The scent of Tet

As the first breeze begins to knock on the door, bringing with it the chill of the twelfth lunar month, hearts suddenly become heavy. That's when the "scent of Tet" begins to permeate every breath, every home, awakening dormant memories in everyone's heart...

The Tet cake wrapping competition in Thoai Son commune preserves the beauty of Tet traditions. Photo: Phuong Lan.

Throughout the gardens, the festive atmosphere of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) is already in full swing. Gardeners are busy tending to each flower bud, nurturing each cluster of ripe fruit, and pouring into their efforts the hope for a bountiful harvest.

For farmers like Mr. Phan Minh Man, residing in An Chau commune, the scent of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) doesn't come from something far-fetched, but rather permeates every cool breeze and the fragrance of newly sprouted shoots. For him, celebrating Tet early means anxiously watching the sky and the earth, constantly monitoring the growth of the plants and leaves. It's the scent of sweat mixed with hope, as each leaf and each bud carries the weight of a whole year of tending the garden.

This year, the atmosphere at Tam Man's flower garden is somewhat subdued as the market shows signs of slowing down. The keen insight of a seasoned professional prompted him to proactively reduce production from 20,000 pots of flowers to 10,000 pots of various types. Amidst economic anxieties and the unpredictable weather, the gardener's Tet celebration remains resilient. It's about adapting to survive, and nurturing the young shoots to bring the colors of spring to every home.

Tet (Vietnamese New Year) is also present in the hustle and bustle under every roof. It's a time when the whole family cleans the house together, sweeping away the dust of time to welcome the good fortune of the new year. The rustling sound of bamboo brooms, the smell of fresh paint, the scent of the dry sun on freshly washed mats… all blend together to create a distinctive atmosphere that people call the smell of Tet preparations. Amidst this busyness, people feel lighthearted knowing that home is the most peaceful place to return to.

For many, the scent of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) isn't something far away; it's always intertwined with the hardworking image of their mother. Perhaps it's because mothers are the soul of family reunions, the busiest people when spring arrives. While we're still preoccupied with our own plans, mothers have already begun their journey of nurturing our home. No sooner has she finished tidying up the old things than we see her busily cleaning the ancestral altar and furniture.

In the days leading up to Tet (Lunar New Year), my mother's hands never seemed to rest, constantly washing clothes and bustling around the kitchen amidst the smoke, preparing all sorts of fragrant homemade cakes and sweets. Despite the hard work, I never once heard her complain. Because, hidden behind those drops of sweat, was the simple happiness of a woman who cared for every little corner of her home.

When I was little, I used to sit behind my mother, weaving through the crowds at the local market, insisting that she buy me the bag of candy I wanted. Now that I've grown up, my position on the motorbike has changed. I no longer cling to her back but have become the driver, taking her shopping to make our little house even cozier. But strangely enough, no matter how old I am, in my mother's eyes, I'm still the child who needs to be cared for.

For Ms. Ngoc Oanh, a resident of Binh Hoa commune, the scent of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) is unique. It's the smell of the new clothes her mother bought for her. It's the scent of the hard times, when her mother toiled back and forth at the market to earn money for new clothes for her. Even as time has passed, from those impoverished days to her thirties, that "smell" remains intact—not the scent of luxury, but the scent of protection and care.

Each of us experiences the scent of Tet (Vietnamese Lunar New Year) in our own way, because everyone's memories are different. Ms. Ngoc Han, currently working in South Korea, shared emotionally: "After more than five years working abroad, I long for the feeling of celebrating Tet in my hometown with my parents, but it's all just a wish." For people like Ms. Han, the scent of Tet now only exists through the small screen of a phone. When she misses home and the traditional Tet atmosphere, she can only sadly "celebrate Tet online" through pictures friends post on Zalo and Facebook. Seeing others showing off their Tet wrapping, or taking their mothers to the market to buy supplies, her heart aches with longing and nostalgia.

"The scent of Tet" cannot be defined by color, shape, or any specific object or phenomenon. It is the sum total of the most sacred emotions. It is the scent of gratitude, the scent of tolerance and boundless love of family, and the scent of old memories... No matter how much life changes each day, the scent of Tet remains as pure as ever, making us yearn for it every spring.

PHUONG LAN

Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/mui-tet-a476642.html