The smell of Vietnamese Tet

Tết has a scent all its own—what people often call the scent of Vietnamese Tết. It is the aroma of incense mingled with pomelo blossoms and chrysanthemums; the fragrance of freshly lifted bánh chưng, still redolent of dong leaves; and the scent of mùi già leaves—a familiar fragrance of Northern Vietnamese culture, used in the ritual cleansing bath on the last afternoon of the lunar year, to wash away the old and the hurt and step into the new year in peace.

The mùi già leaves are boiled, releasing an intoxicating aroma. The whole family bathes together for the year-end ritual, a way of “dispelling misfortune” before the year closes. Everyone feels fragrant, light, and serene, then gathers to welcome the New Year, calling it home.

Tết carries a very distinctive scent. With the lightest touch of memory, hearts soften, and the soul grows wistful, longing for the past. It is the warm incense smoke lingering around the ancestral altar, spreading through the old house, blending with the scent of freshly whitewashed walls prepared to welcome Tết and spring. With just a faint whiff—wherever we may be—we know Tết has returned to our hometown.

The scent of Tết is neither strong nor sharp; it quietly slips into the heart, bringing a feeling of togetherness, peace, and a very gentle nostalgia—a longing that, no matter how far we travel, draws us back to reclaim childhood memories. For those far from home, it is also the scent of homeland and homesickness.

The incense of Tết is not showy or overpowering, but deep, calm, and warm. When a stick of incense is lit on the ancestral altar, time seems to slow, and the heart grows still. Its fragrance evokes our roots—grandparents and ancestors, Tếtes of long ago filled with love—moments of family reunion, of gathering together to pray for a new year of peace and abundance.

Within the thin, gentle veil of incense smoke, people place their hopes, let go of the worries of the old year, and await new beginnings. Thus, Tết incense is not merely a scent; it is an emotion, a part of the soul of Vietnamese Tết—sacred, contemplative, and warm.

As the incense blends into the space, it creates a feeling of reunion: Tết has truly arrived; the family is whole and gathered. Unlike ordinary joss sticks, this fragrance is deep and soothing, slowing the heart after a year of worries. It carries spiritual connection—rituals of worship and remembrance of ancestors—and nostalgia too: the scent of childhood, of quiet New Year’s Eves beside parents, by the glowing fire of a pot of bánh chưng.

There is no dictionary definition for the phrase “the scent of home,” yet it lives vividly in the memories of many across Vietnam’s villages. Only those born and raised in the countryside, who grow up and later live far away with an aching love for home, can truly sense it. It is hard to put into words, but when it drifts by, those from the countryside know it as the fragrance of deep memory—tender and unmistakably rural.

Perhaps the most profound is the scent of Tết in one’s hometown. The Tết of old was a full harmony of fragrance and color: the scent of spring still tinged with winter; new clothes for the holiday; aromas of peach blossoms, orchids, chrysanthemums, and marigolds; the smell of dong leaves and freshly lifted bánh chưng; candied fruits mingled with green tea; the lingering trace of old firecrackers; mùi già leaves perfuming lanes on the last afternoon of the year; dark incense and agarwood warming the entire spring. The scent of tuberose and incense smoke became a thread connecting ancestors with each village family.

And so, each time Tết returns, we are stirred by a tender, brimming nostalgia—“a gentle scent of home lingering forever in the heart.”

The Tết of old, the Tết of the countryside, will remain in each person’s mind. It is not that Tết has faded or been lost, but that each child of Vietnam feels and perceives it in their own way.

Đặng Tự Ân

Source: Báo Đại đoàn kết