Author Archives: Jasmine Kwok

Birthday Miyeok-Guk Soup

Text:

Eating miyeok-guk (seaweed soup) every birthday morning to honor your mother.

Context:

After giving birth, Korean women traditionally eat a lot of seaweed soup because of its nutritional value. Based off of that, people eat this soup to honor their mothers for giving birth. JK mentioned that she does this every year and that this is a tradition that she shares with the wider Korean community: “It does feel like a way to not only honor my mother, but also honor my Korean culture because it’s not just something my family does.” Even though it was her first year in college, she was still able to have some miyeok-guk this year, since her Spring Break aligned with her birthday! This soup reminds JK of home and family–it’s a food of comfort alongside healing.

Analysis:

It is intriguing to see the various ways in which different cultures celebrate birthdays. In America, birthdays are very centered around the child: we are celebrating them turning a year older and reflecting on their past accomplishments as promises for a bright, successful future. Illustrative of our forward-driven society, we underscore this emergence into a new phase of life, which requires that we place full attention and focus on the person who’s aging. However, in past-oriented cultures, birthdays acknowledge the mother as the sole reason for the existence of a birthday. By drinking miyeok-guk, children are cherishing their mothers and recognizing the sacrifice and dedication that goes into motherhood. Thus, people are appreciating the past–the period of time before they were born, when their mother was carrying them.

After some research, I found that this tradition was most likely inspired by people noticing whales eating seaweed after giving birth. In this era of “posthumanism,” where we are understanding that humans are not the only ones with culture, it is fascinating to see how much of our practices are inspired by animals and the ways of nature. We share cultures across species and this “wealth of consciousness” can inform so many of our folk beliefs. Knowledge is very dynamic, and aspects of human tradition appear to be validated by animal customs, as we hold certain beliefs to be universal and beyond humanity.

Bathing with Pomelo Leaf Water

Text:

The night before Chinese New Year, you bathe with pomelo leaf water.

KF: My mom makes this concoction of sorts–it’s like pomelo leaf water and I basically have to pour it onto myself from head to toe to cleanse myself, and it’s supposed to be to wash away any bad luck that I have and wash away any dirt and stuff, and bring new fortune for the good year. I do this every year.

Context:

KF performs this ritual the night before Chinese New Year. Bathing rituals are prominent in Chinese culture. This act of cleansing is supposed to ward off bad luck and provide one with a fresh start into the new year.

Analysis:

When we’re in a space that is rich with magic and superstition, it’s difficult to separate the mind and body. Bath rituals connect the two–by physically washing yourself, you’re also cleansing the spirit. This idea of an “embodied mind” reveals just how powerful belief is; the mind and body work together to provide the ritual its effect. The new year is a liminal time–a chance to make magic happen. The preparation for the new year, however, blocks out a period before the actual time in order to get ready to enter a new phase with a clear consciousness. For many people, this is the moment to start off on a fresh slate–past mistakes and mishaps can be washed away, and we can begin anew. There is this reference to cyclical time; we start the new year, navigate life, do things we may regret, and then cleanse ourselves of them before starting all over again.

These celebrations often present an opportunity to reconnect with our culture and engage in traditions that bring our family together. From personal experience, I sometimes feel detached from my cultural background, but during events like Chinese New Year, I find it very meaningful to participate in the customs and the magic of welcoming a new beginning. Rituals enable people to rekindle communal ties across language barriers and age differences–they signify something greater than the individual, thus encouraging everyone to take part in ensuring they’re performed correctly.

Running Over Lemons

Text:

Driving over lemons with a newly purchased vehicle.

SB: We place a lemon under every tire of a vehicle we just bought, and then we drive it over so we crush all of the lemons, so it’s as if all the lemons are taking the brunt of the bad luck that the new vehicle might be running into in the future. It’s a preventive measure type of thing…because all the lemons have taken the bad luck, you’re not supposed to step onto a crushed lemon you see on the street because all that bad luck could transfer to you.

Context:

SB is uncertain about the tradition’s origins or what the exact context is. However, she mentions that in in Hinduism, “when you visit a temple, sometimes you break open a coconut, and I’m assuming it has some similar things in terms of destroying these fruits.” She connects breaking these fruits as physical acts of removing bad luck, and she iterates that her family does this whenever they get a new vehicle.

Analysis:

In situations where we feel like we don’t have control, we often try to assert authority through superstitious beliefs. While they may not be scientifically accepted, they can be held true by a community and naturally embed itself into familial tradition. Specifically, when we buy a new vehicle, there’s a lot we may not know: the ins and outs of how the car drives, what it’s like to drive the car amidst a bustling highway, and other factors that could influence our sense of security. When we drive, our lives are in the hands of everyone else on the road. These acts to ensure safe driving can remove the stress from a very anxiety-inducing activity for some people.

There are many driving rituals that exist to prevent bad luck or appreciate good luck, such as holding your breath when passing a graveyard or hitting the dashboard when narrowly escaping a yellow light. Despite laws and policies that attempt to keep our roads safe, institutions can’t really dictate belief. So much of this unofficial knowledge and these individual and communal rituals blossom from a desire to claim more direct control and exercise our personal beliefs. There is no law that tells us how to magically bring upon good luck, and there is no science supporting some of these rituals, but we believe in them anyway and engage in these practices to add an extra layer of security.

