Craving the taste of Tet in the countryside

Poet Vuong Cuong: "Tet in my hometown is the most beautiful Tet for me"

Having spent many Tet holidays away from home. But for me, Tet holidays in my hometown (Dong Bich village, Trung Son, Do Luong) are still the most exciting and beautiful Tet holidays.

One of the indispensable hobbies of the boys in the neighborhood is making match guns. The guns are made months in advance, hidden and waiting for Tet to be fired. I, like many other children, have my own match guns, hidden in a secret place like a treasure. But every day I secretly open them to look at them over and over again, sometimes I crave them so much that I steal my mother's matches and take them outside to shoot one. The explosion is not loud but enough for a boy like me to feel ready for a complete and fulfilling Tet.

Only on Tet holiday, my mother gave me some matches to shoot a gun. It was as fun as the joy of new clothes. One year, a month before Tet, my mother took me to buy a shirt at a department store. As soon as I put the shirt on, I happily ran home. My mother paid for it and when I got home, she discovered that the shirt was too short and tight. However, I had to wait a month later, on Tet holiday, to wear that short shirt.

On the morning of the 29th and 30th of Tet, my friends and I woke up early to ride buffaloes to Quy Mountain. We drove the buffaloes to Dong Bang or Da Vut, then went home to play. In the village, we could hear the pigs squealing. At Truong well, many people were washing dong leaves to prepare for the night of wrapping banh chung. On the night of the 29th, almost the whole village stayed up to wrap and cook banh chung. I dozed off with my grandmother sitting and watching the pot of banh chung. She told us fairy tales. Her voice, next to the flickering fire of the fragrant banh chung pot on Tet, was so warm. And the small cakes that my father often wrapped for each child were the greatest joy on the last day of the year.

Poet Vuong Cuong

On the afternoon of the 30th, my mother took the children back to my maternal home. She brought chicken and sticky rice to celebrate Tet with my grandfather. My grandfather was a poor scholar with the highest degree in the area, respected by everyone. He patted his grandchildren's heads and gave each of them a peanut candy. On the first day, at dawn, I ran out into the street. My mother told me not to go into anyone's house. The children and I played marbles around the banyan tree in the village hall. On the afternoon of the first day, we saw villagers coming to each other's houses to wish each other a happy new year. On the fifth day of Tet, the village was really happy. Young people played on swings in pairs, their colorful clothes fluttering. The human chess team went out to the yard. Until now, I still think the human chess in my village is the most beautiful...

Having celebrated Tet away from home for more than half of my life, there were memorable Tets when I was in the army, but deep down in my heart, every Tet is still my hometown Tet. Because even when I can no longer make match guns with my friends, or ride a buffalo at the foot of Quy hill on the last day of the year before Tet, or listen to my grandmother tell fairy tales while staying up all night waiting for banh chung, or my mother take me to the store to buy new clothes, those memories always appear in my mind, as if they were living with me once again. When you are too attached to something, it means that you will always have it, will never lose it. For me, the old Tet days in Dong Bich village will always accompany me during Tets far from home.

Writer Vo Thu Huong: "Pitying myself when I miss Tet in my hometown"

I have lived in Vinh for nearly 20 years, and in Ho Chi Minh City for more than 15 years. As fate would have it, my house in Vinh or Ho Chi Minh City is just a few steps away from the Tet flower market. As soon as December comes, a series of colorful flowers and fruits are blooming, waiting for Tet. The Tet atmosphere fills every step. But somehow, for me, Tet is only truly Tet when I return to my hometown.

Tet is only truly Tet when you see the peach blossoms blooming more and more, more colorfully during the three days of Tet, right in the middle of the living room. It is only truly Tet when you eat the sticky rice cake wrapped the day before, huddled around the sticky rice tray with your grandparents, in the sweet cold. It is only truly Tet when you display the flowers you have cared for since they were bulbs and sprouts. It is only truly Tet when you go out from home to the alley and hear your hometown accent, speak your hometown accent. At midnight, early morning on the second or third day, you hear a voice selling hot steamed buns, crispy bread... the plaintive accent of your hometown, and feel sorry for those who cannot celebrate Tet fully...

Writer Vo Thu Huong

I remember most the Tet holidays when my mother was still alive. I prepared candies and Tet couplets with my mother to sell at the Vinh market intersection, went with my mother to buy flowers in the late afternoon when the flower market had closed (the flowers were almost free at that time because people were selling them off to get home in time for New Year's Eve), when I returned to my hometown, I suddenly touched my mother's hair mixed with salt and dew or when I boiled a pot of fragrant water made from lemongrass leaves and old coriander leaves, making the house smell fragrant for everyone to bathe at the end of the year...

More than 20 km from my current home is Di An town, Binh Duong. During Tet holidays when I don’t have the opportunity to return to my hometown, I always set aside 1 or 2 days to return there. There are many areas where you can meet Nghe An people wherever you go. When I return to Di An, I will eat mackerel braised with molasses from Nghe An, pass by the alley and hear the neighbor with a heavy Do Luong accent full of affection calling me in to drink green tea, and give the kids a molasses cake cooked exactly like the molasses cake that I used to sit with my eyes wide open, waiting for her to make for the New Year’s Eve offering. And just like that, I feel less restless, my heart softens with the Tet holidays away from home in a place with bright sunshine and brilliant yellow chrysanthemums.

My friend, Ms. Le Chi, an editor in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly an editor at NTV) said that she rarely celebrates Tet away from home. There was a year when her job was close to the 30th of Tet, so she was not ready to book a plane ticket in advance. It was only when the return date was near that the mother and child got on the train, bought extra seats, and had to spread out mats to lie on the train floor, reeking of the sweat of strangers. She disregarded everything because she only wanted to return home for Tet, burn incense at her father's grave, and reunite with her mother. There are things that seem to be boring if repeated every year, but Tet is not one of those repetitions. Tet is a rule, a cycle connected by love.

“I am a country girl/ Many long years in the city” - is a verse by poet Giang Van, so simple, like a confession, a heart-to-heart talk. But why every time Spring comes and Tet comes, remembering it makes my heart sink, pitying myself, someone who always craves the taste of Tet in the countryside.