My Sheboygan Hmong New Year
layers are put on so tightly I can barely breathe, and there are so many layers I look like I'm in
my third trimester. But I did it for my mom, and forced my younger sisters to do it as well.
The new location for the festivities is at my old high school, which has a brand new
multimillion-dollar field house. The new field house meant no high heels because the floor
could be ruined; but that didn't stop girls from looking their best. I just wore flip-flops.
Arriving at the high school, the familiar blue banner greets us "Nyob Zoo Xyoo Tshiab - Happy
New Year, 2007-2008."
After a quick stroll around the field house, wondering why anybody would spend so much
money on a field house rather than the school itself which is sinking due to the fact that it's built
on an old dumpsite, my sisters and I head to the floor to start ball tossing with each other.
Ball tossing or pov pob is a traditional courting game practiced at the New Year event. Hmong
people are traditionally farmers and the New Year coincides with the end of harvesting. The
celebration is not only a chance to bring in the New Year, but it is also a time to find a spouse.
During ball tossing, if a woman catches the eye of a man, he will ask her for her last name,
making sure they are not of the same clan. If they aren't, then he would ask her to ball toss with
him. Women usually line up on one side of the field and men on the opposite. The couple tosses
the ball back and forth, chit chatting and getting to know each other. Parents will usually watch
the couple, observing the woman to see if she would be a good wife for their son. By the end of
the day, if the man really likes the woman, he will take her home and the marriage process can
begin.
Ball tossing is also accompanied with kwv txhiaj which is a kind of recited poetry. It functions
in the same way as freestyle hip-hop rap. The man will recite a kwv txhiaj and the woman listens
carefully to what he is saying and when he is done, she responds with her own kwv txhiaj. Kwv
txhiaj can be memorized and learned but it is a skill of quickness and cleverness, being able to
come up with lyrics at the top of your head.
Today, ball tossing is still somewhat of a courtship, except there are no marriages at the end
of the day, maybe just an exchange of phone numbers. Boys and girls don't really know how to
recite kwv txhiaj anymore and don't really understand its meanings either. Girls are also more
readily to deny boys who come ask them to ball toss. Parents and grandparents still sit and watch
their sons and daughters participate in such a tradition, but perhaps more to reflect on their own
days than to watch the courtship process.
My sisters and I line ourselves up with the rest of the people already ball tossing, and start
alternating between the three of us, throwing the ball back and forth. Then, "Oh my God. I hope
he is not coming this way." Damn! "Hi, can I ball toss with you?" "I'm too old for you," I quickly
answer. "Wait, I think I remember you from high school." I remembered him too and he is
definitely too young for me and not my type. "Wait, what is your last name?" "I'm a Lee." "Oh me
too, I guess we can't ball toss then." Thank God! "OK, nice to see you again." "OK, bye."
That was my cue to leave the floor and go sit in the bleachers with my parents. "Why are you
back so soon? Go pov pob." "I did. I'm tired now." "You've only been here for 30 minutes. The
New Year is only once a year, you need to go out there and enjoy it." "I know, but I'm going to sit
for a little bit." "Well, we have to go home soon, your mom has to work today." "OK, I'm ready to
go home." So after two hours of dressing me up this morning, I spent only about 45 minutes at
the New Year celebration that day. It's OK, there's still two more days of the New Year left.
my third trimester. But I did it for my mom, and forced my younger sisters to do it as well.
The new location for the festivities is at my old high school, which has a brand new
multimillion-dollar field house. The new field house meant no high heels because the floor
could be ruined; but that didn't stop girls from looking their best. I just wore flip-flops.
Arriving at the high school, the familiar blue banner greets us "Nyob Zoo Xyoo Tshiab - Happy
New Year, 2007-2008."
After a quick stroll around the field house, wondering why anybody would spend so much
money on a field house rather than the school itself which is sinking due to the fact that it's built
on an old dumpsite, my sisters and I head to the floor to start ball tossing with each other.
Ball tossing or pov pob is a traditional courting game practiced at the New Year event. Hmong
people are traditionally farmers and the New Year coincides with the end of harvesting. The
celebration is not only a chance to bring in the New Year, but it is also a time to find a spouse.
