Rediscovering the heart of Qing Ming tradition It is important to educate the young about purpose of practices to honour ancestors
FOLDING gold and silver foil paper ingots was an annual exercise that my brother and I were tasked to do before Qing Ming.
Both of us would compete to see who could fold more ingots.
My late grandmother would remind us that folding these ingots was not about the quantity or quality, but our sincerity in carrying out the process.
Traditionally, people believed that these ingots, resembling money in the afterlife, would bear different values depending on their shapes.
Those that were perfectly folded would bear more value, in contrast to imperfect ones with pointed edges or which looked like cups.
These memories come flooding back as Qing Ming approaches this year.
Although it falls on April 4, it is observed two weeks before and after that date.
Qing Ming is a day for Taoists and Buddhists to honour their departed family members and ancestors.
Back then, my family and I would visit the columbarium and pay our respects to my grandparents and great-grandparents.
We would always bring their favourite food, such as kopi O kosong for my late grandfather as well as fruits and roasted meat for our ancestors.
We would burn the gold and silver ingots, alongside boxes of other paraphernalia such as clothes, shoes and “hell banknotes”.
After praying, my mother would “update” them on our lives and whether I had been a naughty boy or not.
That was about two decades ago, when I still observed Qing Ming.
Paper smartphones, computers and credit cards were not available or too expensive back then, but now you can even burn a range of paper luxury cars and bungalows.
I always find that aspect fascinating and look forward to seeing what creative items will be churned out each year by enterprising traders selling prayer paraphernalia.
I gradually stopped this annual pilgrimage due to the hassle and inconvenience.
Other than the crowds at columbaria and cemeteries, one would also have to contend with the sweltering heat and smoke from the burning of joss sticks and other items.
Excuses, some might say, but I have stopped observing the tradition.
Yet deep down, I am curious about the origins of these rituals and their significance.
Customary practices can sometimes change due to circumstances and modernity.
One may even wonder to what extent these rituals were practised by our ancestors.
To find out, I spoke to cemetery management committee members and historians about Qing Ming rituals.
While the main rituals do not differ much, offerings such as food can be unique to respective clan associations.
Each clan association prepares its own specialty foods for offerings on the altar, such as the Cantonese fatt gou (prosperity cake) Hakka hee pan (rice cake), Hainan yi bua (glutinous rice cake) and Teochew ang ku kueh (sticky cake).
I also learnt that most of the paper paraphernalia items that I looked forward to, are commercialised.
Historian Lee Eng Kew noted that gold and silver foil papers burned as offerings to ancestors were the only items that symbolised money.
“Hell banknotes and credit card paper paraphernalia are purely commercial,” he said.
Nowadays, families practise and conduct rituals within their means.
Attempts are being made to reduce wastage, such as bringing home edible offerings and minimising the burning of ceremonial items.
Though simplified, these rituals still have meaning if done sincerely.
While it is important to uphold tradition, we must also at the same time educate the younger generation on the significance of these rituals.
If they do not know the reasons for them, it may be difficult to ensure these traditions continue to be practised for years to come.