Zhong Qiu Jie

Despite doing my best to avoid them, I was given mooncakes to try today everywhere I turned. One of the women at church who owns a bakery had one for me, as well as other church friends we met up with later in the day. I really couldn't wait, though, to tear into our box of Starbucks mooncakes that I gave to Randy in the hopes that he would share them with me. He did.




I knew our limits though, I think we could only handle two among the three of us. So tonight it was mocha-cheese and green tea-grapefruit.



We saw the moon briefly tonight, before it clouded over, and we ate our mooncakes and thought of everyone we love in the US (and Germany, too, Rubberboots Girl) that we miss so much it hurts.

In some Chinese cultures, like Taiwan, this is also called Lantern Festival. Our garden was decorated in red laterns everywhere. Even where it isn't called Lantern Festival, lanterns are still essential.


This evening when we left the home of some friends, I noticed several tables sitting on the sidewalk, completely set for a Zhong Qiu Jie party, but left alone. My friend explained to me that these are for their dead relatives. As our cab wound through the streets of her working-class Chinese neighborhood, I saw them all everywhere. Fruit, mooncakes, and baijiu, and, of course, candles.