In a flash, a long and busy year has passed. Suddenly remembering a recent conversation with my mother, I kept hesitating before the question: “Will you and your wife come home this Tet?”, because I didn’t know how to answer so that my parents wouldn’t be upset. As if she might guess her child’s mood, my mother softly said: “It’s okay, child. It’s okay for us to celebrate Tet alone.” A few simple words but made my heart sad. Tet is coming once more in so many worries of grown-ups, bound by countless personal responsibilities. Suddenly I felt sorry for the beautiful Tet holidays during my childhood.
I was born and raised in a family with many difficulties. In the 80s, when the basic life of every rural house was still poor, Tet was everything eagerly awaited, the happiest of children throughout the year. My nostalgia for the old Tet days is the passionate scent from the pot of water my mother cooked for the whole family to bathe in. On the last followingnoons of the year, my mother often spends time picking herbs such as basil and locust, combined with some lemongrass and grapefruit leaves from the garden to cook water for the whole family to “purify” all the misfortunes in life. living.
Peach blossoms cluster together. Photo author provides
In the simple kitchen, my mother sat by the fire and cooked a pot of fragrant water. Wait for the water to boil, mother will mix it with cold water in a large basin, so that everyone can bathe easily. We children are always given priority to bathe first. Afraid that children would be afraid to bathe, my mother often tried to mix the bathwater skillfully so that it was neither too hot nor too cold, then quietly turned around and told me:
– Good girl, take a bath first. Bathing with herbal water will help you wash away not only the dirt but also the defects that were acquired in the old year, leaving you brand new and fragrant in the new year.
As always, as a child, I often lowered my face and inhaled the scent of herbs, suddenly vaguely feeling how much care and devotion I had for my children. Although, later in life, when I became an adult, I still regularly kept the habit of bathing with fragrant leaf water at the end of the year, but somehow I never felt the same tearful feeling as before.
In addition to the fragrant pot of herbal bath water, I also miss the fragrant, sticky taste of the small banh chung that my father packed from a bunch of leftover rice for the gluttonous children. Rice grains crystallized from the alluvium of the fields, combined with some green beans from the beds behind the house, and a few pieces of fatty meat as a filling, it’s as simple as packing the whole spring into a cake.
As usual, my family always has the habit of wrapping Banh Chung on the followingnoon of the 30th of Tet. It was a rare moment when the whole family gathered together, wrapping cakes and chatting loudly. And even late at night, my sister and I spread out thin mats, innocently waiting for the fire to boil bright red banh chung, as if lighting up so much hope in the middle of a winter night. It wasn’t until the children inhaled the delicious aroma mixed with the scent of sticky rice and dong leaves that they all cheered loudly for the adults to prepare to pick up the cake. Although, when seeing the bright eyes of children, parents still asked us to wait until the banh chung was taken out, soaked in cold water, then gently arranged on a wooden board and pressed with a stone mortar.
Ancient Tet fireworks. Photo author provides
Many years have passed, when I became an adult, I still cannot forget the image of us sisters sitting nodding, looking at the fire, even though our eyes were closed but still patiently waiting, until the moment came. Parents gave each child tiny banh chung as a gift. The beautiful memories remind me of reunion like that bright red fire, each family member can contribute a stick of love, then all gather together to create a feeling of love. warmth, rekindling the fire of happiness on the sacred New Year’s Eve, a moment when all Vietnamese people, no matter how far they go, long to return and enjoy warm moments with their families.
The taste of Tet at home, in my memory, is also a carefree time, playing with the children in the village, playing one fun game following another. I long to go back to the days when I spent time making firecrackers with my brother. Firecrackers are used to make notebook paper or old books, along with gunpowder powder. The long firecrackers were accompanied by several large mortar shells. When finished, my brother excitedly told me that our firecrackers had to explode the loudest and longest to be effective. And to test whether the mortar the two brothers made would explode as big as it might, we discussed going to the neighbor’s kitchen, placing it next to the ash stove, lighting the fuse to test it. And just like that, the fireworks were very loud. Ash flew from the kitchen everywhere, covering the kitchen, covering the whole pot of pig bran. It was the first time I heard such loud fireworks, and for this reason my mother gave me a painful spanking for being naughty. But fortunately, on New Year’s Eve that year, my firecrackers exploded the loudest in the neighborhood. The sound of fireworks was like the laughter and joy of my two brothers.
I remember the faint scent of the scent in the late followingnoon. I followed my parents to the cemetery outside the village, standing quietly looking at each handful of soil under the sad followingnoon light. Each mushroom is the story of a human life. Burning incense sticks instead of words to say goodbye to the green high place, so that our children and grandchildren can remember their roots. Stopping for a long time in front of my grandmother’s grave, my mother’s eyes were slightly sad. Mother set out a pot of braised fish (termite fish) from the beginning of December. After many times of fire, it became firm and shiny with the smell of molasses. She offered it to her grandmother along with a bowl of plain rice. My mother told my grandmother that when she was alive, she had a very simple personality and only liked simple dishes like a bowl of white rice and a pot of braised fish, which also became a full joy on spring days. Faintly in the spring breeze, the faint scent of my mother’s simple words made my heart feel sad for a moment, and dreamily remembered the time when I was a child and was lovingly cared for by my grandmother. In just a moment, my grandmother followed the white clouds back to heaven, leaving my mother and I with so much endless sadness.
Many years have passed, I have become an adult, busy with urban life. After getting married, I followed my husband to the South to live. There are more and more Tet holidays away from home. Occasionally, sitting in the sparkling sunshine of a southern spring day, my mind vaguely remembers the fragrant smell of rosewood flowers, the pungent smell of neem flowers sprinkled all over the alleys in the drizzly followingnoon, of trembling peach blossom buds. Trembling and showing off on Tet. It felt like my hands were still burning with the smell of fireworks smoke from that year’s Tet, but I felt an indescribable feeling of nostalgia.
Dan Viet electronic newspaper opened the column “Telling village stories” from March 4, 2020. This column is for all professional and amateur authors who have love for the countryside and want to share their true stories with readers.
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