Out of all the Chinese festivals I re-member, the hardest for me to forget is the Lunar New Year of my youth.

I remember when I was little, right before the Lunar New Year we'd make an offering to the Kitchen God. Mom always told us not to jabber, and that we should eat some sweets, so as to speak some sweet words. There should be no fighting or disturbances so as not to cause Kitchen God to report unfavorably on our family to the Jade Emporer in Heaven. Before New Year's Eve, Mom had already started the busy process of making New Year's foods like steamed buns, both stuffed and plain. Meanwhile Dad prepared that year's New Year's couplet. The whole family took part in a big New Year's cleaning of the house. The family was as busy as could be. The big streets and hidden alleys of Taipei were swimming with people at this time of year. Shop fronts were piled up with all sorts of foods and gifts appropriate for the New Year's holiday. Last but not least, one of my happiest memories was of the New Year's dinner and especially of the money handed out to us kids in red envelopes. As a kid the New Year was a joyous time with all sorts of treats. I left Taipei when I was twelve years old and in a flash more than twenty years have passed. My memories, however, not only have not diminished, they've actually gotten fresher.

Last year I followed my husband and his work to the Carribean island of French Guadeloupe. It's a place with a population of 390,000 people and an area of 1200 square kilometers. It was here that my husband and I spent the most miserable New Year of our life, eating sausage sent from Mom and Dad that had mildewed after being detained in customs for too long. We cried in each other's arms. This year (1996) while flipping through a volume from a Sinorama series called "Trademarks of the Chinese," I came across an introduction to New Year's couplets and articles about the Chinese New Year. I suddenly had a brainstorm. Why couldn't I, in this place devoid of Chinese people, foods, and thus the New Year's spirit, recreate the New Year of my youth?

Taking advantage of a business trip of my husband's, I went to French Guinea where I was able to pick up a few Chinese foods and Indian spices. Afterwards I went to one of Guadeloupe's stationery stores where I purchased the last two sheets of red paper. I then went to raise an army, sending invitations out to all our friends and asking those who could make Chinese food to provide a dish or two. I borrowed calligraphy ink from one of my Japanese friends and, using a brush that Mom gave me last year, wrote out a New Year's couplet I found in "Trademarks of the Chinese." As I was afraid I might not have time to explain the couplet to my friends, I also wrote a translation in French. I also asked an English friend of mine to fold the red paper into envelopes to prepare the lunar New Year's money for the children.

The day we had been waiting for finally arrived. On the third day of the New Year, a Sunday, a group of over 60 adults and children got together to celebrate the Year of the Ox. For a gathering of people from around the world, we laid out quite a surprising spread of Chinese dishes. I made Ants on a Hill, a type of twisted steamed bread called hua-juan (made for the first time in my life; they looked strange and I doubt a "real" Chinese would have eaten them), and boiled salted chicken. Our French friends provided kung-pao chicken, stewed pork in brown sauce and Cantonese fried rice. Our Japanese friends brought sushi and a raw fish salad. Our Indian friends provided five-spice spareribs and oyster beef. Our Vietnamese friends provided Vietnamese Sausage and small moon cakes, while our English friends provided all sorts of delicious cakes. Those who didn't know how to cook Chinese dishes brought French red wine and champagne. We specially prepared some red cards to identify, in Chinese and French, every dish on the table. My friends discovered that the name of the traditional "ants on a hill" is just a fanciful one. The dishes we had labored over were wiped clean in less than a half hour. (Besides my boiled salted chicken, that is. My foreign friends, seeing a white chicken, feared it was raw and didn't dare eat it.)

After dinner, we announced that it was time to give out the red envelopes and explained that when one's mother and father hands them to one, one should always kneel down and kowtow. Who would have guessed that when I brought out a platter of red envelopes the children would kneel and kowtow to me. I pulled them up quickly and explained again that they needed to kneel to their own parents. My husband commented that it was the first time he had seen with his own eyes the power of the "Red Envelope Culture."

On Guadeloupe getting things done takes time, but news travels fast. Since we held our New Year celebration the island's Rotary Club, Lions Club and other organizations have approached us one after another to request our "Husband and Wife Association" to introduce Chinese culture in a discussion group. We who had grown up outside of China, who believe our shaky knowledge of Chinese culture makes us fake Chinese, would have to read through the Sinorama series.

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"Congratulations on the New Year, please bring out the money dear!" Giving out red envelopes is a high point of the Chinese New Year. As we spent the New Year with friends from all around the world, we of course couldn't have done without this Chinese tradition.