(01/29/2008)

 

 

 

At home, Tet symbolises new beginnings and important observances for Vietnamese people. Overseas, small communities in out of the way places still celebrate, albeit somewhat less extravagantly.

Small expat communities around the world cling to their traditional celebrations be they religious observances, or the ritual of passage into a New Year.

Life in Vietnam is blessed with two New Year celebrations within a few short weeks, with western and eastern holidays providing for some serious time off work.

Tet, its exact date determined by the lunar calendar, usually falls within January or February, meaning foreigners in Vietnam must choose whether to stay home for extended Xmas holidays, or return to Vietnam to welcome the Lunar New Year with friends.

Overseas, communities of Vietnamese find Tet to be just as important, but often face the same confounding circumstances as foreigners looking to celebrate Xmas or New Year in Vietnam. The size of expat communities has a direct affect on their ability to procure the essentials for their festive celebrations. Christchurch in New Zealand is no exception.

According to one fish and chip shop owner, while larger parties are held in larger urban centres in the country, the community in the south of the country is too small, and therefore festivities are small themselves.

In another decade or so, he supposed, when the Vietnamese community is bigger, the celebrations would grow. When asked how big the community was here he replied "Your guess is as good as mine mate."

He said celebrations in his house were small, just a dinner to mark the occasion. And the ubiquitous Tet tree? Well, like looking for mistletoe in Hanoi, the traditional cumquat just won't grow in this climate.

 

It took some time to get him talking on the matter, being a busy Friday night in the chip shop (Friday being traditional New Zealand night to scoff fried foods - and boy does it show on the national waistline).

 

Initial efforts to procure information on Tet celebrations by New Zealand Vietnamese were met with a mixture of confusion. The chip shop man just simply didn't know what I was on about.

 

Early attempts at a cordial Chuc Mung Nam Moi (Happy New Year) were greeted with a blank look. "You know, Tet" also didn't go down very well. "Chinese New Year" I ventured, to which the man said, "Oh right".

 

Similarly to attempts at celebrating Xmas in Vietnam, where the festival is interpreted as Tet Noel, when the Santa Claus comes, celebrations can feel like you're just going through the motions. After all, while kids may centre attention on what's in Santa's sack, the holiday really is about family, and when you're miles away, it can really amplify the homesickness.

 

Searching for a more recent arrival to these fair shores, Tet investigations led to a downtown Asian food court. A curious thing happens when you spend a few years in Asia - well, a lot do really - but one overriding influence is the need to eat rice.

 

I don't recall eating it that often in Vietnam; although in reality it must have been at least once a day. The humble potato I am sad to say, being the cornerstone of my existence for over two decades, pales in comparison to the power of rice.

 

Rice withdrawal manifests as a chronic tiredness, not crippling, but definitely a background hum of lethargy. Some folks seem to get so hungry they can't even move, although those are extreme cases. This means that, perhaps without even noticing you are doing it, you'll check out the lay of the Asian cuisine landscape, mentally noting rice sales points, just in case you get the pangs.

 

Shopping for Tet flowers in Sydney: While cumquat, Vietnam's ubiquitous Tet tree, is almost unavailable, marigold represents a good option.

 

For a small community, Vietnamese people have a high profile in this town. Restaurants abound, education institutions target their advertising towards them in bus stations and most folks have slurped down a bowl of pho in the last few weeks.

 

Vietnamese cuisine has a very high profile, and being everywhere it has become a sort of benchmark to equate expenses among expats returning home. Fielding emails from returned expats, there will always be a line that runs "... and a bowl of pho costs...!"

 

A bowl of pho costs NZ$5.90 for a regular size. In Japan they say it's US$7-ish. That should therefore give you a fairly good idea of where we are in the world.

 

Hao works at Vietnamese Cuisine in the Asian food court in central Christchurch. Having been in the country just six months, he was a little shy about his English, although friendly enough to want to chat about Tet.

 

Celebrations he said, were limited to a small party, just enough to ensure the success of the business in the year to come. As a fledgling business - although the food court has prime positioning and is bustling every lunch time - western notions of ensured success weren't going to placate the young man.

 

But while the success of the business had been assured by rituals, Hao seemed to doubt the prowess of the Rooster in fertility terms.

 

As yet unwed, when asked about his chances for romance this year, Hao looked a little forlorn and uttered a smattering of words to indicate that while he would prefer to meet a nice Vietnamese girl, his dance card in Christchurch would be rather short.

 

One of the charming things about these southern lands however, is their shirking of the former mantle that determined them as exclusively European. While the shelves may still stock mostly white bread, there is a dawning awareness that these islands are a part of the Asia Pacific region, rather than some clingy colony of Old Blighty.

 

In future, more diverse festivities should be seen, and hopefully for young chaps like Hao, a little more of a singles scene.

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