Family, feasting and festivities: celebrating Christmas across two cultures

While it’s my favourite time of the year, this Christmas will be different as my year abroad in Madrid will be the first time I spend Christmas away from home. My mum is from Bilbao, so Spanish Christmas traditions have been a big part of my upbringing and have formed my love for the season. For me, Christmas revolves around family: extended uncles, aunties, cousins, grandparents, neighbours, and pets. Whoever you name will probably be turning up for the holiday season. My home in central London has been the Drake-Perello hotspot for Christmas celebrations. A four-bedroom home can accommodate at least ten people if you’re willing to fill the floor, sofa and beds with cousins. Even at age twenty, I’ll most likely give up my bed to a proper ‘adult’ and curl up on the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if, in twenty years’ time, I end up sleeping on the floor when visiting my parents for Christmas. Despite the years of backache and shivering, I would not change it for the world, and it is why my cousins remain my closest friends: shared trauma.

My dad would take to the kitchen and have his time to shine, for I have yet to have a roast dinner that beats his

Spanish Christmas celebrations begin on Christmas Eve and last until January 6 or the Epiphany. On Christmas Eve, we spend the day cooking and preparing for evening celebrations. This is my favourite part of Christmas. I would be designated duties by my auntie, singing and dancing to our favourite Christmas tunes amidst the chaos that is the kitchen, guessing which of dad’s classic stories he’ll be telling over dinner for the seventeenth time, all while trying to roll my mum’s infamous croquetas into the perfect oval shape. Once dinner is ready, we all get glammed up and sit together to eat and sing carols with plenty of laughter. The dinner is always a banquet of deliciousness, including an array of seafood, meats, vegetables, gazpacho, and plenty of sweet treats like turrón, polvorones, fruit, an enormous doughnut-shaped cake called Roscón de Reyes, and another of my mum’s specialities, tarta de manzana.

Christmas Day is much more relaxed after a night of feasting. We will open our presents in the morning, attend Mass, and sit down for another Christmas dinner. This dinner is like the ones you are probably used to. My dad would take to the kitchen and have his time to shine, for I have yet to have a roast dinner that beats his. The period between Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve is a chance to recover from the previous festivities. We would head to central London to catch a West End show and visit the markets and stunning decorations. This relaxation is brief because New Year’s Eve and Day are jam-packed with more fun and family. My uncle’s annual New Year’s Eve party usually hosts up to 75 distant family members squeezed into his home in West London. My auntie is Filipino, so we celebrate together in an extravagant mixture of cultures. The celebration features a wide array of Filipino and Spanish dishes, tinikling (a traditional dance), hilarious games by my cousins, and the classic midnight munching of twelve grapes (my uncle is banned from organising this because of one fateful year when he accidentally bought seeded grapes – it was a disaster). We also have a Mario Kart marathon where we all pile up on the sofa to battle for the champion title. I love my family dearly, but those Mario Kart championships are a matter of life and death. I will most likely be crammed between someone’s legs and have someone’s armpit hovering above me. Sometimes, I lose my voice the next day from hurling abuse at my poor six-year-old cousin who pushed me off the Rainbow Road for the fourth time – it’s always the younger ones you need to keep an eye on. Their tiny fingers are chubby but fast.

We celebrate Christmas five times, each with even more people, laughter and food

Traditionally, New Year’s Day is celebrated back at my house. We borrow foldable tables from the local church and, thanks to my open-plan living room, lay them out for another enormous meal. Anyone deemed an irresponsible adult (including my older brother, who is engaged and moved out four years ago) is placed at the end of the table with the rest of the children on whichever chair or wobbly stall we’ve found in the shed. A final tradition for New Year’s Day is an enormous cake prepared lovingly by my mum, which varies in flavour and decoration but is always delicious. As the last guest leaves just after midnight, with at least two boxes of the previously mentioned famous croquetas, we end the night with a game of Uno or simply sitting and sharing stories.

On January 5, we place our slippers in the living room and set out three glasses of wine along with snacks for the Three Wise Men to enjoy, hoping for small gifts and treats in return. By then, the extended family has returned home, so celebrating the Epiphany is much more relaxed but just as wonderful. Technically, we celebrate Christmas five times, each with even more people, laughter and food. I truly adore Christmas time and will miss our usual preparations and decorating this year. However, I am excited to explore what Madrid offers. From parades to music festivals, I am certain I will find different and wonderful ways to celebrate Christmas and create new memories and traditions.