Of Mirth and Merriment

I remember once having a conversation with a tourism expert from New Zealand or Aus who said that South African tourism differs from tourism in many places because South Africans still tend to go away on family holidays. It was the first time it had occurred to me that the South African traditional holiday-time rituals of spending lots of time with the family, at the beach or a resort or around the braai, might be unusual. I still can’t really imagine a world in which people don’t do family holidays. And family Christmases are probably the best example. Which, of course, makes a Christmas 10 000 km from home, half-a-world-distant and in the wrong hemisphere, a strange and chilly experience. I am lucky to be in a country that does do Christmas, at least to some extent, so I haven’t felt it as much as, say, Richard who spent Christmas in Sudan, but I have still been very aware of the differences and the things – most prominent being sunshine and family – that I’m missing.

Luckily, I had some lovely friends, along with plenty of tinsel and presents, to make more bearable. I spent Christmas Eve alone, partly because I was working until nearly 11pm – a completely foreign and rather objectionable experience for me! – and partly because it was the best way to align the timezones so that I could talk to my family back home. Of all the merriment and gifts of Christmas, I think the opportunity to talk to my parents and siblings in Stutt, just before they sat down to dinner on Christmas Eve, was probably the best present of all. It was accompanied by the gifts from them that arrived in the post a week or so before – all of which were lovely and South African and made me very happy.

Christmas day was spent quietly pottering around the house, opening the last couple of presents and watching Christmas episodes of QI (who wouldn’t?), at least until the early evening, when I set off for Christmas dinner. Maeve Binchy talks in one of her books about the idea of a group of ‘chick-less hens’ celebrating Mother’s Day together because they don’t have families with whom to celebrate. This was a little like that – a group of foreigners, orphaned by distance this Christmas time, gathering to share an evening of determined delightfulness and merriment. Our excellent culinary champion tried hard to ensure that there was something familiar for each of us, which resulted in a slightly unorthodox mixture of foods but made for a great dinner, nonetheless. Of course there was no roast – as there would have been at home (and was this year without me) – because the facilities required to roast things (i.e. proper ovens) don’t exist in most of our flats  We did however have (a lot of) pasta salad, green salad, beef-a-roni, rice-and-beans, chicken, beef strips, biscuits (of the American type – thanks to KFC), humus, salami, a variety of cheeses (yay!) and several other bits and pieces. I added some biltong to the selection because I felt there needed to be something from South African. To drink, there was, along with soju, makju and ridiculously expensive spirits, mulled wine, which was lovely and hot and familiar. The pièce de résistance was the Yorkshire pudding which our excellent culinary champion managed in a toaster oven and which cooked pretty much perfectly, once the oven was plugged in – although those of us closest to British heritage were made a little uneasy about the suggestion that it should be eaten with syrup and sugar. There was also a beautiful Christmas cake, complete with Christmas penguins.

Along with the delightful meal, there were Christmas decorations, Christmas attire, an actual tree and – because, as I said, I have lovely friends – stockings for everyone. When we arrived the stockings were beautifully hung along a gas pipe near the ceiling, adding even more Christmas-ness to an already festive apartment. The evening involved much merriment and friendship and an hilarious game of Charades.

Eventually we said our goodbyes and ventured out into the freezing cold of a Northern Hemisphere Christmas night and home to bed, another Christmas celebration come and gone. I have missed home and sunshine and a thousand little traditions, like decorating the tree with my siblings and singing carols, my Mom’s amazing Christmas dinner and sharing good wine with my Dad, but I’m glad I wasn’t all alone in a foreign country, and I’m particularly thankful for the ability to talk to loved ones far away and for friends with whom to create together our own little Christmas in a far-off Asian land.

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