India pt. 6: Chinese New Year
My Longing to Be Free
On the eve of Chinese New Year, my Bak Bak and Bak May had arranged for Bethany and I to go on a tour of Kolkata with other visiting families from Austria, Taiwan, the US, and Australia. I was grateful to have a private van shuttling us from one place to the next as we visited some of the city’s main spots: The Motherhouse of the Missionaries of Charity (where Mother Teresa carried out her work), the Pareshnath Jain Temple, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Victoria Memorial…
There was just one thing throughout the day that I couldn’t quite shake — my longing for freedom. Inside, I could feel the tension rising every time I was reminded that my movements were dictated by those of the group. To clarify, this had nothing to do with the lovely young couples and families that were on the tour with us; this had everything to do with my process of acculturation and feeling so strongly triggered by the idea of being limited to a certain box or path. There were moments on the tour where I’m sure my behaviour was seen as outlandish, maybe even worrisome or disrespectful: straggling behind to buy some chai from a local street vendor; Bethany and I disbanding from the group and using our free time to explore a very busy Park Street; conversing with two men (also tourists) outside the Indian Museum while we waited for our van (one was from Togo and they were both in business, in town celebrating a friend’s wedding).
At first, I reacted defensively. I was independent and had extensive experience traveling alone; I didn’t appreciate anyone telling me how careful I should be, or feeling like I was being monitored. But as this treatment continued throughout the day, I understood that this worrying came from a place of genuine concern. They cared for my safety. It was a great exercise trying to empathize with what the other person might be experiencing and this allowed me to ease up. I brought my guard down and enjoyed the rest of the tour as best as I could.
As I observed those around me within the group, I did recognize, however, the degree to which the interactions with Indian locals were fraught with fear. There seemed to be a lack of trust and a strong sense of separation between us and them. Somehow, I could recognize how my own family dealt with those they considered “outsiders” — the Hakka having been considered “guests” themselves over generations of migration, the barriers they put up in order for protection seemed to have become thicker and more impenetrable with time.
To the right, an image of several Hakka tulou structures in the province of Fujian, China. As described by UNESCO World Hertiage, these buildings housed an entire clan and were “built for defence purposes around a central open courtyard with only one entrance and windows to the outside only above the first floor”.
The onset of the New Year had gifted me with a deep and very personal revelation: that I longed to break free from the fear that haunted my ancestors from being the eternal “guest”, always the outsiders themselves, which in turn provoked a strong case of cultural tribalism and a profound need for togetherness. But the further I ventured from the group, the less accepted I would be by my own people. This was the dilemma with which I was faced.
The Year of the Rat: New Beginnings
The timing of my visit to India aligned well with the New Year; 2020 being the Year of the Rat, the first of the 12 animals in Chinese astrology, this year is meant to symbolize fresh starts and new beginnings. All along, the reason for my trip was to better understand where I come from, being severely disconnected from my family roots and in turn, experiencing much confusion and uncertainty around my identity as a first generation Hakka Chinese Canadian.
I had returned to my parents’ place of origin because I wanted to see firsthand why they had raised me the way they did and to make sense of the parts of me that were in conflict with each other. Celebrating Chinese New Year in Dhapa was like crossing a bridge — a bridge towards the compassion and understanding I needed in order to let go of all the heaviness I had been carrying that no longer had a place in my story. At the same time, it allowed me to cultivate a sense of pride in all those parts that do continue to resonate within me, making me stronger, more resilient, and empowered.
The days leading up to and following New Year’s Day were filled with an abundance of food, old stories, a sense of community, and nostalgia for the Hakka Chinese Indian traditions that once played a big part in my family’s life. How many New Years did my great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents celebrate here in Dhapa? Although today, the shrinking Hakka population and New Year festivities reflect only a small sampling of what they once were, I certainly feel that my experience has brought me just enough clarity to help illuminate the next stretch of my path.
Being back in Montreal, it’s taken over 6 months for me to process all the sensorial information I absorbed throughout the trip. I realize now that there are still so many questions about my family that remain unanswered and so many places that have yet to be uncovered, but for the time being, I’m grateful for each and every moment, whether spent alone, with my cousin Bethany, with other family members, or fellow Hakka community members.
From all of this, I can recognize how my Western upbringing has coloured my worldview. Yes, I value independence, diversity, self-expression, creativity, and find more and more ease in tolerating uncertainty — all contrary to what values and behaviours shape the culture of my Hakka family. But on the other hand, my ability to adapt, my belief in hard work, and the resilience that permeates every fibre in me in the face of difficulty — all of this, I attribute to my lineage. Although I may often be disregarded as the ugly duckling due to the distinct way that I think and act, I’m slowly coming to accept that this is perfectly okay. She does transform into a beautiful swan after all, doesn’t she?
Returning to India gave me the chance to shine a light on those parts of me that inextricably tie me to my family and my lineage; I can see now that regardless of how different I am, they are very much a part of me, even though along the way, I’ve chosen to carve out my own path.
Just as my ancestors did with an ever-changing landscape, working hard to adapt and survive, my current reality calls for integration and inclusion in order to succeed. My family has provided me with everything I need to now be in a position where I can aim to thrive and not just survive. And in this step forward, there’s simply no more room for fear. Out there, beyond the the divide, there’s a whole world that I want to be a part of, with so much to learn, so much to share, and to enjoy alongside others. This is me. An ever-adapting and evolving Hakka Chinese explorer and warrior.
