My father told me that he had a difficult and arduous childhood with his friends in his poor village. It took a whole day's journey from the village where he lived to the district town. Getting to the village school every day wasn't easy because most children had to follow their parents to fish, herd buffalo, glean rice, and plant potatoes. That was many years ago.
When the villagers finished harvesting the winter-spring rice crop, the weather turned cool and then gradually became milder, and the yellow apricot blossoms began to bud. My father and his friends knew that spring had arrived, and Tet (Lunar New Year) was coming. In reality, Tet in our poor village was no different from any other day. Perhaps the only difference was that the meal was a little more abundant, and parents distributed more cakes and fruits. The dream of wearing new clothes and frolicking around was just a fantasy, let alone receiving lucky money envelopes from elders as described in books.
But the yearning to fully experience the spring atmosphere prompted my father to make a bold decision. At the age of 12, he researched and crafted a lion dance costume to share with his friends, celebrating the New Year and dancing it throughout the poor neighborhood.
My father recounted that before starting the project, he went to see his teacher to ask to see the drawings of lion dances for Tet (Vietnamese New Year) in the teacher's book. He memorized the specific details of the lion, such as its horns, eyes, beard, body, and colors, so that he could recreate it. Knowing my father's intention to create a lion for Tet, the teacher praised his work and promised to provide paintbrushes and pigments to decorate the artwork.
Back home, my father borrowed an aluminum basin about 80cm in diameter from my aunt to use as the frame for the lion's head. He turned the basin upside down, glued papier-mâché around it, cut it out to make the mouth, and used colored powder to draw the lion's beard and mustache, and large, round eyes like the ones in the teacher's books. The lion needed horns to be majestic, so my father found several branches of the wild jasmine plant, about the length of a child's wrist, with a curved shape. He peeled off the rough outer layer to reveal the white, spongy core inside. He cut a section, colored it, and glued it onto the basin. And just like that, the lion had horns, a beard, and eyes.
Next, Dad borrowed a checkered scarf from Grandma, a product of the Long Khánh - Hồng Ngự - Đồng Tháp weaving village. He tied the scarf around the lion's head. The lion was now complete. He placed the basin on his head, held onto the rim with both hands, raised and lowered it, stepped forward and backward, and the lion looked quite impressive. But the lion dance needed drums and cymbals to create the lively atmosphere of spring. Dad called out, and his friends brought a tin bucket and two pot lids to make small drums. The drumsticks were chopsticks used for scooping rice, embellished with two red fabric strings obtained from the village seamstress. And so began the lion dance for Tet (Vietnamese New Year).
For the first three days of spring, my father and his friends eagerly and enthusiastically carried their lion dance costume around the neighborhood, performing house after house. The lion knew how to stand in a stance, bow to the homeowner, and jump high to receive gifts hanging on the bamboo pole in front of the gate... It was exhausting before they would let a friend take their place. The gifts from the villagers were just cakes, candies, and occasionally a few coins, but the lion dance troupe was very happy. My father's friends vied for the position of the lion's head; few were willing to take the body part because it required bending over, which quickly tired them and... prevented them from showing off to the audience.
The three days of Tet quickly passed, and the lion dance troupe completed its task, battered and bruised from countless dance performances. The tin container was dented, the chopsticks were broken in half, and only one of the two pot lids remained intact, but no one was scolded.
In the following years, my father improved his techniques. He made lion heads from discarded cardboard boxes he received. The materials were more diverse, and the drawings were more vivid. The neighbors praised him a lot.
Then the war spread to the countryside, and people sought safer places to live. My father grew up and went to the city with relatives to study. The joy of lion dances during Tet was gone...
Later, when we had families and our lives improved, Dad bought us brothers some really beautiful lion dance heads to enjoy during the spring festival.
My father shared that even though the lion dance costumes he buys for his children and grandchildren today are more beautiful, durable, and come with musical instruments, he will never forget the lion dance and his friends from the old days of hardship and scarcity in his village.
Watching my father reminisce about the Tet holidays of his childhood, I understood his feelings. Now, life is better; the lion dance costumes for Tet are more elaborate, the lion dance troupes train more professionally, attracting more viewers, and some troupes even compete and perform abroad, achieving resounding success.
Those Tet holidays of the past will always be a source of fond memories for my father.
NGUYEN HUU NHAN
Ward 2, Sa Dec City, Dong Thap Province
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