Date Collected 4/21/2026
Context:
A good friend of mine, who immigrated with his family from Bangladesh for college, told me about the Bengali New Year celebration, “Pohela Boishakh” or পহেলা বৈশাখ. He told me about the general celebration and how his family’s celebrations differed from the norm.
Text:
On April 14th, “my family wakes up, we dress in red or white, and eat this fermented rice, mashed potatoes, and hilsa fish.” He explained to me that he thinks the white represents purity, and red represents joy or energy. But to him, the colors really symbolize the spirit of the new year and the celebration of Bangladesh. He tells me that breakfast typically consists of mashed foods, lots of vegetables, and starches, with a single piece of hilsa fish. He explained that the Hilsa fish is Bangladesh’s national fish and a cultural icon. When he was young, his family taught him that’s the way things are done, but he never really questioned it until he came to America and learned about our traditions. He explained that as he got older, his family stopped making the fermented rice (which would actually get you a bit drunk). For them, it was just a tradition that his parents wanted to pass down to him and his sister, “kind of like hunting for easter eggs.”
After the breakfast, the celebration isn’t over. They move to the streets, painted red and white. Parades go through the streets and people celebrate kind of like a big picnic. He explained it was “similar to the Marty Gras,” but without all the alcohol or debauchery. But a similar level of excitement, fun, celebrations and an almost parade like atmosphere. His celebration was quite different from those in the big cities, where they used parade floats and giant symbolic animal heads. In the countryside, things were simpler, and people would set up around the grass at parks and visit each other’s setups. It was a time for old friends to connect. He mentioned his dad’s old soccer friends had a spot at a local park they would revisit every year. Lunch continued the excitement and festivities with street food or barbecue-style setups. The countryside differed from the city in that the focus was on building community rather than on the nation or on symbolic ideas.
The celebration would continue throughout the day and into the night; families return home and enjoy an intimate family meal with fish, lentils, and, of course, rice. He explained that typically, the women would stay back or leave the celebrations early to cook and prepare the family dinner. Sometimes they would be able to take rotations, but unlikely. He explained that in his family, most of the cooking was done the night before, so there was maybe like an hour of work to do, and he would return home to help his mom and sister cook. To him, the festival was patriotic and a way to unite as a community, to remember his identity and beliefs, and honor his family and traditions.
Analysis:
The story was very interesting to me; it sounds similar to the festivals and events I’m familiar with, but at the same time, so different. The rice and a single slice of fish remind me of an almost religious practice because it is so specific and symbolic. But the practice is regional, not religious; people in India, including West Bengal, also celebrate it. I found it funny because my friend is a devout Muslim who refuses to drink when we go out. So, his telling me that the fermented rice got him buzzed had me feeling betrayed. But, he told me that “it’s nothing and doesn’t count as a sin.” This was very interesting and makes me think that aspects of the celebration, like the fermented rice must predate the country’s Islamic influence.
In addition, the meal seems to be a symbolic fresh start to the year. The rice and slice of fish are humble and could represent a simple style of living, or starting the year humbly. The fish, also the national fish of Bangladesh, suggests that including fish conveys national pride and recognition of the country.
My friend also mentioned a lot of details that he wasn’t sure about some of the traditions. He knew what they were and how to do them, but he never really considered why. They were just his way of life. His normal. It wasn’t until he experienced new cultures in coming to America that he began to think about why.
In addition the traditions aren’t static, they adapt. Fir instance he joined his mom and sister in cooking, and as he’s grown older, they no longer eat the rice. This just goes to show how traditions can change over time. As other cultures and norms change, some traditions might be viewed as less important, childish, or outdated, and may be cut or replaced by new traditions.
The costumes (red and white clothing) serve to show who is participating in the holiday. They serve as a physical representation of membership in the folk group, community, and celebration. They have symbolic significance, but my friend didn’t focus on the colors’ meaning. What mattered to him was that the colors represented Bangladesh and, more specifically, the country’s holiday. The same could be said about the hilsa fish and fermented rice. The meaning of each individual piece might not be significant or known to every participant, but the larger cultural meaning of being Bangladeshi and “in” on the tradition is where the meaning lies.
I also found that Dhaka’s procession, animal floats and general celebration style is protected under UNESCO, but not the holiday itself.
After moving to LA, he and his family had to change their traditions even more. He said that the celebrations are fragmented. Despite the large Bangladeshi population in K-town, it seems most celebrations are held at home and don’t last as long as they do back home. This shows how, as cultures and ideas spread to new communities, they must change and adapt to those communities. It seems the Bengali population in K-town is not unified yet to come together as a community and celebrate. But, it could also be because K-town isn’t “home.” His family just immigrated fairly recently, so they don’t have the same communal bonds they had back home. So that could be a factor as well. In LA, the family becomes the folk group, whereas back home, it was the community or even the nation as a whole.