Wonder if they've received it...

EVERY SINGLE year I've been trying to make an excuse and get away with Cheng Beng, but never once it was a successful attempt. That's one thing you can't escape living in a conservative family. This day of ancestor worshiping is like one of the major festivals among the Chinese, during which you would see Chinese drivers congesting the main roads. The kiasu families would leave the house as early as 5:30am to beat the jam, and mine was just one of those.

Panoramic view

Grandpa's graveyard

Nothing particularly different this year, except the cemeteries actually looked cleaner. People from the maintenance agencies went from one graveyard to another to collect RM30, so that we don't have to do major gardening the next year we return. Last year we paid, but ended up still have to clean-up. Honestly, I really couldn't tell whether the graveyards were being cleaned-up, or it was just my family that is as anal as I can be.

Belongs to my grandma

My youngest uncle, whom I've never met before

It's actually quite a fun exercise, considering we only do it once a year. Imagine being able to do some gardening, put up flowers, offer some food to your ancestors, sit down and catch-up with your relatives, look around at other families and see if there's any hot stuff hot enough to lose their shirts, while munching off the chicken drumstick your ancestors may have licked on... like a wonderful picnic. Not to mention, it's the only time when you can do open burning and litter wherever you want, without getting caught. The only thing I hate about it is to do all these things under hot burning sun and the jungle trekking part. Seriously, hate it.

Check out the sun!

Spotted a unique ant nest

Sometimes, I wonder if all these are real. Do our ancestors receive the things we courier to them via fire-transfer? What about the paper-clothes we burn, would there be a hole on the shirt if it isn't completely burnt? What about the money? Is it OK to burn those money or burn a bank draft instead seeing that in real life we can't send money via post? What about that food we offer? Do our ancestor really raise out from the grave and sit besides us sniffing the half chicken we are having? If that's their home, where is hell and heaven? What do they do there when it's not Cheng Beng? Does my grandpa talk to the one buried next to him? Anyways, who came up with all these stupid questions?

My great grandpa at one of the oldest cemeteries

It's Small world Don't be surprised if you happen to bump into your friends (who are still breathing and alive) at the cemetery. A few years ago, as my sister and I were lazying around while others worked to death just like the usual case, my sister said, "Na paet (pondan) on a race..." As I turned around, it was my friend and indeed she was running with a sissy boy. I kept quiet, but she continued, "Na paet lost already looooo..." Indeed, she was way behind the sissy boy. This year, I managed to capture photos of the track where she used to run. It was an abandoned area then, but now it looks like someone's going to turn it into something else. Well, no luck in bumping into her this year, coz she's definitely coordinating to avoid being caught again... Sigh... what was Cyrus doing, I wonder. And I shall dedicate this blog to her. :)

Pondan marathon happened here...