind of motor. We left with a new fascination of our little neighborhood and the mystery of what this spectacle meant.

Well, we asked our friends the next day. After some internet research we were told it was the Hungry Ghost Festival. I still didn’t have much of an idea what that meant. We thought ok that’s going on and now we can carry on with our week. The Hungry Ghosts were not so easily put off though. The tiny-house-sized object in the park began smoking. Of course, It is a big enclosed metal fireplace to burn paper prayers(?). Wow, that’s neat, except we’re in a steaming city of millions of people. I said steaming because it is ever so hot these days and a public furnace seems unnecessary. I said millions of people because the thing smokes nonstop with the bagfuls of paper being thrown into it. We can smell it inside our apartment at times.

It’s exotic and I don’t really mind it. It’s nice of the city to provide a big fireplace for the ritual as well. That doesn’t stop people from starting fires in the streets though. At times in the evening on the back streets there are little fires on each block. Jill said she’d been told me this was going for a whole month. I woke up with a runny nose this morning. It’s exotic! and I don’t really mind it! Actually I’m learning to like it!

Last night Jill had supper with her colleagues. I was on my own. There wasn’t much food in the house. I knew this because I’d eaten the last meal-sized portion for lunch. So, I went outside alone. I went to the municipal food centre down the street. These places exist in most neighborhoods.

I have fond memories of eating at the one in the Mong Kok neighborhood six years ago. I stayed in Mong Kok for a couple weeks when I got a new Chinese visa or something. On the ground floor is a meat market, first floor is fruit and vegetables, and the second floor is a cooked food centre which is where I was headed. It’s all provided by the city and ostensibly held to some standard of cleanliness. The cooked food centre is like a mall’s food court except the kitchens are open to see and it’s as local as can be. There is no thematic decoration scheme. It’s ugly and messy. I found several cats waiting patiently in an office nook. Anyway, I chose a place and sat down because some kind waitresses tried to help me. She said there was an online menu I could translate. It wasn’t able to translate but there were some photos and prices, no problem. Ok, well the photos weren’t clear and the prices seemed high. I scrolled and scrolled looking for low prices and kind of gathered together a few side dishes. the total price was still like $200 when a single meal should be less than $100. So I asked for the paper menu that they’d briefly shown me before. I translated the name of the place and it said something like seafood palace. It was pretty obvious it was big group kind of restaurant. I apologized and left the cooked food centre rather than try one of their competitors across the room.

I walked down the street wondering where to go. None of my choices seemed correct and I resigned myself to going back to a chicken place Jill and I had eaten lunch at once. On the way though, I walked past what I was looking for, a cafeteria style restaurant. Inside was a busy restaurant with a smiling cashier and counter man. They gave me a bowl of rice and three side dishes for $45. I sat down at a table with a guy who was devouring some chicken wings. He never looked at me but a couple at the next table greeted me warmly. I ate my steamed bok choy, scrambled eggs, and pineapple pork (or beef). The cashier spoke Mandarin Chinese to a customer and the woman behind me complimented her on it. I joined in and said it was very good. They asked if I spoke Mandarin and I said a little, then they asked if I spoke Cantonese and I said a little. It was really nice to have even a small social interaction with some strangers in this city. I left hoping to eat there many times in the coming years. I am no longer one of the hungry ghosts in the city.