'TIS THE SEASON

CHRISTMAS.  As the years go by its significance has changed for me, and I’m not sure I like it. As a child it was everything it’s meant to be ~ a delightful balance between celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus and the excitement of Santa coming down the chimney. 

My parents were devout Catholics who took us to church every Sunday, and religion was a natural, easy part of our lives. It guided me, comforted me, fascinated me. Setting out the nativity scene at Christmas time was one of my favorites. I imagined Mary and Joseph on their journey, full of innocence and pride. I loved getting to place that tiny little baby in the manger, destined to change the world.

The meaning of Christmas began to change for me when it evolved into a month of obligatory spending money I didn’t have. I resisted as much as I could not to get myself into debt, but it wasn’t easy. Thankfully I didn’t have kids! I honestly don’t understand how families do it at all, (much less why, with means or not). It felt all about adult peer pressure I didn’t want to buy into. Being overseas, I don’t miss that aspect of the holiday at all.

Despite that craziness, I always loved bringing Christmas into my home. On “decorating day” I’d set up my freshly cut little tree, put on my favorite holiday CD’s, and break out my three boxes of adornments. I’d made a tradition of treating myself to a unique ornament every year, and special memories flooded back as each was lifted out of the box. It was my own sacred ritual, one I've always treasured.

But alas, all that changed when we moved away from the States. We didn't bring in a container to Costa Rica, so we had to give up most of our possessions. That was actually pretty easy to do, except for those ornaments. They ended up getting weeded down to the favorites, and put upstairs in my mother-in-law’s garage. I couldn’t let go.

Now that we’re in Ecuador, I’m still missing that dang box. Funny thing is, my friends and I were talking yesterday, and they’ve had to do the same thing and feel the same way. It’s like walking away from your favorite photos ~ it’s walking away from your history. There are very few things we miss, but those are the biggest. Thankfully this one’s a once-in a-year challenge, but a tough one all the same. I’d give anything to get that box down here!

The religious aspect of Christmas has eluded me for awhile now, too. I’ve been through the (probably not atypical) struggle of questioning my Catholicism, and worse yet, the concept of God itself. I won’t get into that here, but suffice it to say that there are times I long for the unequivocal faith I once had. I guess that’s what trying to intellectualize faith can do. But that’s my issue...

Anyway, what I want to say is that despite Christmas having changed for me, I still adore the way Cuenca still celebrates its holy origins. We wake to church bells every morning and enjoy the religious symbols lit up everywhere. We love the massive parade of children all dressed up as shephards, angels, and Wise Men for the Paso de Los Niños on the on the 24th. We wonder at the loud booms of fireworks going off at all hours through December, but that’s the fun of it. At least here people are celebrating the right things for the right reasons.

Last but not at all least, Christmas is still about family ~ the thing I miss most of all. The laughter, the craziness, the love. Family was everything for my parents, and the holidays were our favorite times together. They still are. We are ~ dare I say it? ~ BLESSED to have been raised with a solid foundation of a loving family. Not being there with them gets to me every year -especially on Christmas Eve when we usually get together. Still, here we know families who gather for nine nights at various houses to celebrate of the coming of the baby Jesus. All month we see and feel much of what it used to be for us. We see and feel what it’s meant to be. 

Hey, maybe deep down Christmas hasn’t changed as much for me as I think...

A GOOD TIME WAS HAD BY ALL

As I’ve mentioned before, one great thing about living here in Cuenca is how easy it is to make friends. In the last blog I talked about our “Cuencano” amigos, and still yet, we “Gringos” (slang for North Americans) seem to be everywhere, too. Over the course of the last year we’ve met many friends on the street, in supermarkets, restaurants, and in and around our neighborhood. 

We all stand out a bit, even to each other, so if there’s a spark of interest on both parts you easily get into the typical “how we ended up here in Cuenca” stories. From there you discover all you have in common (or not, as the case may be). 

 So, with all the great friends we’ve come to know and love over the past year, I yearned to bring everyone together for a one big party. Our apartment has a lot of outdoor terrace space, and it’s large enough to handle a fairly decent crowd (especially if it doesn’t rain.)                       

                                                                                                                              But what would we celebrate? Well, October is both Jeff’s and my birthday month, but we didn’t want that to be the focus. So what the heck? It turned into a 
“We’re Getting Older, and Getting Better” party to celebrate everyone's birthday, no matter when it was.

And to make it even more special, our dearest friends Fran & Randy from Costa Rica came all the way to join us. Woohoo!

Of course, if you’re going to celebrate properly around here, you need to do it “a la Cuencana”. That means that a party isn’t a party unless it’s centered around a “chancho” (roasted pig). As luck would have it, a local catering service comes to your home with the whole pig (tasty head and all!), golden rice, mote pillo (hominy), salad and dessert. They even bring the plates and utensils and serve buffet style. We had over 40 people, and the entirely reasonable cost was under $300.Now that’s a bargain.

Now of course, I’d envisioned the buffet to be served outside on the terrace under the tents we’d rented. But at exactly 4:00pm (after a gorgeous sunny day, no less), guests started to arrive and that’s when the sky opened up. It rained so hard and sideways, the caterers had no choice but to set up in the narrow kitchen (which already included the very active bar.) But that didn’t stop anyone. The rum punch and everything else flowed, appetizers nibbled, and then the incredible chancho feast was served. Thankfully the rain passed through quickly, so people could still go outside to eat at the tables as planned. 

Once that was all done, the music was cranked up, the glittery hats donned, and it was 
time to PAARTTY!

What a great gang. We were ridiculously silly, danced like nuts, and just had way too much fun. The age range went from four months old (our newly “adopted” grandbaby Juanito), to seventy-eight. Yep. We’re getting older and getting better all the time. 





Okay, so some might call it “regressing”, but they’re probably
 not having nearly as much fun...

As you get older, are you getting better? I remember my father insisting that with age came wisdom. I'm not quite so sure about that, but I do think our generations may be wiser about living life more fully in midlife and beyond. What do you think?