Christmas Blahs; or, Finding Our Celebration

I have a blue Christmas without you. 

Elvis Presley

. . . when you move from one country to another 

you have to accept that there are some things 

that are better and some things worse, 

and there is nothing you can do about it.

Bill Bryson

Feliz Navidad

Prospero Año y Felicidad.

José Feliciano

Here we are, the beginning of a new year (and decade) and while my U.S. friends have packed up the Christmas decorations, taken down the tree, and are moving on through the new year, we are just finishing Christmas in Spain. Tonight the Three Kings visit kids and bring them toys. 

This was just one of many things new I've had to learn while living in Spain. I think if you are Catholic, the transition from American to American-living-in-Spain would be a much, much easier adjustment. Spain is a very Catholic country down to its core, with secular and religious holidays running together, and Spaniards tend to get each off of work. This means a lot of days with closed shops, parades usually involving a saint, Jesus, and/or Mary, and a band with horns playing. . . "The Final Countdown." 

I'm not kidding. Every parade has horns blaring that 1980s anthem from the one-hit wonder, Europe. Just in case you forgot, it's right here. 

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So parades and saints and other new things aside, we still celebrate Christmas in many ways as we always have. We have a low key day eating breakfast together, opening presents, and usually we all go to our own little areas to enjoy what we have. For me, it's usually curling up with a new book and with a dog at my feet. 

But living here, it's been really, really difficult getting into the Christmas spirit. 

To be honest, having grown(ish) kids is a little sad. No more trips to toy stores, no more sneaking gifts out on Christmas Eve. 

A really big part of it is I have been sick with a miserable cold for every Christmas we've been here. 

There is also remembering grandparents and other family members we spent our Christmases with as children. 

There's knowing our families are all together and we are missing them on Christmas day probably more than any other day of the year. And being on a different time zone, it's the challenge of even getting a phone call in to the family back home. 

This is what it's like to live away from family for more than half my life, and it's even worse now that we live on what seems like the other side of the world. 

I'm not fishing for pity. I made a choice to move away and knew that it would sometimes be tough. But Christmas can be a really sad time of year for this reason. 

Pile on top of that the lack of Santa and good old traditional Christmas music, and I get a real case of the blahs this time of year. 

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In Cuba (and all stories seem to go back to our time in Cuba), I met an amazing group of ladies that loved adventure-seeking on our little piece of the island. Sometimes we would do pottery together or go out on the Bay together. One of the group, Beth, lives in Germany now. When she messaged me about visiting her and her husband and seeing the famous German Christmas markets, it was a big resounding YES from me. 

I spent three days in the Wiesbaden area, with some side trips to Rüdesheim and Cologne (Köln). I didn't know what to expect. 

I definitely didn't think that a quick trip to Germany would help get me out of my Christmas funk.

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Maybe it was the liters of glühwein (mulled wine), or maybe it was the many Christmas decorations. There were wooden toys, handmade scarves, ornaments, decorations. Everywhere you go is a full assault to the senses---colorful stalls, blinking lights. The smell of hot wine (yum) and the smell of fondue cheese (ugh). Toys that spin and click and clack. People shoving their way through shoulder-to-shoulder foot traffic. It's the Gothic cathedral in the background in Cologne, the careful footsteps on cobblestone streets. There's familiar music and the crisp weather (okay, it was cold and wet). 

Whatever the combination of factors, I found myself enjoying Christmas shopping and really getting into the holiday spirit just by walking around the various shops and stalls. I can't explain what happened, but a few days in Germany really pulled me out of my funk and made me look forward to Christmas, even if it's a tad different back in Spain. 

As I was boarding the plane back home, I ran into an acquaintance I've known for a couple of years. We were chatting about where we had been, and he bemoaned the fact that he had to go back to Spain. "Germans really do Christmas. It just doesn't feel like it in Spain." 

Yes, true--Germans know how to do Christmas. 

But I wasn't sad about coming back--not only did I get a great visit reconnecting with friends I haven't seen in a while, but I was excited to tell my family about the sights, smells, and sounds that are the German Christmas Markets. 

Various sights of the markets-click for a better view

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Back in Spain, we do have a large Christmas tree in the middle of town.  I don't think any families except the Americans in my neighborhood have them in their homes. We are the only people on our street with a wreath on our house. Christmas morning, our Spanish neighbors may open a present or two---today more and more kids get a visit from Santa on the 25th than in the past, although their main time to receive gifts is still Three Kings Day. 

The lights display are beautiful this time of year. I do love that tradition in all the towns we have visited. 

We also have beautiful nativity scenes decorating many shop windows. Christmas is, after all, still first and foremost a religious holiday in Spain. 

 

Instead of Santa, houses in our neighborhood have the Three Kings climbing up a rope into a window or onto a balcony. 

And don't forget the Roscón--the King's Cake. There's no baby inside like a Mardi Gras cake--instead, you will get a tiny statue of one of the three kings. 

I think I have figured out why I've been less-than-enthusiastic at Christmas here---we haven't found a new routine. We are still figuring it out. In Cuba, it was easy. We celebrated the day with gifts and then a trip to the beach. For Christmas dinner, we always had fresh lobster caught from the Bay. 

I'm still seeking something to make a Spanish Christmas its own thing, with new routines to make it its own special holiday. 

one of the kings. Yes, he's wearing blackface. 😲

So tonight, while we were watching the three kings wave at kids, throwing soccer balls, small toys, and candy all while winding their way through town on floats pulled by tractors, "The Final Countdown" blaring ahead, I once again said a little thanks for living where I can enjoy new traditions as well as old ones. 

I hope our kids will incorporate some of Spain's culture into their own family traditions. Or maybe they will come up with their own new ways to celebrate the season. After all, there is no telling where each of my sons will end up (and if they will be rooted to one place or wanderers instead). 

That's the beauty of living in this world---you can take the best of what you know, mix it with new, and create your own ways to find joy during the Christmas season.