In the heart of Ho Chi Minh City, a village where incense sticks are dried in the sun heralds the arrival of Tet (Vietnamese New Year).

(VTC News) - Tet (Lunar New Year) arrives early in the incense-making village on the outskirts of Ho Chi Minh City, where bundles of bright red incense sticks dry in the sun, and artisans quietly preserve their craft, sending the fragrance on the wind to herald the arrival of spring.

In late December, when the city started getting congested with people carrying apricot blossoms and kumquats home, we turned away from the busy main roads and made our way to a small road in Le Minh Xuan commune, formerly Binh Chanh district (now Binh Loi commune, Ho Chi Minh City). That road had no apricot blossoms or red lanterns, but from afar, we could already sense Tet in a very different way.

Along both sides of the road, in front of houses, and in open spaces, thousands of bundles of red, pink, and yellow incense sticks spread out in circles under the sun like swathes of blooming flowers. The entire road seemed to be dyed in a vibrant color, a color that appears most abundantly at the end of the year.

Le Minh Xuan incense village in the days leading up to Tet (Lunar New Year).

This is Le Minh Xuan incense village – the place that produces the most familiar fragrance on every family's altar, but also the place where the number of people practicing the craft is quietly dwindling.

Traditional craft villages amidst urbanization

Nestled amidst a residential area, the incense village has no welcoming gate or tourist sign. But stepping inside feels like entering a time portal. In the courtyards, on the porches, and along the pathways, bundles of red and yellow incense sticks are spread out to dry in the sun. The vibrant colors stand out against the simple setting, creating a natural, unpretentious "Tet backdrop."

We lingered for quite a while in front of an incense drying area. The December sun shone down, making the incense seem even more intensely colored.

Mrs. Tran Thi No, 74 years old, is sitting and rolling incense sticks, her hands moving swiftly and rhythmically as if she knows the craft by heart. Bundles of red incense sticks are arranged around her like giant bouquets of flowers. The December sunlight shines obliquely, making the incense powder in her hands gleam with a reddish-brown color.

Ms. Tran Thi No has been involved in the incense-making craft of Le Minh Xuan for over 35 years.

"At the end of the year, we're so busy we can barely breathe," the old woman said, laughing and holding out her hands. They were bright red from the food coloring. "It never washes off. Everyone in this neighborhood has red hands like this during Tet (Lunar New Year)."

In front of her was a basin of fragrant flour. She dipped each bamboo toothpick into the paste, then quickly rolled it in the flour. Her movements were decisive and steady, as if her body had memorized the technique long ago.

We decided to give it a try. In just a few minutes, the powder was falling everywhere, and the incense sticks were unevenly thick and thin. Grandma Nở looked at it, shook her head, and smiled: "It's fine to do it for fun, but if you make dozens of kilograms a day, you'll see how much your back will protest."

From the beginning of the twelfth lunar month, orders have skyrocketed. Ms. Nở and the workers in the workshop have to wake up at 4 or 5 in the morning, taking advantage of the cool weather to work. "This is the busiest time of the year. People buy incense to offer to the Kitchen God, then for the full moon of the twelfth lunar month, for the year-end ceremony, New Year's Eve... Every household needs incense on their altar," Ms. Nở said.

Not far away, 62-year-old Tran Thi Dieu Linh was busily turning bundles of incense sticks in her yard. "You have to watch out for the intense sunlight. If it's sunny, the incense dries quickly and you can deliver on time. But if it rains unexpectedly, it's like losing sleep and appetite," she said loudly amidst the wind.

Ms. Linh and Ms. Nở are busy preparing goods for the Tet holiday season.

Sweat soaked her back, and the fine dust of incense clung to her, making her whole body look as if it were covered in a brown powder. This December, she worked until late at night every day.

"For the past three weeks, the villagers have slept very little. They work all day, and then rush to finish the work at night," she said, then led us to the mixing area – a makeshift corner of the yard covered with corrugated iron. Sacks of flour were piled high, their strong aroma stinging our eyes.

"Cinnamon powder, sandalwood powder, sawdust, natural binder… we mix them all together so the incense is fragrant and burns evenly. If the incense gets damp at the end of the year and goes out halfway through, we'll lose customers immediately," she said.

When asked if she intended to let her children continue the trade, she shook her head: "The kids are all working in factories now. They have regular monthly salaries, air conditioning, and nobody can stand this dust. I think by the time we're older, the generation that's been dedicated to this profession year-round will be gone. Soon, it will probably only be seasonal work, and we'll only be able to light the fire again during Tet (Lunar New Year)." She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Le Minh Xuan is the oldest traditional craft village and one of the largest incense production centers in the Southern region of Vietnam.

In the sun-drenched incense-making courtyard, we met Nguyen Thi Ngoc Han, 27 years old - one of the few young people still regularly rolling incense sticks these days. Han wore a mask that completely covered her face, her hair neatly tied back, and her hands moved swiftly as she rolled the incense sticks.

"I work at a garment factory. I took time off near Tet to help my parents. This month, every household in the neighborhood is short of workers," Han said. When asked if she felt tired, she smiled: "Of course I'm tired, but it's fun. The Tet atmosphere starts here."

Hân said that since childhood, she's been used to the scene of the whole family gathering around the end of the year to make incense sticks until late at night. The streets are filled with the fragrant scent of incense, and inside the house, the radio plays spring music. For incense makers, the twelfth lunar month isn't just a month of waiting for Tet (Lunar New Year), but the time when Tet has already arrived.

