Shortly after our Company Annual Lunch on 12.03.2018, I was driving back to the office with one of my staff members, Terence when our conversation turned to Chinese New Year traditions. To my surprise, I discovered that many customs commonly practiced before the 1970s are still very much alive in his family today.
This staff member, who is of mixed heritage - a Sino, with a Chinese father and a Kadazan mother - still observes several traditional rituals during Chinese New Year. Among them: taking a bath on New Year's Eve with water boiled with pomelo leaves, refraining from the use of foul language throughout the CNY celebrations, and avoiding sweeping the floor on the first day of the new year.
What amazed me was how enduring these beliefs remain. The ritual bath with pomelo leaf-infused water, meant to cleanse away bad luck and repel evil spirits, continues to be observed with sincerity. Equally fascinating is the taboo against sweeping on the first day of the new year, rooted in the fear of inadvertently sweeping away incoming fortune and prosperity. It’s remarkable to see how these deeply rooted traditions persist even in mixed-cultural households, standing as a testament to the enduring power of ancestral customs.
This year, we celebrated Chinese New Year in Batu Pahat, staying at a homestay in a quiet housing estate near Sri Gading. As the clock struck midnight on Chinese New Year’s Eve, the celebrations erupted with a familiar frenzy - firecrackers began exploding at the house next door and soon echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. The sky lit up with flashes and booms, and for the next hour, any hope of sleep was futile.
Although firecrackers are officially banned in Malaysia, their absence has never truly been enforced. Not a single year has passed in Malaysian history without the sound and spectacle of firecrackers ushering in the new year. One way or another - by hook or by crook - some Chinese families always manage to get their hands on them. For many, the very thought of celebrating Chinese New Year without firecrackers is unthinkable. It’s more than just noise and light; it's a cultural symbol believed to drive away evil spirits and welcome prosperity with a bang.
In the end, I found myself circling back to a fundamental question: What defines a Chinese person? Is it purely genetics? Are you Chinese simply because you carry Chinese DNA? Many would argue that this is too simplistic a definition.
A more meaningful answer might be: A Chinese is someone who consciously preserves and practices Chinese culture, traditions, and values - even those that may seem outdated or irrelevant in today's fast-paced, technology-driven world. But this raises another question: if a non-Chinese embraces and faithfully upholds all these customs and traditions, can they be considered Chinese too?
This dilemma becomes even more personal when you start feeling that your own sense of Chineseness - your cultural identity - is slowly slipping away. That very feeling often sparks a deeper urgency to hold on to what's left: the language, the rituals, the symbols, the stories passed down through generations. Perhaps this is why Chinese culture has proven so remarkably resilient. Despite political pressures, restrictive legislation, or even attempts at cultural assimilation, it continues to thrive - adapting, resisting, and persisting.
Yet it’s important to remember that Chineseness is not something fixed or frozen in time. It is not a static identity. Like all cultures, it evolves - quietly reshaping itself through each generation, blending with new influences while still holding on to its roots. And perhaps that fluidity is the secret to its endurance.
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Decorating trees with angpow is a fairly new phenomenon, probably borrowed from the idea of decorating a Christmas tree.
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