On Christmas Eve, look to the lights of farolitos
New Mexicans love to squabble. Red or green? Lard or not in biscochitos? Fat, small tortillas or larger, thin ones? So many points of contention. Still, few arguments are as fierce (or as foolish) as what name to use to refer to a candle burning in a humble paper sack. Farolito or luminaria?
Those of us blessed to live in Northern New Mexico understand the lights in paper bags are farolitos, or in English, little lanterns. The bonfires are luminarias. To all those from Albuquerque down south, who mistakenly call the small sacks of light luminarias, we will agree to disagree while pointing to one of Santa Fe’s most beloved traditions.
On Christmas Eve — this year, it falls on Sunday — hundreds of people will walk along Canyon Road and its side streets on the east side of Santa Fe. They are there to participate in the Christmas Eve Farolito — not luminaria — Walk. As they walk, people will will see thousands of farolitos shining through the dark, lining sidewalks, driveways, walls, even rooftops. When individuals stop to warm their hands, they will bend over bonfires, or luminarias.
Though we disagree on what to call these beacons of light, we can all agree that lights are necessary in the dark of winter.
Christmas falls just a few days after winter solstice, the day when light is in the shortest supply and darkness lingers. For Christians, the holy day marks the coming of the light in the form of the baby Jesus. Other religions, pagans, the non-religious — all people, really — also need the power of the light and mark the darkness by anticipating the brighter days ahead.
In Santa Fe, many locals and visitors take to the streets on Christmas Eve, bundled up against the cold yet unafraid to venture forth through the dark night. There is light, after all, that illuminates the way. This walk is a neighborhood affair at its heart, with neighbors sharing cocoa or cider, perhaps a cookie or two. There is warmth from the bonfires and from simply being together. Sturdy gloves and snug hats always are recommended. It’s not a bad idea to bring a flashlight, either, just in case it’s hard to navigate the narrow streets.
The walk is a moment in time, a time to be in the moment, with no social media or distractions. Whether it’s your first time on Canyon Road or an annual family tradition, what’s important is to revel in sensations.
There’s the chill of the air, its coldness filling lungs so breath is expelled in puffs of fog. Despite the still of the dark night, there are sounds — echoes of Christmas carols, the crackling of the fire, laughter of children and the occasional barking of dogs who wonder from their yards or living rooms just what is happening. The fragrance of burning piñon, whether from fireplaces or in bonfires, infuses the air. All the senses are engaged — or they should be.
And that’s the joy of the Farolito Walk in particular, and the broader celebration of Christmas in Northern New Mexico.
This season of anticipation and then, on Christmas Day, of fulfillment, draws us to simply be. Yes, we wonder what treats are in our stockings. We are frantic finishing the shopping, cleaning and cooking. We scramble to get it all done. Then we stop and enjoy.
And on this walk, this Christmas Eve, we leave the bustle behind and focus on the light. Farolito or luminaria? Whatever you call it — we are firmly in the farolito camp — the candles in their paper bags deliver the light, some 15 hours’ worth. That light, with its symbol of brighter tomorrows, is what matters.