Ghosts among us
Today, the people of Hsinchu were out in force commemorating ghost month, when ancestors’ spirits return. Outside nearly every home we passed, families gathered, burning incense on tables covered with bottles of tea and juice, boxes of crackers and cookies, plates of mangoes, oranges and apples, whole chickens and other treats to keep dead relatives well-fed. They also fed folded bits of hell money, another thoughtful offering to the deceased, into outdoor chimneys.
Many people here observe an interesting blend of Buddhist, Taoist and Confucian traditions. Aaron and I stopped off in a neighborhood temple, its simple architecture missing colorful Tao deities. The place—all clean lines, lotus flower designs, and tiny fish swimming under glass-topped tables—was strictly Buddhist, an employee there explained as she invited us to take tea.