During ball tossing, if a woman catches the eye of a man, he will ask her for her last name,
making sure they are not of the same clan. If they aren't, then he would ask her to ball toss with
him. Women usually line up on one side of the field and men on the opposite. The couple tosses
the ball back and forth, chit chatting and getting to know each other. Parents will usually watch
the couple, observing the woman to see if she would be a good wife for their son. By the end of
the day, if the man really likes the woman, he will take her home and the marriage process can
begin.
Ball tossing is also accompanied with kwv txhiaj which is a kind of recited poetry. It functions
in the same way as freestyle hip-hop rap. The man will recite a kwv txhiaj and the woman listens
carefully to what he is saying and when he is done, she responds with her own kwv txhiaj. Kwv
txhiaj can be memorized and learned but it is a skill of quickness and cleverness, being able to
come up with lyrics at the top of your head.
Today, ball tossing is still somewhat of a courtship, except there are no marriages at the end
of the day, maybe just an exchange of phone numbers. Boys and girls don't really know how to
recite kwv txhiaj anymore and don't really understand its meanings either. Girls are also more
readily to deny boys who come ask them to ball toss. Parents and grandparents still sit and watch
their sons and daughters participate in such a tradition, but perhaps more to reflect on their own
days than to watch the courtship process.
My sisters and I line ourselves up with the rest of the people already ball tossing, and start
alternating between the three of us, throwing the ball back and forth. Then, "Oh my God. I hope
he is not coming this way." Damn! "Hi, can I ball toss with you?" "I'm too old for you," I quickly
answer. "Wait, I think I remember you from high school." I remembered him too and he is
definitely too young for me and not my type. "Wait, what is your last name?" "I'm a Lee." "Oh me
too, I guess we can't ball toss then." Thank God! "OK, nice to see you again." "OK, bye."
That was my cue to leave the floor and go sit in the bleachers with my parents. "Why are you
back so soon? Go pov pob." "I did. I'm tired now." "You've only been here for 30 minutes. The
New Year is only once a year, you need to go out there and enjoy it." "I know, but I'm going to sit
for a little bit." "Well, we have to go home soon, your mom has to work today." "OK, I'm ready to
go home." So after two hours of dressing me up this morning, I spent only about 45 minutes at
the New Year celebration that day. It's OK, there's still two more days of the New Year left.
KaBao Lee with her younger
brothers
brothers
By KaBao Lee
Curled up on the couch, still half asleep, I hear my little brother's voice. "Mommy, is there videogames at the
Hmong New Year?" I crack a smile. My mom answers, "No, there are no videogames there." Like any 6-year-old,
he whines, "Ah man, then I don't wanna go."
The truth was, I was never all that anxious to go either. It's the same thing every year — go through two hours
of dressing up in traditional Hmong clothing; sit uncomfortably in the car while driving down to the Sheboygan
Armory; then toss a ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth; try to avoid creepy guys who want to ball
toss with you by using the excuse "I have to go to the bathroom" or "My family's leaving now I have to go," only
to see that same guy 10 minutes later; and then having to put all these clothes back nice and neat into their
suitcases until next year.
But this year it was different. The Sheboygan Armory is being transformed into a rocket-launching and space
education facility, the Great Lakes Aerospace Science & Education Center, which is a part of the Spaceport
Sheboygan project. The three-day Hmong New Year celebration (following Thanksgiving Day) in Sheboygan
was going to have to find a new location.
Ever since I left for college I have told my mom that I am too old to dress up for the New Year — especially
now that I'm 22. I don't want high schoolers hitting on me, because at barely 5 feet tall, I still look like I belong
in high school. But this year, I'm going to tolerate the concoction of layers of colorful sashes, an embroidered
shirt and fan-like pleated skirt, accentuated by dangling tiny beads and silver coins that jingle with every
movement. I was not, however, going to wear the heavy silver necklace that leaves a tumor on the back of my
neck for weeks and that turban like head piece that makes my head the same shape as E.T.'s. The
Curled up on the couch, still half asleep, I hear my little brother's voice. "Mommy, is there videogames at the
Hmong New Year?" I crack a smile. My mom answers, "No, there are no videogames there." Like any 6-year-old,
he whines, "Ah man, then I don't wanna go."
