The great part about being Asian is that you get to celebrate two New Year's. February 18th was Chinese New Year, year of the pig. Although I am Vietnamese, we use the same lunar calendar as the Chinese...all Asians come from China anyways ;) According to the Chinese zodiac, there are 12 animals on their 12-year cycle, which helps you determine my age--a number that is a factor of 12. I should jump in jubilation because it is MY year. That's right--I am a pig. Not in the metaphorical sense where I am lazy and like to roll around in the mud all day, but as in the Chinese sign of zodiac. People born in the year of the pig are typically described as polite, honest hardworking, loyal, and damn sexy. (I'm writing this blog so I can make up anything I want!) They are also considered to be lucky, but until I win the million dollar lotto or have a tropical island with a full-service staff to myself, I wouldn't believe that corny folklore. But then again, it's not any better to believe the Vietnamese's superstitious tale that if it is the person's year of zodiac, BAD luck will fall upon them for the year.
I personally don't believe in superstition. What I look forward to the most during New Year's is the convergence of families, not that it is any different from any other weekend. My dad lives right next to his brother and his two sisters live down the block across the street from one another. There are a string of traditional things that we do for New Year's. Plates of fresh fruits are placed on the Buddha's and ancestral altar and for Lord Earth (or for some protector of the house), and incense burns before them. We get dressed up and go from one family's house to another to wish them good health, abundance in wealth and good fortune. Adults give kids red envelopes with new, crisp dollar bills in them. (Unfortunately I'm considered an old fart and don't get any more envelopes; it is my turn to give money to my younger cousins, but I'm too lazy to go to the bank to get new currency. Hmmm...maybe the zodiac description is right...) After, we drive off to the cemetery to visit my grandpa and then make our way to the temple, where we pay reverence to the Buddha and to the ancestral altar. To tie it all up, we head back home and eat with the family, perhaps play some bo-cua-ca-cop, or in English, cow-crab-fish-tiger, a roulette-like game where players place money on a character on a game mat, and the dealer throws the dice to see which two characters turn up. If the dice matches your character, the dealer has to pay you.
The best part of all of this is being able to spend time with my parents and silly aunts and uncles, and especially my 80 year old grandma. To know that my grandma will not be with me forever and to know that the adults are aging each day make those moments even more precious. The customs and traditions that we carry out are as much a part of our culture as it is our unique identity. Without them, we lose our heritage and the gift that our parents gave to us.
The great part about being Asian is that you get to celebrate two New Year's. February 18th was Chinese New Year, year of the pig. Although I am Vietnamese, we use the same lunar calendar as the Chinese...all Asians come from China anyways ;) According to the Chinese zodiac, there are 12 animals on their 12-year cycle, which helps you determine my age--a number that is a factor of 12. I should jump in jubilation because it is MY year. That's right--I am a pig. Not in the metaphorical sense where I am lazy and like to roll around in the mud all day, but as in the Chinese sign of zodiac. People born in the year of the pig are typically described as polite, honest hardworking, loyal, and damn sexy. (I'm writing this blog so I can make up anything I want!) They are also considered to be lucky, but until I win the million dollar lotto or have a tropical island with a full-service staff to myself, I wouldn't believe that corny folklore. But then again, it's not any better to believe the Vietnamese's superstitious tale that if it is the person's year of zodiac, BAD luck will fall upon them for the year.
I personally don't believe in superstition. What I look forward to the most during New Year's is the convergence of families, not that it is any different from any other weekend. My dad lives right next to his brother and his two sisters live down the block across the street from one another. There are a string of traditional things that we do for New Year's. Plates of fresh fruits are placed on the Buddha's and ancestral altar and for Lord Earth (or for some protector of the house), and incense burns before them. We get dressed up and go from one family's house to another to wish them good health, abundance in wealth and good fortune. Adults give kids red envelopes with new, crisp dollar bills in them. (Unfortunately I'm considered an old fart and don't get any more envelopes; it is my turn to give money to my younger cousins, but I'm too lazy to go to the bank to get new currency. Hmmm...maybe the zodiac description is right...) After, we drive off to the cemetery to visit my grandpa and then make our way to the temple, where we pay reverence to the Buddha and to the ancestral altar. To tie it all up, we head back home and eat with the family, perhaps play some bo-cua-ca-cop, or in English, cow-crab-fish-tiger, a roulette-like game where players place money on a character on a game mat, and the dealer throws the dice to see which two characters turn up. If the dice matches your character, the dealer has to pay you.
The best part of all of this is being able to spend time with my parents and silly aunts and uncles, and especially my 80 year old grandma. To know that my grandma will not be with me forever and to know that the adults are aging each day make those moments even more precious. The customs and traditions that we carry out are as much a part of our culture as it is our unique identity. Without them, we lose our heritage and the gift that our parents gave to us.
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