Chinese Pot Session

The following morning, my family and I visited Mr. Lim's house, bringing along some fruits as an offering to their deity. During their previous visit, they had mentioned that despite our different religions, we all serve the same God. Apparently, God has a penchant for costume changes.

We entered a room where an altar stood. At the center of the altar was a statue of a white, bald figure dressed in robes. In front of it sat a vase or pot where lit incense sticks were placed. There were six kneeling pads on the floor. Mr. Lim entered the room accompanied by three women dressed in attire reminiscent of Jet Li in "Once Upon a Time in China." And so, the ceremony began.

First, they presented the fruits. Mr. Lim and the three women performed a sequence of intricate movements—bowing, kneeling, placing the offerings on the altar, and lighting three incense sticks. They chanted in Mandarin as they carried out these actions, creating an eerie atmosphere. I couldn't understand their words. What if they tied us up and performed a sacrifice?

I noticed some children entering the room. The girls positioned themselves on the left side, while the boys, including myself, gathered near the door. It appeared that boys and girls were meant to be separated during such ceremonies.

After the offering, one of the women, Ms. Mai, began giving instructions to the children. Her voice sounded peculiar as if she were speaking while pinching her nose (you'd find it amusing if you heard it yourself, but it loses its essence in writing). She spoke in Tagalog, but I had no clue what she was saying. I did catch a number, though: 3000. What on earth... 3000?

Mr. Lim motioned for me to stand in front of the altar, next to one of the kneeling pads. The other boys followed suit. It seemed that we, the males, would be performing the ritual first. My family stood at the back of the room (all females, obviously). Mr. Lim proceeded to light around fifty incense sticks bundled together and placed them in the pot. I wasn't sure if it would help Grandma, but I was certain it wouldn't do any good for the issue of global warming. And goodness, the room was becoming rather hazy (cue: "Smoke on the Water"... da-da-da da-da-da-da da-da-da da-da-da).

Mr. Lim instructed me to mimic his actions (except for the Mandarin chant, of course). We bowed, kneeled, and bowed while kneeling. Then we performed a slow tapping motion on the kneeling pad, our hands stacked on top of each other, as though giving CPR. We then stood up, bowed, kneeled, bowed while kneeling, and repeated the tapping motion. I wondered how many times we would have to do this. Oh no, was this what they meant by 3000? Were we going to perform these actions 3000 times?!

Suddenly, the momentum shifted. The slow tapping transformed into a rapid, continuous motion. What started as CPR now resembled a Swedish massage for the kneeling pad.

I couldn't tell how long we had been performing these actions. By the time we finished, my arms and legs had gone numb. It turned out that the 3000 they had mentioned referred to the number of taps we had made on the kneeling pads. Ms. Mai explained that they usually perform only 1000 taps, but given the circumstances, we had done 3000. How fascinating. I couldn't help but wonder how these taps would cure Grandma Mely.

Once we completed our part, it was the girls' turn. While I didn't find it humorous when I was participating, it struck me as quite funny now.

 After the ceremony, we enjoyed some breakfast and tea, and, of course, had a small photo session. No close-ups, though. I didn't want to see how red my eyes had become from all that funky smoke.