From the 22nd day of the twelfth lunar month, many streets of Hanoi have "bloomed up" in a very unique way. Not the expensive perfume smell in luxurious places, nor the lingering agarwood scent in ancient houses, but the gentle, faint scent of old age creeping through each street.
Just passing by a corner of the market, a small street, or simply stopping to wait for a red light, people can suddenly "touch" that childhood scent.
No fixed stalls, no clear signs, motorbikes carrying the smell of stale food just roam the streets. After the saddle is a bundle of bundles of trees tied neatly, roots still covered in soil, tiny white flowers interspersed with scattered small seeds. Sellers walk slowly, while waiting for customers. And buyers just need to pass by and automatically turn around to search.
Catching a small, pretty motorbike full of old incense, Mr. Nguyen Truong Tho stopped the motorbike and called back: "How much money for a bunch, how to sell it, sister". The simple question in the crowded street sounds like a familiar signal of the days leading up to Tet.
Mr. Nguyen Truong Tho (Hoan Kiem ward, Hanoi) recalled: "I can't forget the scent of the old cilantro tree, just a flash and I can recognize it immediately. I bought it to keep at home from the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, now when I see it, I will buy it again so that on the afternoon of the last day of the year, the whole family will bathe in cilantro leaf water, washing away the misfortunes of the past year".
For him, it is not just a habit, but a small ritual but enough to feel a complete Tet. He describes the old smell with a gentle, pleasant aroma. No matter how large the house is, just open the door, that scent spreads throughout the space, touching every sense.
For many years, every time this occasion comes, Ms. Do Thi Tuoi (Gia Lam, Hanoi) and her family are busy with fragrant goods. For her, it is a seasonal job but also an indispensable part of Tet. "This year, the weather is not rainy and windy, so the harvest output is quite stable. In the morning, I transport about a quintal to deliver to massage and spa stores for them to use for sauna. Conveniently, they sell retail along the street, 10,000 VND per bundle" - she shared.
In addition to selling fresh coriander, her family also supplies raw materials to business establishments. Some people come to the garden to buy the entire field, the price ranges from 5-7 million VND depending on the area and quality. In addition, there are essential oil products extracted from coriander - something that many people prefer because of its convenience.
Making essential oils is like being at home, wash them thoroughly and then boil them to get distilled water. Making that is very enjoyable, consumers prefer it, from offices to small families" - Ms. Tuoi recounted.
At Hang Be area - which many people jokingly call the "rich market" in the heart of the Old Quarter, the buying and selling atmosphere is also bustling from early morning. Ms. Nguyen Thu Toi's stall (Gia Lam, Hanoi) is bustling with people asking. The price of each bundle is slightly higher, about 15,000 VND, but most customers still buy from two bundles or more to be enough for the whole family in the late afternoon of the year.
However, Ms. Toi said that this year the garden yields less due to frost, the trees and fruits are not as thick and large as every year. The bundles of cilantro are therefore even more cherished when they reach buyers.
Ms. Toi shared her secret: "People often choose old perfume - the type that has bloomed, with sparse small fruits, and the stem turning purplish brown to boil bath water.
According to folk beliefs, bathing in coriander water on the last day of the year is a way to wash away bad luck, send the old year through cleanly and fragrantly to welcome a peaceful new year. But besides that meaning, in the busy pace of life in the days leading up to Tet, the simple thing is the feeling of soaking in warm water amidst the sweet cold of the spring weather, inhaling the familiar scent.
Amidst the bustling crowd, old-smelling cars still quietly pass through each street. Not noisy, not ostentatious, only leaving behind a very light scent - but enough to make anyone away from home, or who has passed through many Tet seasons, suddenly feel their heart soften.
