Céline Tcheng is an avid explorer of human connections. Her diverse journey across Europe and Asia through yoga, meditation, facilitation, and literature has honed her understanding of meaningful relationships, be it with the self, others or the world. With this multifaceted wisdom, she sets forth on a literary voyage to articulate the essence of connection in a world teeming with untold stories.

You can follow her on Instagram @celine.tcheng or Twitter @celine_writes.

baguette & butter

Meilan

‘Ahma’ to her descendants

eighty-two and counting according to the Christian calendar

eighty-three and counting according to her and the Chinese calendar

the counting messed up her eightieth birthday celebrations

with her descendants throwing a surprise party only a year later

she’d never forgive them for having missed such a milestone

she was a Monkey for Heaven’s sake, which comes after the Snake, the Horse and the Goat, in that order

one animal per year, every 12 years, a bit of Math and poof you can’t get things wrong, hence the convenience of the Chinese Zodiac signs

how westernised they had all become, can’t even get basic things right

they thought like the angmo, ate like the angmo, slept like the angmo

had she known at the time how’d they turn out

she might have stayed in Asia after all, instead of migrating to France

a country to which she would be forever indebted

a country with a wifeless President, who has had four children with a former partner (Ségolène)

who is now cheating on his current partner (Valérie) by taking an actress (Julie) out on a scooter ride at night

*sigh* the French are decidedly such romanticpeoples

***

Meilan

faithful to her morning routine

executed the same single tai-chi move two-hundred and fifty times in the middle of her living room

proceeded with a tasteless breakfast made up of a semi-avocado, olive oil, a few cucumber slices, cherry tomatoes and a yogurt

she was tempted to add a bit of sugar, just an itty tiny bit

but her daughters had cleared her kitchen of all temptations, having made her swear to take her diet seriously ever since her hospitalisation the year before

adding blandness to her otherwise boring days

thank God she had a granddaughter who knew a bit about life, sweet Cécile would gift her sugar-free chocolates

too bad she only came twice a year

speaking of which

Meilan glanced at her daily calendar that was attached to the wall

it said ’12月24日’ in bright red on a white page

had she teared the date sheet that day already?

she opened her window, shuddering as the cold weather hit her face when she peaked her head out, twisting to the left side to glance at the street

not a living soul could be seen nor sensed, not even pigeons nor the roaming of the boulangerie, only some dark leaves were swirling on the sidewalk

it was indeed December 25th

which meant that Meilan had to get moving

oh God, everybody would arrive anytime soon

her daughters had told her she’d better dress up this time

a special guest was coming

***

the crispy smell of turkey, roasted potatoes and grilled chestnut reached Meilan’s nostrils

Wenyuan, that daughter of hers who had always been so agile with her hands, could have been a successful

chef, but instead ended up as a satisfied housewife

Meilan wondered, thinking of her Communist past

when she had been a strong advocate for women’s rights,

whether she was being punished for a bad deed

in a previous life or

whether history was simply

repeating itself

***

Oops,

pardon, sorry Ahma,

said her grandson David

almost spilling his can of Coke on her dress as he made his way to the living room where all his cousins were laughing and chitchatting, en Français naturally

Meilan almost tried to hold him back to say

宝贝 darling, drop that, you’ve put on weight, and

what happened to your hair

which had somehow become curly but

would he understand her

not that she blamed him

she blamed

her daughters

although

admittedly Meilan had insisted on the importance of

being integrated

at least in the beginning when they’d arrived in France

but isn’t this

too much?

besides their Asian faces, it seemed like not

an ounce of

Asian heritage ran through their blood

so her daughters always tried to make up for it

by showing off David’s grades

Lili’s dance performance

Sylvia’s piano contest prize

Meilan could see through their game

yet Meilan carefully kept a copy of the transcripts of each of her grandkids

and when her eldest grand-daughter Cécile got into Ecole Polytechnique – France’s top engineering school – she boasted about it to her friends for more than a year

***

ah, Cécile

she was now engaged!

how time flies, dear (late) husband

your favourite grandchild has finally found a life partner

that being said, why oh why was Meilan always –always –the last one to hear about such things

nobody had told her Cécile was dating someone, not since

well…

thank God she broke up with that angmo jerk of an ex!

