Khristmas and Fireworks

It’s been far too long since my last post. I apologize and vow to do better.

Now that that’s out of the way, time for an update…

Lenny and I went with the eleventh grade students
to serve and have a special Christmas celebration
in an impoverished village nearby

December in Honduras was strange. There was no snow, only mud, mud and more mud. Christmas music was not playing incessantly from every available speaker. Gaudy decorations were few and far between (although they were much more prevalent than classy decorations). I did not see a single commercial or sign for Christmas sales or Christmas shopping or Christmas anything. It was very odd.

People in our rural mountain village celebrate Christmas with a big family dinner on Christmas Eve and a late-night church service, and then Sunday is just a relaxed day spent with family, blowing up fireworks.  (They do this for all special occasions – birthdays, anniversaries, finding a lost pig, etc. Usually in the middle of the night. Usually in the park right next to our house. And it usually sounds like a Wild West gun fight.) There might be fireworks galore, but there are no presents; most families here do not have the extra money for luxuries like gifts. For the most part, people here have missed the dreadful commercialization of Christmas. It’s beautiful (except for the fireworks).

Lenny was very excited to take our students
Christmas caroling through town; they were excited
to light fireworks during the caroling
- kind of a new fusion tradition!

When we arrived in the US a few days before Christmas, I felt seasonally disoriented, and I didn’t like it.  Don’t get me wrong; I have rarely been so happy to set foot on American soil and indulge in the luxuries of clean water and fast internet and cheeseburgers, but I instantly was aware of Christmas feeling tainted.

The shock wore off quicker than I would like to admit. The truth is I had missed the decorations (not including those tacky inflatable scenes; the world does NOT need any more of those), as well as the Christmas music and the holiday snacks.  As I contemplated my strange mixture of feelings, I realized that I had missed the constant reminders that Christmas was coming, because in Honduras, sometimes it was hard to remember that Christmas was even near. Life mostly goes on as usual. But I didn’t miss the chaotic hustle-and-bustle of Keeping Up with the Kommercialization of Khristmas.

Lenny and I with a 3-day-old lamb
at our school's Christmas program

As I contemplate the far off reality of celebrating future Christmases, I hope to adopt a more Honduran version of the holiday. Less commercialized, more focused and simple. A more soulful celebration that the Light of the World has come into the darkness. Now that I think about it, I might even throw in a firework or two. It makes perfect sense.