This is the second Christmas I celebrated in China. My family doesn’t really celebrate Christmas seriously back in the states; we’re all atheist, so Christmas assumes a cultural role more than a religious one. We *might* set up a Christmas tree that doesn’t come down until March. That’s the extent of our Christmas traditions.
My homestay family does not celebrate Christmas to the same extent. Besides a cheery acknowledgment of my “Merry Christmas!” greeting, the day passed by like any other. Shops are keener to take on Christmas than any family. There are light Christmas decorations sprinkled throughout malls, bakeries advertise cute, seasonal snowman cakes and Santa Klaus breads, and two-for-the-price-of-one snow globes twinkle and wink at shoppers.
In Kunming, there was a tradition for townspeople to spray one another with fake snow and hold spontaneous rubber hammer fights on Christmas Eve. A few years ago the police cracked down on fake snow and rubber hammers. The streets were quiet yesterday.
My classmates and I prepared a Christmas Eve dinner together. It was the best Christmas dinner I had. Flaky spring onion pancakes, washed down with rich pumpkin stew. Roasted chicken and vegetables, baked mac & cheese, and veggie lasagna. There was also a Salvadorian corn flour pancake with cheese tucked into its belly, enjoyed with tomato sauce, that I forgot the name of. I and my stomach were impressed with the spread of Christmas foods. It was a little slice of home. Side note: I wanted to contribute sugar cookies but forgot to thaw the butter from the freezer. So no sugar cookies. Womp-womp.
We exchanged Secret Santa gifts — I bought antlers hair pins, a snow globe, and made a Christmas collage card for Jesse. I snipped the Christmas-themed images from a noodle shop advertisement. The white rabbit candy wrappers … I bet you can guess who ate the candies!
My original intention with the collage was to capture the feeling of celebrating Christmas away from home. Chinese Christmas, while retaining a lot of the same jolly symbols, is set in a separate cultural backdrop that shapes Western customs into something unique. When I finished, I looked at the haphazard clutter of images and felt like I was beginning to understand something.
This gap year is the first time I’ve been away from my family. I find myself clinging, proudly and tightly, to reminders of home. Pizza, for one. Christmas, for another. The irony is that I don’t even like pizza that much. I’d eat it if it was the only thing available during lunch at a Saturday quiz bowl tournament, but never from my own initiative. I never liked Christmas that much either. Past the beautiful Christmas lights and Christmas trees is the ugly shadow of Christmas consumerism. But I still find myself craving pizza, celebrating Christmas to a fault.
In new places, the familiar is comforting. Maybe pizza and Christmas are a part of my identity. Maybe I am more American than I thought. Lingering thoughts.
Not to make you think my Christmas was heavy. Well the food was heavy, but my mood was definitely not. Ben gave me the squishiest avocado pillow, a cute plushie, and a light pink scarf. I watched my first ever Star Wars movie, in an empty theatre at midnight. I called Fred. I stayed up until 4:30 in the morning, giggling and playing cards with Ben and Jesus. The holiday season always has a way of making me feel light, excited, and wistful.