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Illustration by Christine Wei
A few years ago, as I sat alone in a Chinese restaurant in Edmonton on Lunar New Year, I heard children saying “Happy New Year” in English. I thought to myself, how lucky I was growing up to see Lunar New Year in Hong Kong.
The waitress came by and asked, “All alone?”
“Yes,” I replied. All my family was out of town, and I was trying not to feel too sorry for myself.
As little kids in Hong Kong, we were excited before Lunar New Year: no school for a week, we’d eat treats such as candies, dried coconut, watermelon seeds, toys and receive red packets called Lai See. We’d cry “Gung Hay Fat Choy!” and an uncle or auntie would hand one over. Free money! Of course we always hoped for the ones without coins, as we knew they held the big bucks. It was so exciting to count up the total haul when the day was all over.
I also vividly remember the night market. For a week before New Year’s, vendors would set up stalls selling flowers, food and toys. Shopping for a peach blossom tree back then was as exciting as getting a Christmas tree now. On New Year’s Eve, the market would be open especially late. Shopkeepers would try to clear out the flowers with deep discounts, almost like Boxing Day. One year we bought a fragrant water lily, which I managed to coax into flowering exactly on New Year’s Day – the ultimate sign of good luck and fortune.
In keeping with tradition, it is customary to do a major cleaning job on New Year’s Eve, because one could not use a broom for the first five days of the New Year for fear of sweeping away good luck. It was superstitious but our family did not break tradition. We also put up banners with lucky sayings written in Chinese calligraphy. My favourite banner was the character “Fu” or “Fook,” which was always hung upside down. Although I was born in Hong Kong, I lived in Canada and Germany between the ages of 2 and 7, so I didn’t really learn the Chinese language until I was 8 years old. For the longest time I couldn’t understand why anyone would turn a character upside down. Turns out it meant “good fortune” and turning it upside down sounded like the word “to arrive.” Put together it symbolized “Let good fortune arrive.”
On the first day of the week-long Lunar New Year celebration, we would go to our paternal grandparents. Because Grandpa was the oldest sibling in his generation, he was not required to leave his home. All the extended family would congregate at his place to wish him a Happy New Year. The kids would sit around all day, while the adults would play mah-jong. That evening we would all have a really good meal at with lots of seafood and chicken. There was always a dish made with lotus root and dried oyster, too, because in Cantonese they sounded like “year after year, you will have good things,” and it was believed that eating these dishes would bring you good luck. I also remember how families saved all year so they could afford to buy one set of new clothes and shoes for everyone to wear for the rest of the year.
On Day 2 it would be my family’s turn to return the favour to all those relatives who had come over to Grandpa’s. The younger generation would do the rounds, bringing fruits and sweets to the older relatives for a brief visit at each home. The best part was to be offered a whole bunch of candy at every house and, of course, Lai See.
Day 3 was considered a bad luck day to be visiting, so we traditionally took a drive into the countryside for barbecued goose and sometimes seafood. We always returned via a different route to complete the “circle of luck.”
By Day 4, life was back to normal. Shops opened again and as kids we just enjoyed the rest of our holiday and counted up our money.
I returned to Canada over 40 years ago and now call this beautiful country home. I feel grateful that we embrace different cultures and traditions. But somehow the atmosphere during Lunar New Year here is different, less festive. No fresh flower markets, peach blossoms or visiting relatives. But it is comforting to still see families get together for that traditional Lunar New Year’s Eve meal, eating the same dishes that are supposed to bring good luck. I do wonder, have things changed? Or did life just seem more exciting as a child?
When I drove home, I thought about how I have become more Canadian than Chinese. It would have felt worse to have spent Christmas alone. Nevertheless, I am determined to retain some of these traditions and insist that my kids greet me with “Gung Hay Fat Choy” before I hand over that red packet of Lai See every year. I hope some day they will be able to experience Chinese New Year in Hong Kong, as I did those many years ago.
Jonathan Choy lives in Edmonton.