That nibbling bug

It surfaces when you've been away for a while and yet isn't quite homesickness. The feeling, an undiscernable drip drip drip, eventually forms a mysterious mass of mysterious hankering. Barely ten years ago, I would have scoffed and clucked at the thought of anyone being so cheenah.

But Life boomerangs back ever so often and now I am trying to reconnect with my image of 'Chinese roots'. This is mostly funny because I am Singaporean first and have never been within a hair's breadth of China.

Nonetheless the first signs emerged during Chinese New Year 2 years ago. I returned to London from Singapore a month before, laden with fists full of hong baos. Stefan was coerced into the Make-the-Red-Lantern project. The final folded and stapled product bobbed about proudly in his dorm room window.

Meanwhile I had also volunteered for the Lunar New Year line up, an annual event, at Goodenough College. It was a great group of ladies - Teresa and Cindy were from Taiwan, Tomoko from Japan and Yu Fang from South Africa. Following 3 weeks of rehearsals, requests to the Taiwanese Consulate to borrow the costumes and plenty of laughter, the Lantern and Ribbon Dance was born. Heck, WE were all the authenticity that was needed!

I have since been married in a kua and 2 cheong sams (civil wedding and dinner Singapore), commenced research on Chinese foreign policy and enrolled in a Mandarin refresher course of my own volition. The thought resides somewhere in my head, that I must impart the language to my -currently imaginary- children.

The madding crowds kept me away from visits to Chinatown with my Mom in Singapore. Here, I intentionally jump into the fray, risking injury from boney old ladies in hairnets, Beijing Chinese uhr-uhr-uhr-ing at me and the startling blasts of firecrackers.