In the past, the holidays coming and going while out on my own didn't really bother me that much. Perhaps it was because I still had some solid Christmas traditions (albeit not my own) to act as an anchor for my Christmas spirit. In 2002, while traveling around Europe with Tina and Adam, we spent the week of Christmas in Niort, France, with the Mamerts, Tina's former host family from the year of high school she studied abroad. Having a family with which to spend the holiday, as well as two of my best friends, while also experiencing the holiday traditions of a foreign culture, made the fact that I wasn't at home not only tolerable but exciting. Despite the language barrier and the need for Tina to translate everything Adam or I wanted to say to the family, and vice versa, it felt homey and cozy and, well, like Christmas. Just a different version of it. The three girls, Vanessa, Emilie, and Marion, included us in all their celebrations, and their parents, Alain and Francoise, treated us like their own children, which I came to fully appreciate after the oysters (yes, oysters) at Christmas dinner gave me horrendous food poisoning and I spent the 3 days immediately following in bed puking my guts out. Even still, in spite of the vomitorious conclusion of the holiday, it was great to have a break in our travels and spend the morning around a Christmas tree and eat a legit, crazy huge Christmas dinner, and even get some presents (Alain and Francoise gave us each a pair of our own house slippers). Christmas simply felt like French Christmas.
2005 saw a very similar outcome to 2002, despite the fact that I had been steeling myself for the most depressing Christmas of all time. While working in London, I shared a flat with a couple from Turkey, who were secular Muslims and thus obviously did not celebrate Christmas. My two best friends in the UK were going home to their families, leaving me alone in London, prepared to watch the day simply pass by like any other. With only a few days left until the holiday, I described this tragic turn of events to Chris, a new friend who was a regular at the pub I worked at 3 nights a week. Fortunately for me, Chris was borderline in love with me at that point and presumably thought it would help win me over if he invited me to his family's home in Birmingham for the holidays. I accepted the offer and found myself in a beautiful home in the snowy suburb of Sutton Coldfield, with an awesome tree, a lovely English family, and the most incredible Christmas dinner I've ever had in my life. We're talking the roast to end all roasts here, topped off with copious amounts of wine and actual Christmas pudding (the British kind of pudding). It was the only time in history that I was so stuffed after dinner that I actually took a nap. To make the holiday even better, my mom had decided to send me a box of individually wrapped Christmas presents that year, so while Chris' family was opening gifts on Christmas morning, I had my own little treasure trove to unwrap. I remember the bemusement with which the family regarded this entire production, and like in France, it struck me how nice it was to spend Christmas with a family and experience the traditions of another foreign culture. Christmas simply felt like English Christmas.
The following year took the award for the most unusual Christmas I've ever had. It was just so completely different that it reached the point of being kind of OK with me. In 2006, I was living in Queenstown, New Zealand, which of course meant that Christmas fell during the height of summer. Already totally bizarre. Summer is also the high tourist season in Queenstown, and since I worked at what amounted to a giant tourist trap of a restaurant, Christmas was by far our single busiest day of the entire year. Initially, I was appalled at the idea of working on Christmas Day, especially for 14 straight hours, until two things hit me: 1) I was earning time and a half + a day in lieu for those 14 hours and 2) all but one of my friends and co-workers were being forced to do the exact same thing I was. In a place like Queenstown, and especially at a company like Skyline, your co-workers are your best friends, and your friends are basically your New Zealand family.
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| Our Skyline family snuggling in front of the Christmas tree. |
But this year. This year has been different in a weird way. Maybe it is just that it has been a few years since my last Christmas away from home. Or maybe it is that I am older now and have gained a different perspective on things. But Christmas this year just feels wrong. In New Zealand, the fact that it was summer made it feel so unlike Christmas to begin with that it was easy to absorb the other differences. Not in Korea. It is winter and freezing cold, which makes it feel like the holidays should be coming. Many Koreans are Christians, which gives the impression that there should be a significant level of celebration. There are randomly/strategically placed Christmas decorations and even the occasional Christmas tree scattered around Gimpo and Seoul, and yet... there is no build-up. There is no discussion of the holiday. There is no excitement. Maybe I'm simply reacting to the disconcerting unfamiliarity with a country that has managed to not, as of yet, completely commercialize what is supposed to be a religious holiday. But damn it, I am a product of my upbringing, and I am used to a commercialized Christmas!! I am used to hearing Christmas music absolutely everywhere, and seeing Christmas-related advertisements every time I turn around, and catching Christmas movies on endless loops on various TV channels.
In the past, I never missed my own traditions... I think I liked to believe that I was too cosmopolitan for something as silly as wanting to hold on to traditions, when in reality I was probably just absorbing the slightly different traditions of the cultures I was in, especially since they were all Western cultures rooted in Judeo-Christian heritage. Here, traditions just simply aren't. There is no real indication that Christmas matters. Sure, it's a national holiday, but being on a Saturday this year, it's not like we get any time off work for it. I am working until 4.30 on Christmas Eve just like any other Friday, and I'm sure that tomorrow I'll find every store and bar and coffee shop open just like any other Saturday. As a person who is not religious, it is odd to admit to myself that Christmas matters to me so much, but it really does mean so much more than its origins, as it is something that's so important to our culture as Americans, and even as Westerners, and so relevant to our families, often serving as the one time of year various family members are guaranteed to reconnect and spend real time together. I think I always underestimated Christmas and my feelings toward it, but I find myself now wanting my traditions, wanting my family, wanting the commercialized build-up across December and everything that goes with that. Who woulda thought?
Maybe it's a sign of growing up, when the connections to your childhood and your background and your family really start to matter, internally. I don't know. All I'm sure of is that this year, Christmas simply doesn't feel like Christmas. And I actually care.
As you are every day, you were very present in our hearts this Christmas season. Never being more than a heartbeat away. We certainly missed you and can't wait to celebrate you coming home soon.
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