Cécile had always been the smart one, the reasonable one, the responsible one

but

like everybody else she had a problem

hers was

poor taste in men

it could have been much much worse, Meilan’s friends say

better an angmo than a daluren!

those mainland Chinese are so spoilt ever since communism & the one-child policy

they are cunning

selfish

uncivilised

Meilan had been hoping she’d find someone in their Asian community in France

or maybe a Singaporean

or a Taiwanese

was that so hard?

anyway it was too late now

Meilan was about to meet her grand-daughter’s fiancé

***

The fiancé

had jeans with a white shirt underneath a sea blue wool sweater that matched his aquamarine eyes

was sitting on the living room couch, squeezed between David and Sylvia

a plate full of turkey and potatoes threatening to spill on his lap

six-year-old Lili who was sitting on the floor beside the wooden coffee table kept bugging him

did he have siblings, what was his favourite game, was his hair naturally red

Meilan had obviously done her homework

she already knew

what was his background, where he studied, where worked

how much he earned

and on those points he ticked all the

right boxes

at least according to her daughter Wenyuan

who unfortunately could not be completely trusted with these things

she always thought the best of people

that was her problem

***

The fiancé

他, he –he’s  not very talkative is he, Meilan said to her daughters while dipping sliced turkey pieces with her chopsticks into chili sauce

what do you expect Mother, we’re a big family it’s kind of intimidating

but it’s no good for Cécile to have a quiet husband, she’s already such an introvert herself, what are they going to do, stare at each other at home all day?

Ma! what’s the point of saying this now, we don’t know how they are like in a private setting, and besides what if they like quiet

***

Six-year-old Lili

was the first one under (to her dismay, plastic) Christmas tree when the time for gifts came

Meilan knew it was

useless junk that would end up in attic or in the trash within the year

somehow it made everybody incredibly gleeful

the sound of the tears of colourful glittery paper that covered the parquet

the sound of consumerism

Meilan sometimes wondered whether this world was better than the one she had left, a world full of ogres

before she straightened her thoughts

of course it was, nothing was worse than the communist party

who was she kidding

***

Ahma

什么事 oh my you scared me, what is it darling

Cécile stood by Meilan

the fiancé had a present for her

oh no no no, this is completely unnecessary, Christmas meant nothing to Meilan, she was celebrating it because they were celebrating

不行, no no no, I can’t accept

don’t be like this, Ma, said Wenyuan

maman, quel est le problème ? is there an issue? asked Cécile

ne t’en fais pas ma chérie, said Wenyuan, Ahma is just not used to getting presents you know

(turning to Meilan:) 妈 Ma, please

fine

***

Meilan unwrapped the package

Cécile, via her mother Wenyuan, explained that it was butter

not your average butter

but beurre salé from the fiancé’s hometown, in Bretagne

handmade with love

多谢, thank you, you really shouldn’t have; but why didn’t you give this before we started eating? in that way everyone could have had a taste.

MOTHER. please.                          

fine. thank you.

***

Meilan

the next day

faithful to her morning routine

executed the same single tai-chi move two-hundred and fifty times in the middle of her living room

proceeded with a tasteless breakfast made up of a semi-avocado, olive oil, a few cucumber slices, cherry tomatoes and a yogurt

Cécile didn’t bring any chocolates the day before

all this because of this fiancé of hers

she forgot her Ahma

what a shame

but

Meilan had a new item in her fridge now

which was not chocolate but

still

it was some change

***

at noon sharp

Meilan walked to the

boulangerie

not the one around the corner

but the one two blocks away, obviously, whoever had even an ounce of good taste would go there

braving the cold was well worth it

the half baguette she got into her hands was warm

soft on the inside

crunchy on the outside

just the way she liked it

back home Meilan

delicately spread some butter on a piece of baguette

slowly

she took a bite

…

hmmm the beurre salé was

melting inside her mouth

hmmm that twinge of salt

contrasted with the softness of the butter

hmmm her teeth sank into the creaminess of the butter before

biting into the

crunchiness of the baguette

Meilan would have to pass her thank you to Cécile and the fiancé

she proceeded to eating the salad and the soup first

to reserve the best part of her meal

baguette and butter                       

for the very end of her lunch.

***Many thanks to Bernadine Evaristo for giving me the inspiration to write this short story (in the style of her book Girl, woman, other)**