Holiday Traditions

Ah, Christmas morning! You east coast Americans are probably just now being nudged awake by your children, eager to see what Santa has left under the tree (your children are eager, that is, not you). Here in Sussex, morning is nearly over. We've been up, opened our gifts, had our Traditional Christmas Breakfast of Eggs Benedict, completed as much preparation for the upcoming Traditional Big Meal as possible without actually cooking and eating it and are now experiencing the Traditional Downtime that comes between one flurry of activity and another.

This year, it is our turn to host the Traditional Christmas Dinner, so the in-laws will be dropping in shortly. In the mean time, I'm on the balcony, continuing my own Christmas Tradition of a not-so-wee dram of 18-year-old highland single malt and Honduran cigar. It's just 33 degrees (Fahrenheit) but the morning air is still, sombre and silent; as long as I'm wearing my fingerless gloves and the comical, woolly hat I bought in Prague last winter, I'm perfectly comfortable. Strange to look at, perhaps, but comfortable nonetheless.

We had a Traditional Night Out At The Pub after work this past Friday, followed by the Traditional Heaving Up In The Bushes (which is a tradition I sheepishly swear off each year in the Traditional New Year's Resolutions but which manages to surface with the help of the Traditional Forgetting About the New Year's Resolutions in February).

Along more family-oriented lines, our Indian neighbors had a Traditional Visit From Father Christmas last night. We were watching the Traditional Crappy Christmas Eve Programming ("100 Best Movie Moments," and shit like that) when, well, out on the lawn there arose such a clatter we peeked out the windows to see what was the matter. And there was Father Christmas (aka Santa Clause, aka St. Nicholas) leading a troop of children and adults into the nearby apartment block.

Our Indian neighbors (note to American readers, these are people from India, not members of the Wampanoag Nation) have a fair number of small children and they were just as excited about seeing Santa as I was at their age. It came as a surprise to many (myself included) that this little community adheres to Christian theology. Coming from the Subcontinent, one would naturally assume them to be Hindu, or Muslim, or terrorists (we can thank the BNP for that). But this collection of families came together to celebrate Christmas in the most traditional western method—with a visit from Santa Clause and a festive party, included singing carols in Urdu accompanied by tambourines.

Mulling over our Christmas Traditions (as well as a second double of Highland single malt) has brought to mind a conversation with a Hindu friend this past Diwali. To celebrate the Festival of Lights, a selection of Hindu delicacies was put out in our office for sampling and to broaden our collective perceptions. My colleague explained to me the significance of the festival and its roots in antiquity. It basically involves a battle of the gods and the eventual triumph of Lord Krishna over the evil god Narakasura. I was about to ask if, in these modern times, she actually believed in something so medieval when my knowledge of the Bible wisely caused me to stop.

Think about it. First there's nothing. God gets lonely and – BING! – a universe. Now add some animals, a man, a woman and a bad serpent. And let's throw in a virgin birth and some rising from the dead for good measure. Is that any less fantastic than a battle between Krishna and Narakaura?

(It's a rhetorical question; don't sweat it.)

One of the reasons I really like living here is the ability of the Brits to take the piss out of themselves and to not be afraid of shedding harsh light on absurdity. On one of the shows we watched last night (for you Americans, it's a show called – honest – "Never Mind The Buzzcocks" and I could not possibly explain it to you) the host signed off this with sentiment:

"Remember, no matter what religion you are – Christian, Jewish, Muslin – only one of you can be right, so start a war."

This was said for the shock/humor value, but the absurdity of it serves to illuminate our own real-life absurdity: there are many beliefs, opinions and traditions; we do not have to share them all, but we have only one world, and we do need to share that.

Let's start a new Christmas Tradition and try to get along, shall we?

God – as you perceive him/her to be/not to be – bless and Merry – whatever holiday you are/are not celebrating, even if it's not -- Christmas.