I cleaned my apartment, inserted red and gold objects around the living room, and rubbed the belly of my Buddha figurine in anticipation for Tết – The Lunar New Year! Not just the simple, nice placement of objects and folding of laundry. Oh no, the kind of cleaning where the kitchen floor shines, and the closet is color coordinated. Hopefully with the cleaning and lucky trinkets rid this past year’s bad luck, if not, it’ll be a nice welcoming when I get back to Washington D.C. from the 36th Annual Tết Festival, hosted by the Union of Vietnamese Student Associations of Southern California. My fortune reading states this is a year full of wealth and good fortune! These things never answers] the details of how, what, when, and where - the fortune gods are far too busy for that.
Tết is still one of my favorite holidays to celebrate. A few years ago, I wrote about an experience I had back when I visited Vietnam for the first time as an 8 year old. The story takes place during the last leg of the trip and for those who are curious can be found by clicking here. Another story that comes to mind, also taking place the same Tết week, was when I went to the fish market for the first time. I, born in America, had never visited a fish market up until that point. Usually when I saw fish, they were dead or moving in a tank at the Asian grocery stores in the States, or in a loving meal prepared by the hands of my skilled mother. Hungry, young, lack of critical thinking abilities, I ate, thanked my mother, and went on about my day like most children. So when I arrived at the Village Fish market in Lai Vung, a district of Đồng Tháp Province in the Mekong Delta region of Vietnam, It. Was. Awesome. It’s not that I haven’t ever seen live fish, I had a school trip to the Zoo and aquarium before then, but there was glass separating myself and the creatures (for good reason may I add). However at the fish market, I got to see and touch fish up close (my mom made sure I washed my hands and doused them with hand sanitizer after every fish encounter). Fish were everywhere! I made my way through the maze of assorted sea creatures in awe and amazement.
Most Vietnamese families wake up at the crack of dawn to scour the best selection of goods offered by market vendors. However we started a little later in morning, so the market rush had died down, and only a few people haggling prices were around. After some self exploration, my mother finds me and shuffles over to another fish stall. She smiles down at me and asked, “Would you like the fish?” I answered zealously “YES!” She leads me to a cylinder container and tells me to pick one out. They were pretty Red Snapper fish (red is my favorite color and the color of luck in most Asian cultures). One stuck out to me and I enthusiastically pointed my finger, indicating my choice. As I was contemplating a name for what I thought was my new pet, before I even had a chance to tell my mother, the fisherman grabbed the fish by the tail, swung it to a cutting board, and slammed his sharp knife down – decapitating my newly chosen friend, Fred. I cried Instantly in the middle of the market. Tears flowing like rivers, with accompanying wails to compliment the scene. There was a good five seconds of shock, but then everyone at the fish stalls erupted into laughter, including my beautiful mother. She didn’t realized the concept of death was not quite grasped by my 6 year old mind, or that I’ve never seen how food was prepped. I’ve seen dead fish at markets back in the states, but witnessing animals die was still a complex idea at that point in my short life. She calmed me and bought me a little goldfish after the upsetting event, which quickly escaped my little head as I fixated my attention on my new pet. Later that night, my mother made canh chua cá, a dish native to the Mekong River Delta. I stuffed my face forgetting all about Fred.
Reflecting back on that time and the past in general, I’m very fortunate to have privileges growing up that others may not, and a mother who works hard in every aspect of her life to provide, and teach me about Vietnamese traditions. She giggles every time she tells that story, as I get a little less embarrassed hearing it. Tết is a wonderful time to have friends and Family around. In the spirit of the Lunar New Year, she’s accompany me on this trip to Tết Festival here in sunny SoCal. To everyone reading this, I’d like to wish you all: Chúc Mừng Năm Mới, Sức khỏe dồi dào, va An khang thịnh vượng (Happy New Lunar New Year, may you have great health, and for odds be ever in your favor)!
