Traditions

The start of the new year is a chance to do usual traditions all over again, one that gets me excited every time. When the clock struck midnight, I jumped and threw my 20-peso coin collection to the floor in an attempt to make noise. I then grabbed the remote control of our television to turn up the volume of the blaring party music while my husband ran outside to start the engine of our car. Neighbors outside were frantically banging their pots and pans except for a few who lit firecrackers. We all yelled “Happy new year!” at the top of our lungs until the fanfare died down a little over the first hour of 2026.

There’s something comforting about the chaos of that moment. It’s loud, unpolished, and almost predictable. The same noises echo every year, the same laughter spills into the streets, and the same hopeful energy hangs in the air. For a brief moment, everyone seems united by noise and excitement, regardless of how the year treated us. It doesn’t matter if the previous months were kind or cruel; at midnight, we all get a chance to start again.

It’s quite unclear how these traditions came to be. When I was growing up, I loved doing all these with my family who also did the same thing. I didn’t question why we had to jump or why coins had to be thrown around the house. I just knew that we had to do them. Perhaps that’s the beauty of traditions—they don’t always need logic or explanation. They simply exist, passed on from one generation to the next, quietly demanding participation. Did I mention I also made a prosperity bowl? Minus the bay leaves and the rolled money, I did sure feel like our tradition was correct.

Traditions excite me even if we’re unsure about its outcome ever becoming true. I’m positive I did the same for the previous year but it didn’t really give me the best. Despite this, I found myself doing it again, hoping that maybe this time would be different. Whatever our reason is, traditions have also become part of culture, which gives us our identity. They are small acts of faith, subtle reminders that we still believe in possibilities, no matter how many times we have been disappointed.

For some of our family members outside the country, their traditions are also different. In other parts of the globe, New Year’s Eve is a big party over a bottle of champagne and a ball drop. There are no coins on the floor or car engines roaring at midnight. Yet the intention remains the same. It may be the same festive feeling with different actions, but we’re all in unison as we flip another page in our calendar. This time, it’s for a new year. And with it comes another chance to hope, to believe, and to hold on to traditions, no matter how strange or loud they may seem.