Collecting traditions.
When it comes to Christmas traditions, the more, the merrier, says
I’ve never understood travellers who are hell-bent on returning with souvenirs, like strange ceramics or wooden carvings. The best thing you can cart home from a trip abroad is a brand new tradition. During my travels over the years, I’ve imported countless ideas to inflict on unsuspecting friends and family, and exotic new rituals to insert into my everyday routine.
Even during these strange lockdown days, my life is crammed with purloined practices and appropriated habits that I’ve boldly stuffed in my suitcase on the way home from adventures abroad; my schedule is a morally questionable British Museum of pillaged traditions. The morning begins with me whisking up a matcha green tea, as I learned to do in Osaka, Japan, and only cheat and use a Nutribullet rather than a wooden whisk if I’m really pushed for time, okay? And in the evening, I wrap up my day by wandering down to watch the sunset after dinner, with the Croatian term for a postdinner stroll in mind, the “corso”.
It was my time in Auckland, a city with one of the most robust breakfast cultures in the world, that gave me a preference for a power breakfast over a lunch or dinner gathering; I’m still grateful for this deft social strategy that frees me of my civic duties by 11am. In Sweden, I picked up the practice of “fika”, a substantial snack with coffee, which I far prefer to the boring old British afternoon tea, or elevenses.
Beyond culinary embellishments and sly social strategising, the traditions I’ve picked up abroad stretch from lofty philosophical concepts (like the Japanese design aesthetic of “wabi-sabi” or finding the beauty in imperfection) to practical domestic customs, such as the German “stosslüfte”, (which specifically describes the practice of opening the windows of one’s home briefly to allow fresh air in, without allowing the home itself to get cold). Germany is full of brilliant, meticulously detailed traditions, all with a single word that describe them.
Christmas traditions, naturally, make for even richer pickings for the culturally curious kleptomaniac. I have family in California, and
I’ve come to cherish Thanksgiving as a sort of pressure valve to spare Christmas from meltdown. With a similar menu, a similar emphasis on meeting with family and similarly twee jumpers, Thanksgiving really takes the pressure off poor old Christmas. As a duo, separated by just four weeks, Thanksgiving and Christmas work great; no single day should have to shoulder this sort of burden of sentimentality alone.
Come to think of it, most of my favourite Christmas traditions involve (a) food and (b) stringing Christmas out. The Philippines has the longest and most lavish Christmas celebration
I’ve ever experienced, with nationwide light displays, parades and music festivals stretching from October until the end of January. In the Philippines, Christmas isn’t just for Christmas. Why not extend the celebrations out a bit?
Why not get the decorations up early so that we can enjoy them for longer? Why not have an extravagant cheeseboard every Sunday in summer? It’s not a real Christmas without a few “sure, why not?” moments, is it?
In Sweden, Christmas Eve is the main event, with family and friends gathering for an early evening Julafton meal, with Christmas itself devoted to simple smörgåsbord fare. This is a more relaxed way of doing things than in Britain, where the entire holiday pivots around a turkey coming out of the oven at just the right moment on Christmas Day.
When I lived in New Zealand, I became attached to the idea of spending Boxing Day on a beach, and even when I’m in London,
I try to get out for a blustery beach walk. This is a Kiwi Christmas tradition that has survived reverse seasonality.
I studied in Scotland, where Hogmanay is the main event; Christmas is really just about lining your stomach. I still bring this Scottish spirit to my New Year’s Eve celebrations.
Every time I spend Christmas abroad, or with people from a different culture, I find a new tradition, a new bauble to add to my Christmas tree. I know I do Christmas traditions to excess. But Christmas is the one time of year when excess is acceptable.
Christmas traditions, naturally, make for even richer pickings for the culturally curious kleptomaniac.