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Traditional Tet celebrations were filled with fragrant aromas.
In the memories of many, Tet (Vietnamese New Year) of the past wasn't characterized by dazzling lights or a cascading sound of music. Instead, it arrived with a tranquil, subtle fragrance. The gentle scent of incense wafted through the old house. The aroma of coriander leaves boiled in water for the year-end bath. The scent of roasted soapberry gently burning by the straw-fired stove. The fragrance of freshly arranged flowers still covered in morning dew. These scents weren't ostentatious or overpowering, but quietly blended together, creating a unique atmosphere—the atmosphere of Tet.
Bathing with coriander leaves on the afternoon of the 30th of Tet (Lunar New Year's Eve) is a unique traditional custom, especially in Northern Vietnam.
As Tet approaches, people begin burning incense. Not the overpoweringly strong kind, but a gentle, delicate fragrance with a slightly sweet aftertaste. The thin smoke drifts slowly, swirling around the roof, clinging to wooden walls and the folds of clothing. In the quiet ancestral altar, the scent of incense seems to slow down time. People burn incense not only for worship, but also as a way to cleanse their minds, allowing the worries of the year to subside, making way for tranquility.
In the old days, agarwood was a precious commodity. Not every household possessed it. Sometimes it was just a small stick of agarwood, reserved for New Year's Eve or the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year. But precisely because it was scarce and precious, the scent of agarwood during Tet (Lunar New Year) was deeply ingrained in our minds. Just a fleeting whiff was enough to feel the arrival of Tet, to conjure up a sacred atmosphere before our eyes.
Thin wisps of incense smoke drifted slowly, swirling around the roof, clinging to the wooden walls, and settling on the folds of clothing.
Then there's the scent of the year-end bath. On the afternoon of the thirtieth, in the kitchen, a pot of water infused with coriander leaves begins to boil. The herbal aroma rises, slightly spicy to the nose, a simple yet pleasant fragrance. Coriander leaves aren't as intensely fragrant as flowers, nor as sweet as essential oils, but possess a very "earthy," very Vietnamese scent. Bathing in coriander leaf water isn't just about cleansing the body, but a ritual of purification, to leave behind the dust and fatigue of a long year.
Some households even boil soapberry. Dried soapberry fruits are lightly roasted over the stove to release their aroma, then added to the pot of water. The warm, smoky scent of soapberry is unforgettable. Hair washed with soapberry water becomes softer and darker, but most importantly, each time you inhale the fragrant scent, you feel like you're stepping into a new year with complete neatness and tidiness, from your hair to your soul.
Traditional Tet (Vietnamese New Year) also had the scent of flowers. Not large, elaborate bouquets, but a few branches of peach blossoms, apricot blossoms, or vases of gladioli or chrysanthemums placed in a place of honor. Flowers for Tet were carefully selected, not only for their color but also for their fragrance. Pale peach blossoms have a very subtle scent, almost imperceptible only when you get very close. Yellow apricot blossoms have a stronger, sun-kissed scent, delicate and subtle. Chrysanthemums have a gentle, long-lasting fragrance, like the resilient and hardworking nature of the Vietnamese people.
Flowers for Tet (Vietnamese New Year) are usually carefully selected.
The scent of Tet in the old days is tranquil.
On the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, waking up early, the house was still quiet, the scent of flowers mingled with the fragrance of incense and sandalwood, creating a scent that was difficult to name. It wasn't the scent of a specific flower or incense, but the scent of a spotlessly clean house, a scene of bustling family reunions during the New Year.
Outside, the spring breeze blows across the veranda, carrying the scent of damp earth and freshly watered plants. In some rural areas, the early morning of Tet still carries the faint smell of straw and the lingering smoke from the kitchen fires of New Year's Eve. These scents aren't clean in the modern sense, but they are very real, very alive, very close to nature. Tet in the past also had the scent of incense. In the last days of the year, people would burn grapefruit peels, tangerine peels, or fragrant wood to fumigate their homes. The natural essential oils from the peels and herbs spread, creating a warm and clean atmosphere. People believed that fumigating the house would dispel old energy and welcome new luck. But more profoundly, it was a way for people to create a new beginning, using familiar and pleasant scents.
Go to the market to buy coriander leaves, and bring the scent of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) from the old days home.
Unlike today, when fragrances often come from bottles, perfumes, or industrially produced scented candles, the scent of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) in the past was the scent of nature, of everyday things. Therefore, it seems deeply ingrained in our minds. The scent of coriander leaves can transport one back to their entire childhood. A puff of incense smoke can calm and soothe the heart, even in the midst of a bustling city.
This Tet (Lunar New Year), many things have changed. Houses are more enclosed, air conditioning replaces natural breezes. Fragrances are also more modern, from essential oils, scented candles, and air fresheners. Everything is convenient, beautiful, and contemporary. But somewhere, people still feel something is missing. Something hard to name. Perhaps it's the scents associated with childhood memories of agricultural life, with the slow pace of life of the past. Not everyone still boils coriander leaves in water. Not every house still burns incense during Tet. But just one chance encounter with that scent at grandmother's house, in a rural area, or in a sudden flashback, and that scent awakens everything. It awakens the last afternoons of the year, the chilly mornings of the first day of Tet, the peaceful moments of family gathering.
After all, Tet is not just about time, nor is it just about ritual. Tet is about feeling. And that feeling is often preserved longest and most clearly through scent. The scent of Tet in the past was quiet, not noisy or ostentatious, but deep enough to stay with people throughout their lives.
Amidst the constant changes of modern life, perhaps what we need is not to cling to the traditional Tet holiday, but to re-enact its spirit. Light an incense stick. Boil a pot of fragrant herbs. Arrange a vase of fragrant flowers. Let Tet arrive a little slower, a little deeper, and linger longer in people's hearts.
Because, ultimately, Tet (Vietnamese New Year) isn't about lavish feasts or elaborate displays. Tet lies in the moment when we pause, take a deep breath, and recognize the tranquil, nostalgic scent of Tet from the past.
