Money Goes Up in Smoke

It's Ghost Month in Taiwan.  Whenever someone mentions this their eyes twinkle as they watch for some reaction from us.  But we're not afraid.  We've been through Halloween so many times we aren't fazed.  Arriving at our new apartment however has felt a bit ghostlike.  It's a 14 story high-rise in a new part of town called "Six Families" 六家 in northern Hsinchu county 竹北.  There are definitely more than 6 families in our building but we don't see them much due to high security and busy work schedules.  I hope we have a chance to meet and get to know some of them during the year, otherwise the old nickname for foreigners, "white ghosts" 白鬼, might come true.

As it turns out, Ghost Month in Taiwan is a public celebration of neighborhoods just as Halloween is in American, and just like in the US, the ghosts are hungry!  The first Saturday after our arrival several tables were set up outside our apartment building to accommodate the food being served to the ghosts.  Many residents of our building were outside the front entrance setting up elaborate displays for the festival just as we were returning from a day out shopping for household items.

The table is set with favorite foods for the ancestral "ghosts" to enjoy.

The food served to ghosts includes a wide variety of items from cookies to pickles, instant noodles, Coke, fresh fruit and beer.  Ghosts apparently thrive on a balanced diet of junk.  The tables were piled high and topped with colorful flags and incense sticks.  Around the edge of the table were stacks of paper money printed with golden symbols of wealth and prosperity.  Our neighbors were busy arranging the items in a bountiful display and as I watched, my stomach started to grumble.  Then I noticed smoke starting to rise from the street curb.

Sending money to ancestors during Ghost Month.

People with stacks of yellow paper were carefully unwrapping the packages, separating the sheets and tossing them into a burning barrel.  The maintenance and security staff kept a close watch on the flames and the smoke carried the money to the ghosts above.  One sheet caught the rising air above the barrel before touching the flames and fluttered upward toward the towers around us then gently drifted down to the earth again where it lay unnoticed until cleanup time.  The neighborhood was buzzing with people and it offered a great opportunity for us to introduce ourselves to many folks who live nearby.  Our neighbors are mostly young families starting out their lives with a few grandparents around for childcare.  So as it turns out, we're not the only new kids on the block.

Thanks to the ghosts, we are now real people in our neighborhood.  As we rode the elevator up to the second floor a young guy got out with us and turned to the door across the hall.  We introduced ourselves and he replied, "My name is Bruce Lin, not exactly like the famous kung fu actor."  I chuckled and smiled.  If the ghost of kung fu films, 李小龍, is lingering around here somewhere, perhaps we should leave out something for him to eat.