Every year around this time, I get very depressed. It has become a pattern for a few years, and the intensity only seems to grow. It’s the Chinese New Year, plus minus a few hours depending on where you are. Some prefer to call it the lunar new year or Asian new year, just to be fucking sensitive to the other cultures.
I am part of the blame for this depression – although I try to sneak in some festive Chinese elements like a red shirt, I plot to appear at work as “normally” as possible. Not gonna make a big deal out of it, just like how millions of other Chinese people will not take the day off or close their businesses to celebrate. Unless you’re “in the know”, you would not even realize that the most important holiday to 4 million people in America has just gone by. We kinda treat it like a big secret.
When I see the Japanese and Koreans put on traditional costumes for holidays and ceremonies, and when I see the Jewish observe their Sabbath ritual on a weekly basis, I often wonder, what the hell are we doing for our Chinese traditions? If anything should be embraced as the Big Deal, shouldn’t it be the new year for the 1.3 BILLION people on Earth? Unfortunately, it seems to be our cultural trait that we do not insist on sticking to our cultural traits. We adapt and evolve, just like the essence of Darwinist survival. We cook colorful General Tzo’s Chicken for stupid white people… heck, we make sushi and tacos, too! We’re proudly Chinese by blood, and we don’t need anything superficial to prove or reaffirm this identity. Or maybe we don’t even care? It’s hard to say.
So it goes back to the Chinese New Year, the most glorious and festive holiday that somehow people don’t take as seriously as Cinco de Mayo. I hate being reminded how pathetic we are toward our own selves. What the hell. One day, I’m going to change this.