Ornamental Reflections

 I will be the first to admit that I'm an inherently nosy person. Not the type of nosy that wonders what the neighbors are up to, but definitely the type who likes to learn about people through the art, photos, or decorations in their houses. If they are like I am, each item has a story behind it and therefore a reason to be displayed. That's the stuff I want to know about. 

Yesterday I decorated our Christmas tree, sending me far down memory lane past simple reactions of joy upon seeing each ornament. As I carefully unwrapped the fraying tissue paper, revealing the faces of what my mother would call "old friends," I was brought back to the place where we had found, or the people who had given us each ornament. As this is the traditional time of year for reflection and gratitude, my mind was primed to refresh these times. Here's to hoping you, too, have a nosy and curious spirit as I do:

El Salvador

We bought these two beaded birds in El Salvador. The top humming bird enjoys quite a bit of artistic license, but the second one is the Torogoz. This Salvadoran national symbol is remarkable not just for its own rainbow colors, but especially for it's vibrant turquoise tail ending unexpectedly in paddle feathers. My husband and I were lucky to have seen the real Torogoz in the forest a few times and this little beaded version brings me right back to that excitement. 

The last two balls remind me of people. The first was from the great friends I made in the Consular Section when we exchanged plain silver balls with Christmas wishes handwritten on them. The final one was from a teenager in a San Salvador orphanage in gratitude for fulfilling his Christmas wish list.  

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, we used to walk through the town plaza in Antiguo Cuscatlan, a village near our house. There we found gatherings of people strolling under the lighting displays and the enormous town tree (above).  We would grab a hot cup sweet and fragrant atol from the lady at the caldron, add a dash of rum, and watch the Christmas story unfold on stage with local children dressed as angels and a very pregnant Maria looking for a place for the night. 

The holiday starts on Christmas Eve with families gathering for meals, exchanging gifts, and maybe attending an evening mass. However, gifts play a much smaller role in the celebration and are often reserved just for children. Salvadoran Christmas day comes in relatively quietly with families having late breakfast together but it ends in a bang. Forget Silent Night, Christmas (and New Year's Eve) is for fireworks! Imagine battlefield-sounding fireworks set off from every neighborhood or park starting after dark and continuing into the wee hours. Nobody escapes the cacophony. The following week is for taking the family to the beach as Christmas falls in the dry season with perfect weather to be under the palms.

Romania

As I hung each of these hand-crafted Romanian ornaments on our tree, I flashed back to the Christmas markets in Bucharest where we found them. Romanians are known for their hand-painted eggs at Easter, but the intricately painted works of art are also perfect hanging on the tree, with a Romanian flag ribbon of course. The delicately painted or cut wooden figures reminded me of Christmas cookies and the kitty with a bow tie always makes me smile. 

We had two very snowy Christmases in Bucharest, perfect for bundling up in fur hats and heading out to the plazas and parks to see the lights, stroll past ice skaters, hear traditional music on stage, and of course fill up on the unpronounceable Hungarian Kürtőskalács (more easily known as "chimney bread") toasting on rotating spindles over coals. Mmmm hmmm!

Nothing says "Romania" more than a Christmas fair in the shadow of the Ceausescu-era "People's Palace"

Just add cinnamon sugar

Merry Christmas!

Colombia

Our first Foreign Service Christmas was an eye opener when we learned that this verdant country didn't believe live Christmas trees. By the time we figured that out, all the affordable fake trees were sold out. Instead, we bought a potted "arbusto de Navidad" (Christmas bush) at a local nursery and decorated it with paper ornaments, hand crafted tiny angels, and a wooden carved bell we found at a popular craft fair. 

We also discovered their "novenas": the nine days of celebration just before Christmas representing the nine months of Mary's pregnancy. Over the course of the nine days, Colombians gather each night with all friends and family, enjoying food (of course), carols, time for devotion, and generally celebrating the season. We were honored to be invited to one novena night with friends from the animal shelter where we volunteered. On Christmas Eve, we walked just a few blocks away for the late night "Misa de Gallo" (Rooster's Mass) at the Catholic church. 

Bogota went all out on light displays in city parks and opened an evening "ciclovia," a bike route closed to traffic where families biked, skated, and walked their dogs from park to park to see the lights. One such park in the village of Usaquen had a fake snow machine that dusted the crowd - mostly children and a few stray Americans prone to reveling in childhood again - with fluffy flakes so exceptionally realistic that the Colombian kids' teeth chattered in the "cold" as the puffy white stuff landed on their heads and scarved shoulders. Looking up into the swirling false snowstorm was just about as magical as the real thing.

In the historic downtown, we came across a live "pesebre" (nativity display), complete with real livestock and fully winged angels. Just try to get this popular carol they played at maximum volume out of your head: Mi Burrito Sabanero. The infectious beat makes me picture the donkey's head bobbing along the path and hearing it brings me right back to Bogota. 

Christmas night ciclovia in action. 

My husband as Santa at the Embassy party at the Ambassador's residence.

Mexico

We crossed to the El Paso side of the border and bought our first fake Christmas tree which is still with us and decorated today. Coming from the Pacific Northwest, this was a big step. 

We were also honored to be invited by one of the consulate local staff one December night to his house for pre-Christmas pozole. Pozole is a spicy hominy and meat stew traditionally cooked in giant vats by wives, mothers, and sisters to be shared with family and community. But even more impressive than the pozole, were the "matachines" dancers. This very Juarez tradition celebrates the spiritual battle of good over evil. The energetic synchronized dancing and drumming has deep indigenous roots from the Tarahumara people of (what is now) Northern Mexico and the Apache tribes of the American Southwest. We watched families dance in full headdresses and color-coordinated costumes, one after another, and were told that for 24 hours there must never be a break in the music and dancing. It was below freezing that night as we watched the dancers and drummers in a narrow dirt alley by our friend's house while warming our bellies with pozole and our hands over a burning barrel. 

With our new fake tree decorated and skirted, we invited our consulate friends over for a round of a very Foreign Service "Why Did I Pack That in My Household Effects?" white elephant gift exchange. We unwrapped and swapped a hookah pipe from someone's Moroccan tour, a rock and mineral collection from Russia, a 220 volt waffle maker from someone's European posting, and a little carved wooden monkey of unknown origin - among many others.  

Enjoy what comes to life as you look at your own holiday ornaments this year!