Today, Dragon Boat Festival's surviving traditions involve eating zongzi (rice balls stuffed with various fillings and then covered in bamboo leaves), watching dragon boat races on the river, and displaying and/or wearing a variety of amulets meant to bring good luck.
Since the holiday still rests largely on superstition and mythology, I try to extract what doesn't contradict my beliefs and emphasize that through practice. I have to admit, though, that it's not always easy to separate certain threads of culture. This year, I decided to bypass most of the festivities and, instead, spend some time with good friends that we don't see as often. Being a family of four and on scholarship money from their home country of Kenya, they moved farther away from campus to save money on rent. Their two children are some of the sweetest I have ever met, and I love to see their little faces in my doorway.
The last time we shared a meal together, they hosted us and cooked a marvelous African meal. We wanted to return the favor, so we invited them over for dinner on Wednesday. One of my former students showed up that afternoon after his holiday plans fell through due to rainstorms. He knows that he's always welcome at my place, so he called me that afternoon and said, “Can I come over and hang out? My friends and I aren't going shopping because it's raining.” I explained that I was getting dinner ready and could use some help. He confessed that he's not very skilled with cooking but that he'd love to assist and learn a thing or two. The deal was struck.
He came over and jumped right in with prep work. We fried chicken, whipped potatoes, sauteed giant green beans, baked muffins, and peeled/sliced fruit. I asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner, and he eagerly said yes. I was hoping so.
After a few hours, our guests showed up – those shiny brown 7-year old eyes peeking into my kitchen and eliciting a drawn-out “Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” from me as I bent down for a hug. Within a few minutes, we were all sitting at the table and bowing our heads. The wife confessed that she had brought along some soft food from home just in case there nothing palatable for the baby, but she was delighted to see that baby Esther went right for the mashed potatoes. By the end of the meal, she had potatoes outlining her little mouth.
Dinner with our friends was wonderful, but my favorite part was knowing that a national was able to see the unity among people from different backgrounds and geographies (Canada, US, Kenya) and – hopefully – connect that to a collective faith that we practice. My student stayed with us for the entire evening and proudly displayed the photos on his blog once he returned to his dorm. I think that, for him, it was a Dragon Boat Festival unlike any other.
In the end, memories like that always outshine the darkness of a mystic holiday.