Hân is one of the few young people in the village who still practice the craft. Many young people now work in the village – but they are mostly from other places. For example, Y Xíu and her husband, originally from Dak Lak , moved from their hometown to this new village and have been involved in the craft for over five years.

Y Xíu had just given birth, and to have a decent Lunar New Year celebration, she and her husband decided to work day and night. While talking to us, Y Xíu was carrying her 20-month-old son, who was sound asleep, on her back.

"It's very hard work, but I'm trying my best so that in a few days I can go back to my hometown and have a warm Tet holiday ," Y Xíu said.

With her baby strapped to her back, Y Xíu's hands nimbly rolled incense sticks.

Unlike pre-decorated check-in spots, the experience in the incense village begins with the senses. It's the scent wafting through the air. It's the lively conversations of the villagers. It's the burning sensation of the sun shining down on the drying yards.

Preserving the scent of Tet

In recent years, the incense village has not only been a production site but has gradually become a destination for early Tet (Lunar New Year) tourism experiences. While we were taking notes, a few young people stopped by, carefully asking permission from the homeowners before taking photos.

"We often go out to take photos of Tet early. There's a genuine Tet atmosphere here, not some staged scene," shared a young person from Saigon Ward.

Many foreign tourists also come out of curiosity. They ask about the meaning of burning incense during Tet, about the custom of ancestor worship, and why incense is so important in Vietnamese life. The incense makers explain while they work, using simple English, with patience and pride.

In 2025, the Ho Chi Minh City Department of Tourism announced Le Minh Xuan incense village as one of the top 10 interesting check-in spots in Ho Chi Minh City.

"Vietnamese Tet is associated with ancestor worship, offering incense to connect spiritually, expressing the sincerity, remembrance, and gratitude of descendants," Ms. Linh told us.

There are no official tours or entrance fees to visit the incense village. But it is precisely this rustic charm that attracts many people. They come not only to take photos, but to experience Tet (Vietnamese New Year) with all their senses.

According to locals, the number of orders has increased sharply since the beginning of the twelfth lunar month. Incense is being ordered from all over: within the city, the provinces of the Mekong Delta, and the southeastern region. Some households have to mobilize their entire family to work from morning till night.

The incense makers' lunch takes place right next to the drying yard. It's simple, but the conversation always revolves around Tet (Vietnamese New Year): orders, the weather, whether their children are returning home or staying behind. For them, Tet is not just a holiday, but the culmination of an entire season of hard work.

Delving deeper into the village, we realized that the incense-making community faces numerous challenges. Houses are built close together, and the space for drying incense is shrinking. Few young people are pursuing the profession because the work is arduous and the income is unstable.

The incense sticks are dyed in various shades of red and pink.

As for the large factories, they may seem to reap huge profits during the Tet holiday season, but behind the scenes, there are difficulties that few people know about.

"Previously, the workshop only produced raw materials, meaning we bought wholesale for various customers who would then affix their own brand labels. However, selling like that only yielded a small profit, not enough to cover labor costs. So this Tet season, our workshop is producing finished products to earn a little extra profit," shared Ms. Nguyen Cat Bui Thuy, 55 years old, owner of Minh Phuoc incense workshop.

Ms. Thuy's incense workshop currently employs about 30 workers daily. Besides the elderly, most of the remaining workers are people from other localities who have come to find work and earn extra income. For the local workers, Ms. Thuy allows them to take their raw materials home to work on, eliminating the need for them to gather at the workshop.

Despite the difficulties, every Tet season, the incense village proves that traditional values ​​still have vitality. This is not only through the products sold on the market, but also through the growing interest of tourists – those who come here to learn more about Vietnamese Tet.

Once the rough finishing and complete packaging are finished, they are ready to be shipped to customers.

As we left the village, dusk was falling. The last rays of the setting sun slanted across the bundles of incense sticks that had just been gathered, their bright red color fading into a warm, subdued hue, like the color of a hearth fire on the last day of the year.

The road, which had been as vibrant as a flower garden at midday, was now quiet. Only the scent mingled with the evening breeze, no longer harsh but gentle, weaving through the rooftops and following us to the main road.

From this place, bundles of incense sticks will be transported by trucks and motorbikes, making their way into every alley, every market, and every house being cleaned to welcome the spring. They will rest neatly on the altar, waiting for the moment of midnight to be lit, releasing smoke, connecting earth with heaven, and connecting the living with their ancestors.

Few would imagine that behind that thin wisp of smoke lies an entire craft village ablaze with fire throughout the month of December. It represents mornings waking at dawn, afternoons spent amidst the stinging smoke of incense, evenings racing against the sun, and nights filled with anxiety listening to the rain falling on the tin roofs.

Their Tet (Lunar New Year) isn't measured by the number of days off, but by the number of bundles of incense sticks covering the yard. It's not measured by feasts and family reunions, but by the orders they manage to deliver before the 29th of Tet.

Our car rejoined the bustling city traffic. Somewhere along the road, people were carrying apricot blossoms, sweets, and even pots of kumquats laden with fruit home. No one noticed the bundles of incense sticks hidden behind those windproof tarpaulins. But in just a few days, those very incense sticks would silently appear during the most sacred moment of the year.

Thy Hue

Source: https://vtcnews.vn/giua-tp-hcm-mot-lang-nhang-hong-nang-goi-tet-ve-ar997991.html