Back then, hardly any household had a television; people only listened to the radio. At the sacred moment of New Year's Eve, the President delivered his New Year's greetings to the entire nation, broadcast on the radio. Then, everyone erupted in joy as they welcomed the new year amidst the deafening sound of firecrackers everywhere...
On the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, Dad took the tray of offerings from the ancestral altar. Sticky rice cakes, spring rolls, jellied meat, pickled onions carved into flower shapes – every dish was delicious. The whole family gathered around to enjoy the first meal of the year. The yard was covered in red firecracker remnants in the light spring rain. Children ran out to quickly pick up the unexploded firecrackers that hadn't yet soaked with water.
Tet during the subsidy era wasn't a dazzling display of goods, nor was it a lavish feast, but it was a spring of frugality, sharing, and a uniquely warm atmosphere.
Tet (Vietnamese New Year) came from ration coupons and wood-fired stoves for cooking banh chung (traditional rice cakes).
During the subsidy period, Tet (Lunar New Year) didn't just arrive with the vibrant colors of peach blossoms and apricot blossoms or dazzling streets; it arrived much earlier with worn-out ration coupons. For many families, Tet was a particularly anticipated time of year, not only for the joy of reunion, but also because food rations were slightly more readily available than usual.
From the beginning of the twelfth lunar month, conversations in each household no longer revolve around daily meals but begin to plan for Tet (Lunar New Year). Sticky rice is set aside, meat is weighed down to the gram, and sugar, MSG, tea, and cigarettes are all carefully recorded. Adults worry about how to have the most decent Tet celebration possible within their means.
Then came the long queues for Tet (Lunar New Year) shopping. The biting cold, people bundled up in old padded jackets, clutching their bags, standing close together from before dawn, their eyes fixed on each sliding door as it opened, filled with anticipation. Just hearing the news, "There's meat today," would send the whole neighborhood buzzing with excitement. Sometimes, people would stand for hours just to buy a few hundred grams of meat or a bottle of fish sauce. In the freezing cold, they shared their space, reminding each other to hold their places, and chatting about family and work. Not everyone could buy enough; sometimes, after queuing for hours, the store would announce they were out of stock. Yet, few complained. Families shared with each other, because Tet at that time wasn't just about individual families, but a shared hope of the entire community.

If ration coupons marked the beginning of Tet, then the kitchen was where the spirit of Tet during the subsidy era was preserved. At the end of the year, no matter how difficult things were, almost every household tried to make a pot of banh chung (traditional Vietnamese rice cakes). Not many, just a few square, green cakes, enough to place on the ancestral altar and share among family members. The scene of making banh chung is also an unforgettable memory. Glutinous rice was carefully washed, mung beans were rinsed clean, pork belly was cut into appropriately sized pieces—everything was calculated to meet the standards. Dong leaves were washed by the well at the end of the village, and bamboo strips were split. Adults wrapped the cakes, and children sat around picking leaves.
The night of making banh chung (traditional Vietnamese rice cakes) is the longest and warmest night of the year. The whole family gathers around the fire, watching the pot of cakes bubbling away. Sometimes, the whole neighborhood shares a large pot of cakes, taking turns tending the fire. Outside, the wind is bitterly cold. Inside the kitchen, the flickering fire illuminates sun-tanned, kind, rosy faces, warmed by the firewood and straw, and the endless chatter of stories. Adults tell stories of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) of the past, of the famine years, and of the wars gone by. Children listen while waiting for the moment to eat the first banh chung taken out of the pot, or the small cakes they made themselves or that the adults made specifically for them. Laughter, the crackling of firewood, the smell of banana leaves, and the smell of kitchen smoke blend together to create a unique Tet atmosphere.
New clothes for Tet (Lunar New Year) and the spirit of community.
On the altar, a simple platter of five fruits consists of a bunch of green bananas, a pomelo, and a few oranges and tangerines. The focus is not on elaborate presentation, but on sincerity. The fragrant incense carries the reverence of the descendants, conveying their wish for a peaceful and more prosperous new year than the previous one.
During the subsidy period, the Tet feast wasn't elaborate, but it was always prepared with utmost care. A plate of thinly sliced boiled pork, a bowl of dried bamboo shoot soup, a plate of pickled onions, and evenly distributed slices of pork sausage. Some families replaced the pork sausage with homemade cinnamon-flavored pork sausage. Sticky rice cakes (Banh Chung) were cut into neat square pieces using bamboo strips. The richness of the fat, the nuttiness of the beans, the chewiness of the sticky rice, and the tangy, spicy flavor of the pickled onions blended together. The Tet meal was a time for the whole family to gather. Those working far away also tried to return home. After a year of hard work, they only longed for a few days during Tet to sit together around the table, wishing each other good health, and sharing stories of the past and present.

During the subsidy period, a new outfit for Tet (Lunar New Year) was a simple dream, but not always a reality. Fabric was rationed, and getting new clothes required planning well in advance. Many families chose to share a single bolt of fabric. Sometimes, older siblings had to give way to younger ones, and old clothes were mended and ironed to wear during Tet. Yet, just a new shirt, a pair of new sandals still smelling of plastic, was enough to make children happy for the whole Tet holiday. On the morning of the first day of Tet, dressed in their best clothes, the children happily wished their grandparents and neighbors a happy new year, receiving tiny red envelopes, sometimes just a few cents, but their joy was overflowing.
Material shortages didn't diminish the joy of Tet during the subsidy era, because the joy came from the smallest things. The whole family would gather to listen to the radio program celebrating the New Year, watching a few cultural performances on the neighborhood's rare black-and-white television. Spring songs would play, and even though the sound wasn't perfect, it was enough to fill people's hearts with excitement.

A striking feature of Tet during the subsidy period was the strong sense of community and neighborly solidarity. Families with sticky rice cakes would give them to those who hadn't had time to make their own, and those with pickled onions would share them. Families who were single or struggling received care and attention from the entire neighborhood. On New Year's Day, people would visit each other to exchange New Year's greetings, without elaborate gifts, just a packet of tea, a pack of cigarettes, or a pair of sticky rice cakes. The wishes were simple and sincere, hoping for a peaceful new year with enough food and clothing. Children ran around the alleys, their laughter echoing through the old, whitewashed walls, playing traditional games like stick fighting, hopscotch, and tug-of-war... creating a simple yet warm picture of Tet.
Life is increasingly prosperous, and modern Tet is rich and convenient. However, ration coupons, rice books, pots of sticky rice cakes simmering over the fire all night, and the smell of kitchen smoke lingering on the rooftops—Tet during the subsidy era has become an indelible part of collective memory, where family values and community spirit were cherished...
Source: https://baophapluat.vn/boi-hoi-tet-thoi-bao-cap.html







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