Why the Great Wall was Built

Text:

CF: A long time ago, there was an emperor and an empress. The empress was so beautiful that one time, the emperor–he was just fed up. He didn’t want anyone to look at her–look at his wife, who is so gorgeous. He’s like ‘I am done. I want to keep her just for myself and I’m going to build this great wall–I’m going to build the longest wall, the highest wall so nobody can look at my empress. So that’s what he did! And that’s how the Great Wall was built.

AJ: Oh, I remember!

CF: You remember that? Yeah the Great Wall–it shields her from the outside world and he will just keep the empress to himself-

AJ: I want to tell one… one story.

CF: “Okay–but do you remember that story I told you? That’s the reason why it’s built!”

Context:

I was eating at Glory Days with my mother (CF) and five-year old cousin (AJ). My cousin always loves to hear a good story, so my mother always has one prepared to tell. She keeps the stories short and concise, to make sure she holds my cousin’s attention the entire time. My mother mentioned that her mother told these stories to her at great lengths in Cantonese. This was just one of the many tales her mother had up her sleeve from her plethora of experiences, which feel so distant when examining the past through these stories. Even though my mother says she can’t tell stories “like Oma (grandma) can,” she tries to remember them to connect her back to her childhood. Her memory of the full story is fragmented, and she changes the length depending on who she tells it to. More often than not, however, she’s used to being an audience member.

Analysis:

The passing down of a narrative contributes to a strong familial and cultural identity, as they are not only shared among people of the same culture, but they also have an ability to kindle intergenerational connections. My mother said that if there was anyone to collect tales and legends from, it would be my grandmother, as her wisdom and experience exceed anything my mother can tell right now. There seems to be a consistent relationship between the storyteller and the audience; the performers tend to be older and share these stories with younger generations to nourish their relationship to their cultural community. However, as my grandmother gets older, there appears to be a natural transition between who tells the story and who listens. Now, my mother has assumed the role of a performer and tells the story to my cousin and I. Oral performances grant flexibility in determining length and content–when we’re completely alone, my mother tends to flesh out the story and add her own humorous tidbits that only we understand together.

These tales on the speculative history of China pique curiosity and intrigue in the origins and meanings behind structures that hold a sacred value. There are countless tales and legends surrounding the Great Wall–it’s one of the Eight Wonders of the world, and its mystical aura lingers because of the stories that still circulate. Additionally, this ensures that the younger generations continue to appreciate and show interest in their cultural roots. After my grandparents immigrated to the US, it often felt like my family could be detached from Chinese customs and practices. However, the stories our ancestors carry can be everlasting; as long as we continue keeping them alive, these tales can constantly link us back to our cultural identity.

A Message from Slenderman

Text:

ID: One summer, I was with my friend in Idaho, so there were a lot of trees and forests. We were very young and we didn’t have cars, so we decided to leave my family for dinner and walk home alone. What we didn’t know that it gets really dark really fast. So we were walking on this path in this forest–it was by a street, but it got completely dark. There were no street lamps, just thin trees surrounding us. There were trees with eyeballs. But I take this path every day, like I’m very familiar with it. I know every turn, so I was like “okay.” We were a little afraid, and we started hearing things, imagining things, but we both genuinely swear, we heard something, both looked to our left and saw something in the trees because- I don’t know, we both saw it though. It looked like Slenderman–it was tall– but there were a lot of trees, so we don’t know. We just ran for 10 minutes sprinting home. We got home, we were terrified but were like “Okay, it was just in our heads, blah blah blah.” The next day, we go back in the morning–it’s bright out, the same path, just lalalala back to town, do our little thing. We look at this tree for some reason–we see my NAME–I see this tree every day, mind you, and I’ve never seen this before. It has my name carved into it with a face too– a smiley face with two X’s and I have proof- I swear on my life; it was from a butter knife on the tree, and it’s still there to this day. I’ve never seen that before. It literally said [informant’s name]. I’m very familiar with the place, but I’ve never seen anything like this.

Context:

This encounter happened while the informant was in 8th grade, right when everyone heard the story about those “two young girls who tried to murder their friend.” There was a lot of content about Slenderman circulating around online, and it appeared that everyone “was into watching things that freaked them out.” The informant and her friend also “went down the rabbit hole” to learn all about Slenderman and were absolutely intrigued by all the horrific, awful things they heard online. When this encounter occurred the summer after the hype around Slenderman, it became a story that the informant would tell whenever she got the chance.

Analysis:

Slenderman being a product of the digital age is a prime example of the Internet’s influence on young consumers. In a sense, there is a false form of protection when interacting with legends on the Internet–perhaps young users feel more daring to delve deeper into a horror story when they’re distanced from images of violence and gore. Especially with newer technologies being able to manipulate pictures and videos, when we see visual “evidence” online, it only adds to the legend–it could or could not be true. However, when online legends translate to real life, they suddenly appear much more plausible. Whether someone pranked them by engraving the informant’s name in a tree or Slenderman was actually watching over them, potentially witnessing a legend in real life strengthens individual and communal belief.

This story is a memorate: since the two friends insisted they saw a strange vision the night before coming across the name on the tree, ID translated her personal experience into an existing legendary structure in order to explain this seemingly inexplicable encounter. When ID was telling this story to our mini group, our mouths dropped when she told us about her name inscribed in the trunk–we could hardly believe our ears. Even in a setting where we were purposely telling speculative narratives, that detail appeared to provide tangible “evidence” for the sighting. Not only did she potentially see Slenderman, but the legend personally interacted with her and directly addressed her. Experiences like that could put subjects in a limbo between going out on a “quest” to reconfirm the legend or distancing themselves from it for their own safety.