Oh Kumquat Tree, Oh Kumquat Tree...

This is what arrived in our living room on Friday afternoon...a GIANT kumquat tree.  Naturally this would be John's idea.  The kumquat is a traditional festive tree for the celebration of Tet, the Chinese New Year, which arrives on February 3rd.  John thought we should embrace the local custom, and get a Tet tree for our house (this is where you should imagine our kids rolling their eyes and saying, "Daddy thinks he's Vietnamese now.")  I agreed it sounded like fun.  John headed off with a Vietnamese friend to go kumquat shopping.

Prior to his shopping trip, I had read the following about the kumquat tree and Tet...

A kumquat tree with many fruits makes a house brighter and warmer, especially in the cold weather in the northland. The tree is a popular decoration for the living room during Tet. Its many fruits symbolize the fertility and fruitfulness that the family hopes will come in the coming year. The more fruit on the tree, the luckier your family. Greeting cards and good luck symbols are hung from the Tet tree.

Therefore, kumquat trees of about two or three feet tall are carefully selected and prominently displayed during Tet. The bushes of the tree have been precisely pruned to display ripe deep orange fruits with smooth clear thin skin shining like little suns or gold coins on the first day of the lunar new year. Other fruits must still be green to ripen later. This represents the wish that wealth will come to you now and in the future. The leaves must be thick and dark green with some light green sprouts. The fruits represent the grandparents, the flowers represent parents, the buds represent children and the light green leaves represent grandchildren. The tree thus symbolizes many generations. Guests will caress the light green leaves about to sprout and compliment the discerning host who chose so carefully.

 

I'm going to ignore the bit about "fertility" and "fruitfulness" and move right on to the size of the tree..."two or three feet tall," it says.  The behemoth in our living room stands about ten feet tall.  It is in the middle of the room in a broken concrete pot (so dirt is seeping out). I just shook my head when it arrived.  I wondered aloud what John's plan was to get it from the center of the living room to a discreet corner. He informed me that it is supposed to sit in the center of the room, so everyone can see it.  This is like putting a redwood in the middle of the living room.  The issue is not about seeing it, it's about seeing around it. And then John tells me we are supposed to decorate it.  He picked up some flashing lights and some red dangling banners (I'm not clear on the significance just yet).  I am resisting the decorations until the tree finds a less prominent home.  I am thinking the "fish pond area" which has been designated as the Vietnamese culture corner would be a nice spot (kind of out of the way and next to an outlet so the obnoxious flashing lights don't also need an obnoxious extension cord).

So, we've all given John a very hard time about his tree, which seems to have strengthened his resolve and loyalty to the citrus monstrosity.  He has designated himself the "Guardian of the Kumquats."  When the kids attempt to eat one of its deep orange, sun-like fruits, he goes ballistic and the beatings begin.  For those of you who know John's affinity for "vacuum-packing" all things potentially valuable, this will come as no surprise.  This is the guy who freaked out when his three-year-old son dared play with the Tiger Woods Bendo toy he found in the attic.  Tiger Woods had been in the "untouchable" category until Foster (in perhaps an astonishing premonition of Tiger's fall from grace) dared pry open the container and contaminate the toy by exposing it to fresh air.

Now that the kids know John is deeply committed to preserving the kumquats, they tease him endlessly to let them eat them.  John stands firmish.  He makes silly rules like, "you can only eat one that is in a clump," in an effort to maintain the symmetrical beauty of his queen arbor.  Anyone caught with a whiff of orange on his/her breath will bear the full weight of his wrath. I am thankful that my parents are arriving next week, because I fear all of the symbolic grandparents will have been eaten off by the time Tet rolls around.  When they arrive and first glimpse this beauty, I do hope they remember to "caress the light green leaves about to sprout and compliment the discerning host who chose so carefully," before they roll on the floor laughing.