The truth was, I was never all that anxious to go either. It's the same thing every year — go through two hours
of dressing up in traditional Hmong clothing; sit uncomfortably in the car while driving down to the Sheboygan
Armory; then toss a ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth; try to avoid creepy guys who want to ball
toss with you by using the excuse "I have to go to the bathroom" or "My family's leaving now I have to go," only
to see that same guy 10 minutes later; and then having to put all these clothes back nice and neat into their
suitcases until next year.
But this year it was different. The Sheboygan Armory is being transformed into a rocket-launching and space
education facility, the Great Lakes Aerospace Science & Education Center, which is a part of the Spaceport
Sheboygan project. The three-day Hmong New Year celebration (following Thanksgiving Day) in Sheboygan
was going to have to find a new location.
Ever since I left for college I have told my mom that I am too old to dress up for the New Year — especially
now that I'm 22. I don't want high schoolers hitting on me, because at barely 5 feet tall, I still look like I belong
in high school. But this year, I'm going to tolerate the concoction of layers of colorful sashes, an embroidered
shirt and fan-like pleated skirt, accentuated by dangling tiny beads and silver coins that jingle with every
movement. I was not, however, going to wear the heavy silver necklace that leaves a tumor on the back of my
neck for weeks and that turban like head piece that makes my head the same shape as E.T.'s. The
With mother (middle) and KaBao's sisters
More than 4,000 Hmong and friends enjoy
traditional food at the 2008 Hmong New Year in
Sheboygan, Wis.
traditional food at the 2008 Hmong New Year in
Sheboygan, Wis.
The next day was the day everyone is most excited about. There's free food! Chue Kao Xiong, chairman of the Sheboygan Hmong New Year
committee, says "Lunch is provided by the whole community. This is a very important tradition that has been carried on for thousands of years.
Sheboygan is one of the few cities that continue this old tradition." The task of feeding 4000 to 5000 people is daunting but what is impressive is
that the Hmong community makes it possible year after year. For over 25 years, the Sheboygan Hmong New Year continues this tradition, as the
Hmong population in Sheboygan increases and participation from non-Hmong increases as well.
Hmong families traditionally identify with their clans: Yang, Vang, Xiong, Lee, Vue, Moua, Thao, etc. Every year, a different clan is in charge
of dividing up preparation and organizing the meal. Clan leaders call each family within their clan and distribute the work. Xia Vue Yang, a
respected Hmong leader in Sheboygan and host of the Sheboygan Hmong radio, explains that each family is in charge of preparing and bringing
egg rolls, broasted chicken, hard-boiled eggs and rice, while 10 families are randomly chosen to make salads. These families aren't paid; they use
their own money and time to make it possible.
Today, the jingles of the silver coins aren't as loud and only a few flashes of colorful dresses can be seen because no one wants to get food on
their clothes.
As soon as the announcer says it's almost time for lunch, the crowd eagerly scrambles into disorganized lines inside the cafeteria. "OK, don't
push. We have plenty of food for everyone," a Hmong voice announces over the loud speakers. The 4000 or so crowd — a mixture of gray-haired
elderly men and women; toddlers dolled up in dainty dresses and tuxedos; teenagers, some in their traditional Hmong clothing while most in their
street clothes; proud parents; and a few non-Asians — eagerly wait. Finally, volunteers bring out trays of rice, eggrolls, salad, broasted chicken,
and hard-boiled eggs. "OK, let's eat! Happy New Year!"
As the crowd sifts through the food line, I sit and guard a table for my family. I scan in and out of the lines trying to find them. A tiny hand
waving frantically catches my eye. It's my 3-year-old brother, who my mom is trying to hold on to. I make eye contact with my mom so she knows
where I am.
After lunch, the audience is treated to a fashion show, showcasing all the different Hmong people from Green Hmong, White Hmong, Chinese-
Hmong, Thai-Hmong, etc. Performances of traditional Hmong dances and instruments are also showcased. Sheboygan Mayor Juan Perez speaks
to the crowd, reiterating the need for cultural events such as the Hmong New Year to make a small community such as Sheboygan unique.
