If you think enough about them, holidays are kind of weird.
A random day picked during the year, to celebrate a random thing (that you may
or may not realize you’re celebrating). Now, I don’t mean to offend anyone by
saying that Christians celebrating Christmas is “random” or Muslims celebrating
L-Eid El Fitur is “random.” Not at all. To an outsider, though, they’re kind of
strange. But, nonetheless, to the people celebrating them, they matter. A lot.
A couple days ago, I was teaching an English class on
phonetics, and we were practicing the various sounds in the English language.
While going over the “th” sound and the “wr” sound, the word wreath came up. My student asked me to
explain what a wreath was, which I dutifully did, using the context of
Christmas to explain. The response I got was a facial expression that was
either a look of judgment, or continuing confusion. To be honest, it was
probably a bit of both. “You guy’s bring bushes inside for Christmas too don’t
you?” On one hand, this was a great opportunity to teach the word tree, on the other hand, I could do
nothing but smile a little and think “Yes. Yes we do bring trees inside.” It
may be weird, but it’s our tradition, so I’ll take it as a teachable cultural
exchange moment and call it a day.
But if you ask anyone what their favorite part of Christmas
is, or whatever holiday it is they celebrate, it will probably come back to the
same thing: celebrating that holiday with people who also are celebrating.
Maybe your favorite part is the feeling of Christmas spirit. But who is making
that feeling? The people around you. Maybe your favorite part is running
downstairs on Christmas morning to a tree filled with presents and the smell of
fresh cinnamon rolls in the oven. But what made that? The people who put the
presents under the tree and the cinnamon rolls in the oven. I’m going to stop
writing bad examples, because I think you get my point. Having people to
celebrate with makes the holiday what it is, and is also what makes being away
from home during the holiday’s the hardest thing.
However, I think the most important thing I’ve learned about
holidays from being 5,500 miles away for them is this: They’re whatever I make
them to be.
For Thanksgiving, our amazing Country Director here in
Morocco organized a giant Thanksgiving feast for all of us Peace Corps Morocco Volunteers.
Now while missing out on being around my family was one of the most difficult
times I’ve had since arriving in Morocco 11 months ago, it was also, in a way,
one of the best (or at least coolest) Thanksgiving’s I’ve ever had. This
Thanksgiving was the most genuine celebration of what Thanksgiving is all about
I’ve ever had. It was a testament to what it means to come together with those
around you and simply enjoy seeing what life has brought you. We all brought
something to contribute, we sat outside under palm trees, and I ate couscous
with my Thanksgiving dinner. There were almost 200 of us there for the meal,
and it provided a chance to see other volunteers I hadn’t seen in over six
months, and in some cases, meet volunteers I didn’t know previously. Maybe I
wasn’t home with my mom and dad and sister, but I was still with a family. I
have chosen to make for myself a family of Peace Corps Volunteers while I am
here, and I have no problem saying I ate my Thanksgiving meal with family.
Instead of being miserable because I wasn’t back in Washington, I took my
current situation, and made a great holiday out of it. And I loved it.
Christmas is no different. Alright, it’ll be a little
different. My parents are flying to Morocco, so I will get to see them for
Christmas (can I get a Humdullah!?). But they also aren’t arriving until the
day after Christmas, and I don’t care. Christmas for me is going to be whenever
my parents and I are finally reunited, and decide to celebrate it. The fact
that Christmas is on the 25th of December every year (yes Greg, the
25th, every year), is entirely arbitrary. Especially if you consider
that Jesus was born in the spring-time and the Church moved Christmas to
December to make it more likely the pagans would take part, but I digress.
The point is this: the 25th is nothing more than
another day of the year. Christmas is about coming together with people, maybe
exchanging some gifts if you want, and enjoying traditions that will always
bring a smile to your face. Whether you do this on the 25th, the 26th,
or August 6th, who cares? It’s the action that matters. Christmas
has always been one of my favorite times of the year. Setting up the Christmas
tree one night with the whole family, and later sitting staring at it with a
cup of hot cocoa. Rearranging the nativity scene every few days because let’s
be honest, nobody really knows what the setup was that night. Or decorating
about a hundred cookies because mom still didn’t listen to me and my sister
telling her to “please… just please don’t make a double batch this year.” This
is what matters to me on Christmas – following traditions, being with people
that matter to me, sharing memories and experiences. And correct me if I’m
wrong, but I don’t think it needs to be the 25th for me to do that.
I may not be in a predominately Christian country this year
for Christmas, where Christmas spirit is all around whether you look for it or
not, but that didn’t stop me from making my own spirit. I spent an afternoon
(alright, it was really like, 45 minutes, but go with it), making my own
Christmas tree out of cardboard. I made snowflakes and paper chains to hang
around my house. And I stuck a bow on my front door, just to make me smile
every time I enter or exit my apartment. And I love all of it. If you don’t
believe me, ask the various friends and family that I keep Skyping excitedly
just to show off my latest decoration I’ve hung up. I made my own Christmas spirit because I
wanted to, and I’m making this holiday what I want it to be. And when I
celebrate Christmas morning on the night of the 26th, or mid-day on
the 27th, it will be glorious.
Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays, from Morocco!!
