#CNY

Despite the fact that most Thais born and raised here aren’t dual citizenship holders, many like to tack on “Chinese” when asked by foreigners their nationality. No one can tell you your great-great-great-great-great grandparents on your father’s side weren’t Mainlanders, but is a small percentage of blood significant enough to call someone Thai-Chinese? Not really. We give people more credit if they can prove knowledge of their heritage. Since Chinese New Year is a huge cultural celebration observed annually by Chinese descendants worldwide, we are putting you to the test. How many CNY customs on our list apply to you?

Don’t disturb the dust

Before Chinese New Year, you clean every imaginable corner of your house, so the germaphobe part of you won’t have a nervous breakdown on Chinese New Year and a few days thereafter when the tiniest shift of a speck of dust risks blowing away your wispy, visiting ancestors and good fortune.

Ni hao, extended family

Chinese New Year is that one time a year — unless there is a wedding — you get to see your parents’ 20 brothers and sisters. And their kids. And their kids’ kids. Under one roof. Award yourself one extra point if your house serves as the venue for this oversized family gathering.

Ang pao wow

The thought of red envelopes gives you pangs of feels because they’re either (1) your primary source of annual income as a dependent minor or (2) they signify the loss of your hard-earned income to the unemployed fledglings in your family.

Gold foldin’

Part of being Chinese is being able to magically turn flat sheets of gold into 3D gold nuggets through the ancient art of paper folding. But the real deal is being able to turn joss paper into conical “passports” for you ancestors to show the gatekeepers of heaven. There are actually YouTube tutorials for this sophisticated piece of origami, so an extra point if you know the folds by heart. 

Burning bling

After the exhaustion of folding the golden nuggets, you send them off to your ancestors in heaven by burning them, along with a bunch of funny mock luxuries — paper credit cards, boarding passes, mansions, iPhones and iPads. Don’t forget to supply your ancestors with paper chargers if you’re sending them paper electronics. One extra point if you’re batting and yelling around the bonfire to ward off extraneous spirits trying to steal from your ancestors.

Unofficial official holiday

There’s no question about taking the day off for Chinese New Year, even if it’s not included in your annual holidays. Frankly, you’re insulted that Western New Year and Thai New Year each receives a national pardon from the economy, but Chinese New Year doesn’t. That’s racist. One extra point if you take off more than one day for Chinese New Year.

Dressed to the eights

You can’t have grown up Chinese without knowing eight is the luckiest number. Being dressed to the eights for Chinese New Year means being properly dressed in red, the colour of good luck and happiness. You deserve an extra point if you’re wearing something with a Chinese collar.

“Xin jia yu yi xin ni huad xai”

No pronunciation tutorial or meaning explanation needed here. This phrase flies off your tongue without an ounce of brainwork on Chinese New Year.

Duck, duck, duck

There are a lot of delicacies on the table during the family get-together, but one bird stands out in abundance: duck. But it can’t be one from the Four Seasons nor the equally rewarding MK roasted duck. No, this poultry has to be the bland, rubbery version with the scary head intact. Holla to eating leftovers for the rest of the week.

Orange you gonna give me oranges?

Speaking of excessive edibles, Chinese New Year brings on the war of oranges in which we all suffer under the possession of more oranges than we can deal with. If only we weren’t so metaphoric and actually gave each other what the oranges stand for. (Hint: Au on the periodic table of elements.)

0: You have nothing to do with China and were never suspicious that you did. You just took the bloody test to confirm your 0% Chinese heritage. Good on you.

1-3: You married into a Chinese family and are only present for endless food — and because you’d rather watch things burn in the backyard than go to work in an empty office.

4-6: You come from a Chinese family, but “have been bewitched by the Western lifestyle”, as your elders put it. You’re not particularly thrilled about putting your work, concerns for global warming, progressive sense of fashion or self-righteous restrictive diet on hold for Lunar New Year, but — if you’re still eligible — are willing to recite a perfect “xin jia yu yi xin ni huad xai” for a few red envelopes. 

7-9: The only difference between you and the previous category is that you’re an esteemed elder and siblings with a #10.

10+: Congratulations, you are truly Chinese and a stickler to your roots! You went to Chinatown earlier in the week to buy all the paper luxuries. Your last Line conversation was with your duck vendor, and you feel personally responsible for making sure the family doesn’t forget that their great-great-great-great-great grandparents on their father’s side were Mainlanders.