The Chungyuan Festival (Ghost Festival) is behind us, and the words of late poet Tu Pan Fang-ko (杜潘芳格) from her poem Chungyuan Festival come to mind: “You like to lose yourself in the turbulence of the crowd, while I only understand that I am lonely. The Chungyuan sacrificial pig holds an apple in its big mouth, as if it were happy and willing to be there. If you did not give it that apple, then it was me.”
This awareness was also reflected in the new cultural movement during the Japanese Colonial era, but after the war, Taiwanese society has remained lost in a bad custom of burning large amounts of gold and silver paper money.
To grasp the extent of the volume, it is said that if all the silver ghost money burned during the Ghost Festival — as opposed to the gold ghost money that is burned to the gods — was piled up together, it would reach higher than several Taipei 101 skyscrapers. It is burned in the arcades in front of shops on city streets, in front of apartment buildings and even government offices, polluting the air.
However, look at the offerings: instant noodles, canned soft drinks, junk food, canned food. How crude this is compared with South Korea, another place where they like to make offerings. How can anyone with this mindset ever care whether a nation is true to itself, whether it is a normal, regular nation?
Could it be that Taiwanese have not noticed that in South Korean soap operas people clean themselves before a sacrifice, wear formal dresses and are cautious and respectful, or could it be that they have developed these rituals because they have lived through the trials of being ruled by a royal family?
Is it because Taiwanese have never experienced what it is like to have their own nation and because they have always had to toil on this island and praying to the gods has been the only way to gain protection?
Seeing people fight for the offerings after the ceremony is not very dignified. Are they starving, or are they completely poverty-stricken? Or is it just that they are greedy?
In South Korea, Christianity — including Catholicism — and Buddhism are both important. While it is often said that Taiwan is a Buddhist nation, a mixture of Buddhism and Taoism is more common. Taiwanese society is still focused on obtaining the gods’ blessings to achieve peace, promotion and wealth.
However, cultural formality and ceremonies have not been transformed into rituals. Even in the high-tech and fashion industry, the offerings simply highlight a coarse, haphazard attitude. They pollute the air, but they do so even without a drop of respect and sincerity toward the gods. If they necessarily have to pray, at least be serious about it and display some devotion.
Following urbanization and the construction of new buildings, offerings and praying should have gradually moved into the temples. However, all the offerings and religious activities are going on in front of modern buildings, and it is quite jarring to the eye. This is probably a cultural issue.
Tu Pan’s poetry carries the criticism of an intellectual artist: “The Chungyuan sacrificial pig holds an apple in its big mouth, as if it were happy and willing to be there. If you did not give it that apple, then it was me.”
This does not only happen during Ghost Month, but it is repeated on every first and 15th day of every month in the lunar calendar.
How long will this go on? How can Taiwanese build a progressive and developed nation with this kind of culture?
Lee Min-yung is a poet.
Translated by Perry Svensson
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