Since I just got around to starting my blog not too long ago, I have a back-log of topics to cover from the previous two months. So periodically I will be writing about things that happened a couple of months ago that I deem important to my experience here. Some of them (like this one) may be a little long, because I’m not very good at telling short stories…
One such experience was the Christmas holidays. I arrived in Bangalore on December 11th, so it really didn’t make sense to come back for the Holidays, as it would probably stunt my adjustment period. So, I stuck it out and spent the first Christmas in my 28 years away from Little River, Kansas. I knew it would suck to not be home during the holidays, but I didn’t know how much it would actually affect me. I had been in the country for 2 weeks, and you can imagine how crazy those two weeks were. It’s physically, mentally, emotionally, and digestively (tee hee) draining moving halfway around the world by yourself.
UB City and my apartment did a good job of trying to set the mood for the season. There were extravagant decorations up, and they blared Christmas Music over the house speakers for several weeks before (and a couple weeks after…) Christmas. For southwest Asia, it was a pretty passable winter wonderland. It definitely looked like Christmas. It even sounded like Christmas. On Christmas Eve, as I was walking around the mall pouting and feeling sorry for myself, one of my favorite Christmas songs ”Christmas in Dixie” by Alabama came on over the loud speakers. That’s when it hit me. It may look and sound like Christmas, but without family and friends and loved ones around, it sure didn’t feel like Christmas. All I could do at the time is sit down on a marble ledge, listen to Alabama sing about snowing in the pines, and tear up thinking about what I was missing out on back home. There are certain expanses that email, phone calls, and even Skype can’t bridge. I learned the hard way that being away from loved ones on Christmas was one of those.
Luckily things picked up from there. There are two Target Expats that live in my same apartment building with their wives. Jayme and his wife Andrea, and Adam and his wife Lori, have been a life saver. They regularly feel sorry for me and invite me over for dinner or breakfast, or even deliver food right to me! They also let me tag along as the 3rd or 5th wheel when they have stuff planned, which is nice. We all went to what we thought was going to be an English speaking Christmas Eve Mass at a nearby church. Of course there was some miscommunication over the phone while confirming this, so the service was actually in Tamil, one of the local languages, which we didn’t understand a word of. It was still a neat experience though. For example, I saw my first life-sized nativity scene that featured a Santa Claus standing by the wise-men. Also, the introduction to one of their Christmas songs, as played by the house band, sounded note for note like a Credence Clearwater Revival song. There was also a photographer from the Bangalore Times that took a particular liking to the 5 white people (especially the women) that were attending the Tamil mass. Unfortunately, we didn’t make the paper.
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| Fellow Targeteers Jayme (front right) across from his wife Andrea, and Adam (back right) across from his wife Lori. |
Leaving the Church was an emotional experience in and of itself. There were beggars and people with extreme deformities lined up at the entrance of the church grounds, arms stretched out touching your legs asking for rupees or anything else you can give them. It’s a tough sight to see. But as we were waiting for our driver so we could leave, I saw one of the coolest things I have ever seen. We heard a “Ho, Ho, Ho” amongst the hustle and bustle of Christmas Eve Bangalore traffic and turned to see a man dressed in a full Santa costume drive by on the back of a moped. He made an abrupt left turn into the church area and got off beside the throngs of beggars lining the sidewalks. He proceeded to hand out candy to the poor and the children alike from a large sack he carried with him while being mobbed by the masses, the whole time belting out his Christmas greetings. For the second time that day, tears formed in my eyes, this time for a different reason. One of the most heart-warming acts of kindness I’ve ever witnessed.
Getting close.
After the short ride home the five of us sat around drinking hot chocolate and one by one we went around the circle, each of us telling the others about our favorite Christmas traditions, our favorite holiday memories, and re-hashing our favorite gifts of all time. An awesome way to cap off a wonderful evening.
Getting closer.
Christmas morning came and instead of running downstairs to look at my stocking and open presents to the smell of fresh baked bread and a pumpkin pie in the oven like the previous 27 years of my life, I awoke by myself in an apartment with one single Christmas decoration that my mom had insisted I bring with me. But the experiences of the previous night still coursed freshly through my memory, so I was encouraged. Plus, the Arezzos and the Vander Poels had invited me over for Christmas brunch. I spent the morning watching what Christmas specials I could find on Indian cable until the food was ready. I walked into a wonderful and delicious spread of French toast, bacon, fresh fruit, and even mimosas. It was by far the best meal I had experienced at that point in India. After brunch we relaxed and watched the Vikings game that Jayme was able to record on his computer from the night before, and hooked up to the TV. If I didn’t know better, I could have very easily been back in Kansas or Minnesota at that point.
Getting closer….
That night, we were invited to dinner by someone that Andrea and Lori had met while volunteering. She was originally from Colorado, but had met and Indian fellow while in the country on business and ended up marrying him and moving here. This was her first Christmas in India as well, and wanted to show her husband what an American Christmas was like. So we trekked out to their little 20 acre farm outside the city. The grounds were beautiful, as was the house. They even had several horses in stables out back. The house was full of big game that Shashish (the husband) had shot and had stuffed. There was everything from leopards to bears to wild boar, even an elephant trunk and feet. (there was supposedly a story about how each of these animals had attacked or killed someone, so they call him to come take care of them. Otherwise it would be illegal. I doubt the legitimacy of this somewhat.)
We sat outside around a campfire for a couple hours, eating delicious appetizers and drinking wine. There were probably nearly 30 people there, an interesting mix of Indians, Canadians, maybe even a couple Australians, and Americans. But everyone was extremely friendly, and we were having a great time. Finally, dinner was ready around 10 or 10:30, which isn’t uncommon in India. I was curious to see what dinner would consist of, but I was very pleasantly surprised when they set gigantic plates full of ham, scalloped potatoes, broccoli salad (not as excited about that one, but it was still American food!) spinach salad, and sweet potatoes, amongst other American goodies. It was delicious. Not to mention the amazing spread of pies, cookies, and other American tasty desserts.
I was feeling pretty refreshed by then. I had just had a nice American meal in a beautiful residence decorated like Christmas, I was surrounded by what felt like old friends (of at least two weeks), and new friends alike, laughing and sharing stories of Christmas past, and hearing others’ adventures in India. Then Martha, who had invited 5 strangers from Minnesota into her home for Christmas, got up to give a speech. (Stealing from Adam and Lori’s blog for accuracy), she said “Thank you to each of you for being here and how wonderful an opportunity it is to "embrace the differences in all gathered" to accept one another in all our glorious, unique differences, representing worlds of people gathered at one table.”
There it was.
It finally felt like Christmas to me. Sure, I may have been half a world away from my comfort zone, and nothing will ever beat Christmases at Hill Top Farm and River View Farm no matter what happens in my life. However, I was sitting in a room with people who were celebrating “American” Christmas for the first time, and whose religious beliefs don’t line up with mine. But aside from religious beliefs, Christmas is about giving to each other. It’s about human beings whose paths may never cross again but for that one night, sitting down and sharing their time and warmth with those across and next to them. It’s about inviting near strangers into your home to show your new family how you celebrate to bridge that gap between cultures and religions. It’s about finding genuine goodness in all of God’s creations. That’s exactly what I found half a world away.
Amidst the insanity and chaos that India had brought to my life at that point, it had also provided something very special and unexpected. Not something that came in the form of a visit from three ghosts, or sleighbells, or reindeer, or Old St. Nick, but in the form of genuine kindness and humanity. It brought me a renewed sense of Christmas spirit. Hopefully one that I’ll never forget.
That was an awesome post.
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