Chuc Mung Nam Moi

“Chuc mung nam moi” means “happy new year” in Vietnamese. It’s one of the select few Vietnamese phrases that I have mastered.

Today is the lunar new year for 2006, which I had long thought was a fact that only astronomers and meterologists liked to geek about, but apparently the Chinese care very deeply about the day of the second new moon after the day on which the winter solstice occurs. So for all you Chinese folks out there, happy new year. Or, in Cantonese: “Sun nien fai lok.”

Because the Vietnamese are unoriginal wannabes with an inferiority complex to the Chinese, they also celebrate the beginning of the lunar year. The celebration is called Tet, and while to many this means jack shit, to me it means I get a big fat red envelope full of money from my mom.

Last night my parents came down to Champaign to take me out to dinner for the new year. Like she always does, my mom graciously handed me the red envelope, then wished for me a prosperous year of studying and to perhaps lose my beer gut. As we were walking out to the car to head out to the restaurant, I said to my mom: “I think I need to start being the one giving out red envelopes, to my little cousins or something, instead of you giving them to me. I feel like such a kid when you give me this stuff.”

“You alway be my babies to me,” my mom replied.

“Yes, I know that, and that’s cool with me Mom,” I said. “But what I’m saying is that I should give out red envelopes every year too.”

“Lose weight,” she said.

And then later on at the Japanese restaurant we decided to eat at, I said, “So let me clarify something here. The Chinese new year celebration lasts 15 days, but the Tet celebration lasts 3 days... right?”

Between gulps of sushi my mom answered, “Threes days. We’re Vietnameses, not Chineses. I don’t care what the Chineses do. It’s threes days for the celebrations. Not fifteens. Where you gets that froms? It’s threes days.”

“Okay okay okay, Mom, take it easy, I just wanted to make sure. I always get it mixed up.”

“Exercise more.”

“Lose weight” and “Exercise more” is my mom’s way of saying “Hello” and “Goodbye” to me these days.

Anyway, my biggest qualm about this whole New-Year’s-in-Late-January business are Chinese horoscopes and how the Chinese think that everyone born in a certain year acts the same way.

2006 is the Year of the Dog, as is every 12th year before it. This website, as well as placemats in Chinese restaurants across America, has this to say about people born on the Year of the Dog:

Dogs can be a bit overwhelming, due in part to their attentive natures. They can march in and take control of a situation, even when it doesn’t involve them directly. This can lead people to think Dogs are nosy or gossipy, but in reality, he just means well. Money and status don’t matter to the Dog. He is more concerned with the welfare of his family and friends and will do whatever it takes to help them out of a tight squeeze or a rough spot. Once Dogs determine a subject of interest, they usually master that before taking off for a new adventure. They like to finish what they start. They are honest and trustworthy people, ethically strong and morally kept. They make loyal friends and companions.

1994 was also the Year of the Dog. That means that the Chinese expect us to believe that in every sixth grade class in America, every single student in that class is responsible, compassionate, reliable, honest, pessimistic, anxious, overwhelming, and nosy, and are ONLY compatible with “tigers” and “horses”.

Riiight. I guess we’re not all unique little snowflakes after all.

But whatever. I’ll be content to just keep my mouth shut and continue to collect those red envelopes full of money every year. Chuc mung nam moi, ya’ll.