Today is the Moon Festival. I don’t even remember when I last celebrated. I mean, real celebration. Sure, I have managed a few bites of moon cakes, but since I’ve never really enjoyed this part of the Moon Festival, it should not count. Being with my parents and sister. The last time this was even possible was 1994. Ten years ago. It’s been a long journey.
People say the Mid Autumn Festival (the literal translation of 中秋节, the Chinese name) to Chinese is what Thanksgiving to Americans. But from my memory, the Festival is always more associated with distant love than family reunions, right from the origin of the story. The image of 嫦娥 (Chang E) waving to the husband in the moon forever etched in my mind. Being physically apart, yet never closer in heart–it is type of romance we understand all too well. Not the chocolate, flower, fragrance type the westerners are more comfortable with.
When I drove back from Chicago last night, the full moon was hanging above in the sky, pouring the silver light all over the prairie. With me being one of the few cars traveling on the highway, cruising at 80 miles an hour, and Chinese pop music playing in my CD, I felt like I’m in another world. It is a strange feeling, but at the moment I enjoyed it. Being oneself and enjoying oneself in such a setting does not happen often, and I made sure I treasured the moment.
Happy Moon Festival, everyone!