Cosmopolitan Christmases
[dropcap]S[/dropcap]ix writers explore Christmas in different countries, their unique traditions, and what makes them special.
Dubai
Extravagance and excess are the key elements in any Dubai Christmas celebration; six hours of eating and drinking in one of the many luxurious hotels is a must and Santa Claus arriving on a dhow is standard practice in the city which has the eternal aim to out do every other city in the world. Of course, one could also take a stroll on the beach in the morning and end their day looking up at the stars wearing little more than a bikini, and why not, it’s 24 degrees after all.
There may not be snow or Christmas carols following you everywhere, but there is certainly Christmas spirit as the shopping malls try to surpass each other in who can drag in and decorate the largest tree to please the punters and hang giant cardboard baubles and glittering snowflakes from the ceilings. But if you miss the snow and the cold, there’s always England.
Emily Ward
Rome
Imagine a stereotypical Christmas: extravagantly-decorated Christmas tree, streams of presents spilling out from underneath, twinkling lights and Christmas music surrounding you. Now imagine that, but with the Colosseum as your backdrop.
Photo: Valentina_A / Flickr
Rome is beautiful at the best of times, but at Christmas it has a magical, ethereal quality about it. There are Christmas markets everywhere you look, beautiful lights adorning every street. When we arrived, the apartment had been decked out in complete Christmas attire, and I was in full-on excited-child Christmas spirit.
In Italy, children do not expect Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, but Befana, a witch, so instead of hanging out stocking, they hang out a broomstick-shaped sack. On Christmas day, I woke up to find my parents had given me one of these filled with lumps of sugar-coal.
To top off the Italian Christmas, we had pizza for lunch in a little pizzeria with red and white chequered tablecloths on a backstreet of Rome, which we stumbled across while trying to find shelter from the rain.
Samantha Hopps
China
The song “Frosty the Snowman” still gives me nightmares. The hotel had a total of ten songs it played on repeat every day from the start of December until just past Christmas, including this creepy children’s choir rendition of Frosty.
The exception was the Christmas tree lighting evening, when the local international school choir came and sang Christmas songs for an hour instead before the giant tree in the lobby was lit. It wasn’t an actual tree – those supposedly bring bad luck – but a plastic replica decked with lights and baubles the size of a small child’s head that reached well past the first floor. Hyatt and Sheraton had one too, along with a log cake that went all the way around it.
Outside you wouldn’t realize it’s almost Christmas. Only the big western chains like Starbucks had put up decorations, and even then it might just be so they could sell you their Christmas drinks. The local stores had already started cautiously putting things out for Chinese New Year, and the big Christmas tree, too, will be gone the day after Boxing Day to make space for the red lanterns.
It’s not a holiday here: most people are still at school, or at work.
Maaike Spiekerman
Eindhoven
Christmas in the Netherlands is a quiet affair. The real fun begins on December 5 with the Dutch holiday event known as Sinterklaas.
Sinterklaas or ‘Saint Nicholas’ wears a red gown embroidered with gold and a red pointed hat with a cross. In his hand he carries a long shepherd’s staff. Instead of a sleigh and reindeer, Sinterklaas rides his white horse, Amerigo, through the streets of the Netherlands. He lives in Spain and travels to the Netherlands on his steam ship, all of which is covered live by ‘Sinterklaas journaal’, a daily news channel dedicated to the event.
Photo: Alexey Kljatov / Flickr
Instead of Elves Sint has his mischievous helpers, the ‘Zwarte Pieten’ to carry sacks of sweets. If Sinterklaas’ book reveals that a child has not behaved well, Zwarte Piet is allowed to carry the children off in his sack. Zwarte Piet translates as ‘Black Pete’ and they are the subject of an ongoing debate in the Netherlands. Many think that the people who paint their faces black and wear thick black curly wigs to be Zwarte Piet are continuing a racist tradition from years ago when slaves used to help Sint.
Personally, I agree and was quite shocked at my first Sinterklaas at the sight of these brightly clad figures who throw sweets into classrooms. However, many of the Dutch fiercely defend this tradition and the children love to sing songs for the Zwarte Pieten and receive their ‘Pepernoten’ and ‘Speculaas’.
On December 4th, Dutch children leave their shoe at the door to be filled with goods from Sinterklaas, and sometimes a carrot for Amerigo. If you happen to visit the Netherlands, I recommend trying some of the delicious Pepernoten biscuits and getting involved with the Sinterklaas festivities which are just as anticipated as Christmas is in England.
April Roach
Venice
There comes a point when the endless stream of DFS sales, Dr Who hype, and screaming ex-singers from ‘Atomic Kitten’ shaking the finest and cheapest turkeys becomes slightly overbearing. When you reach that stage of bitterness against the British Christmas, it might be time to broaden your horizons and travel somewhere a bit more…subtle.
Venice is the embodiment of chic, the urban equivalent of the tux-adorned romancer, clenching a scented Calvin Klein rose between his teeth. After staying there around the Christmas period several years ago, it dawned on me that for Venetians, the holiday is less about gorging upon mince pies with cracker residue embedded in your hair, but instead maintaining an aura of normality.
Inevitably, festive lights were a ubiquitous sighting and crowds gathered around festive market stalls but as soon as you arrive, it becomes apparent that there is a reliance on understatement. The subtler approach to Christmas brings Venice much closer to the old cliché people associate with the festive season, with hummed carols floating through the air and flecks of snow when I arrived.
San Marco Square, the city’s hub, is oddly filled mainly with locals in contrast to the city’s summer, creating that sense of the everyday. Gondolas continue to flow and the atmosphere is altogether more restrained, which may be connected to the country’s greater religious emphasis on the festival.
Venice represents a quieter alternative that I would thoroughly recommend, as it finds the balance between festivity and relaxation, shrugging off the wave of consumerist insanity that seems to envelop Britain every year.
Why settle for a mince pie and custard when you can delight in Venetian tiramisu or fresh gelato? Give it a thought.
Jack Prevezer
New Years’ fireworks in London
Watching the London fireworks at midnight on New Years’ Eve has been a family tradition years, so I was pretty excited about going to London to see them live for the first time. It takes dedication to get a riverbank position; the police prohibit access from 9pm.
Photo: Chris Chabot / Flickr
We arrived at 7pm and claimed a spot by picnicking on it, but the people by the railings had arrived hours ago. We were only a few feet behind them, where the pavement met the road, directly opposite the London Eye. We saw camera men cruising downriver and reporters doing interviews, and one guy who had climbed a tree and refused to come down.
Once the gates closed, the partying began. Music and a live DJ blasted over the speakers, and everyone was dancing. As it got darker and colder, people started to flag, but most people perked up as midnight approached.
On TV, there’s always a moment when the fireworks are so bright the whole screen turns white. That happens in real life too. The display is incredible close-up, and seeing it onscreen doesn’t compare to the sensual onslaught of the real experience. There’s so much smoke and noise, and the electric atmosphere coupled with your own gratified anticipation makes the whole thing pretty euphoric. I’ve been back every year to date.
Hannah Froggatt
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