Chúc Mừng Năm Mới!

Midnight. The air is filled with the sound of church bells, the boom and sparkle of distant fireworks and a smell of incense heavier than I have ever known outside a temple, let alone out in the open air. Over beyond the lake, the upper half of the Cantavil building has suddenly been covered in twinkling red and green lights. And from the neighbouring balcony, Quy shouts ‘Happy New Year’ to me, as we hang over the railings to watch the people milling down in the street, setting light to fake money, mirroring as they do so the candles, incense sticks and offerings being burnt in neighbours’ courtyards.

Tet, the Vietnamese Lunar New Year, (2011, the year of the cat) has begun.

In the early evening I’d been for a walk around the neighbourhood, exploring a bit more. I was surprised by how many people there were still around, and how many shops and street market stalls were still open. As I walked in what I thought might be the direction of the swimming pool Steve and Louise go to, I found myself in a narrow street overflowing with scooters, people, chickens alive and dead, and huge assortments of vegetables spilling across the road. Saigon (or this bit of it at least) certainly wasn’t the Tet holiday ghost town that staffroom rumour had claimed it would be. I should know by now to take such claims with a pinch of salt. Most of them are spread by people who have never actually hung around long enough to find out what a place is like during a holiday season.

In fact I was roused from my torpor and encouraged to go out for a walk, by the sound of drumming getting nearer. Investigation (hanging over the balcony) revealed a small procession of young men dressed in red wheeling a cart with a tin drum on it, accompanying two figures in traditional costume (also red) who were dancing and skipping from house to house, banging on doors, waiting to be invited in. They were slowly gathering a crowd of excited children round them too. Despite spending a lot of today trawling the Internet for information, I can’t seem to find out who these characters are meant to be. Are they the Kitchen Gods returning? (Just before Tet the Kitchen God leaves the household and returns to heaven to report on the family to the Jade Emperor). Or are they something else? Are they delivering Lucky Money or demanding it? I remember seeing a similar figure during the Chinese New Year procession in London, but I can’t remember what he was called. Please let me know…

I did video this little procession but the file was too big and it would’ve taken until next Lunar New Year to upload. I will try to copy a still from it instead.

In the meantime, and stepping back a further twenty-four hours in time, you might care to cast your eyes upon some of the 89 (yes, I know, I overdid it again, but even that is down from the original 140 odd) photos I took while wandering around the city centre on Tuesday afternoon. Not only do we have lights equal to or even better than Christmas, but the city is a mass of flowers. One of my neighbours at the other end of the corridor has a big pot of chrysanths outside their door. There are flower festivals in several parks and squares, and in the park by Backpackerville there is a flower market, selling everything from bonsai to chrysanthemums and sunflowers. This has also meant the frequent sight of people riding past with fruit trees tied to the backs of their scooters.

Tet is seen as the official start of spring, with bamboos, kumquats and other trees sold on the side of the road by people up from the country who sleep out with their stock. These are decorated with red and gold decorations (a bit like Christmas Trees) and Lucky Money red envelopes, along with their own yellow blossoms, orange fruit and so on.

As a bit of a marketing gimmick last week, the school gave all students a pack of Lucky Money envelopes. The students affected humorous disappointment that they were just packs of envelopes, and did not, in fact, contain any Lucky Money!