Hungry Ghosts

Oh boy.... the chinese 7th month has just arrived.

Was on the late shift last night, hopped off my bus around 11.40PM only to find small piles of ashes left on the pavement. Joss sticks slowly burning to their end. Offerings made to the spirits that careen around our world when the gates of hell open during this special time. The air was thick with the sweet, cloying scent of incense.

Superstition? Possibly. Do I scoff? Definitely not.

The Hogans are supposed to be Roman Catholic (which might be even worse. haha) but growing up, we weren't really exposed to the more.... colourful.... traditions which abound in Asia.

But this one is interesting.
Apparently, once a year, the gates of hell are swung open and all the spirits therein are free to roam the earth amongst the living. Just for this period. They can visit loved ones.... Or they can just vent. And too many weird things have happened for me not to be respectful.

So I walk carefully around the burnt piles of offerings. If I have to tread on ashes, I apologise to the ashes. (You have to be here to appreciate that statement. lol.) And I heave a sigh of relief when the "visiting period" is over.


Remind me to tell you about the toe pinching I endure from time to time. Heh.


UPDATE @ 1.52am
Am on the overnight shift - wasn't sure if we should be expecting anything in the office. After all, people have seen, but mostly heard, the other-worldly beings that share our space. Myself included.

And yes, something just announced it's presence.
From somewhere to my left there came a tinkling sound. Very much like a teaspoon, or large pin, rattling/falling down into a ceramic mug. I asked my colleague if he'd heard something and Yes, Fiona, from your direction? Thought it was you?. Took a walk around that particular cluster of seats. Nary a pin out of place.

If it happens again, I think I'm just going to ignore'em!