Even though it's a Saturday, mom has to go to work again, so in the middle of the show we left.
Back in Laos, families would prepare enough food and water for three days so that those three days can be solely for enjoying New Year
festivities. Today, time is dictated by work hours and the New Year can only be enjoyed when your work schedule permits. Sunday is the last day
of the celebration. Like the first day, it is for more ball tossing and kwv txhiaj. Most people have more than one traditional Hmong outfit, so Sunday
is another day to show off more of their traditional clothing.
I make an appearance on this day too, but only as an observer. Sitting up on the bleachers, I watch and observe the happenings around me. I
listen to the kwv txhiaj, trying to understand the meaning, but not really quite understanding. I reflect on my own understanding of my culture and
my people, being proud and embracing who I am and where I came from, and finding myself thinking about next year's New Year already.
committee, says "Lunch is provided by the whole community. This is a very important tradition that has been carried on for thousands of years.
Sheboygan is one of the few cities that continue this old tradition." The task of feeding 4000 to 5000 people is daunting but what is impressive is
that the Hmong community makes it possible year after year. For over 25 years, the Sheboygan Hmong New Year continues this tradition, as the
Hmong population in Sheboygan increases and participation from non-Hmong increases as well.
Hmong families traditionally identify with their clans: Yang, Vang, Xiong, Lee, Vue, Moua, Thao, etc. Every year, a different clan is in charge
of dividing up preparation and organizing the meal. Clan leaders call each family within their clan and distribute the work. Xia Vue Yang, a
respected Hmong leader in Sheboygan and host of the Sheboygan Hmong radio, explains that each family is in charge of preparing and bringing
egg rolls, broasted chicken, hard-boiled eggs and rice, while 10 families are randomly chosen to make salads. These families aren't paid; they use
their own money and time to make it possible.
Today, the jingles of the silver coins aren't as loud and only a few flashes of colorful dresses can be seen because no one wants to get food on
their clothes.
As soon as the announcer says it's almost time for lunch, the crowd eagerly scrambles into disorganized lines inside the cafeteria. "OK, don't
push. We have plenty of food for everyone," a Hmong voice announces over the loud speakers. The 4000 or so crowd — a mixture of gray-haired
elderly men and women; toddlers dolled up in dainty dresses and tuxedos; teenagers, some in their traditional Hmong clothing while most in their
street clothes; proud parents; and a few non-Asians — eagerly wait. Finally, volunteers bring out trays of rice, eggrolls, salad, broasted chicken,
and hard-boiled eggs. "OK, let's eat! Happy New Year!"
As the crowd sifts through the food line, I sit and guard a table for my family. I scan in and out of the lines trying to find them. A tiny hand
waving frantically catches my eye. It's my 3-year-old brother, who my mom is trying to hold on to. I make eye contact with my mom so she knows
where I am.
After lunch, the audience is treated to a fashion show, showcasing all the different Hmong people from Green Hmong, White Hmong, Chinese-
Hmong, Thai-Hmong, etc. Performances of traditional Hmong dances and instruments are also showcased. Sheboygan Mayor Juan Perez speaks
to the crowd, reiterating the need for cultural events such as the Hmong New Year to make a small community such as Sheboygan unique.
Even though it's a Saturday, mom has to go to work again, so in the middle of the show we left.
Back in Laos, families would prepare enough food and water for three days so that those three days can be solely for enjoying New Year
festivities. Today, time is dictated by work hours and the New Year can only be enjoyed when your work schedule permits. Sunday is the last day
of the celebration. Like the first day, it is for more ball tossing and kwv txhiaj. Most people have more than one traditional Hmong outfit, so Sunday
is another day to show off more of their traditional clothing.
I make an appearance on this day too, but only as an observer. Sitting up on the bleachers, I watch and observe the happenings around me. I
listen to the kwv txhiaj, trying to understand the meaning, but not really quite understanding. I reflect on my own understanding of my culture and
my people, being proud and embracing who I am and where I came from, and finding myself thinking about next year's New Year already.