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So, this last stretch of the year I almost didn't publish anything, for that I apologize, next year will be better!, but alas, this is the last I'll publish this year, hope that is at least somewhat entertaining.
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Christmas, all around the World, is associated with White, because of snow, and because the all powerful globalization, and it seems that the cold of snow contrasting with the warmth of family and friends is the perfect synonym for it. But in more southern countries like Venezuela, where snow doesn’t even exist, we just get some extra cold wind on nights and early morning, and instead of songs filling every space (which we still get), we have fireworks as if it was the 4th of July in the USA, or at least that’s how it used to be. 

Have I changed?, yes, but the country itself has changed in many ways, not all of them good. But here we are, in December, if not celebrating, remembering the times when we did or at least reflecting on why we even do it, and as such, here is a commented tour down memory lane about Christmas before, and Christmas today, in 3 parts, because that way it’s more fun.
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<center>**PART I: Childhood**</center>

I can’t say that I remember very well my first decembers, hell, I can barely remember the common elements from those dates from before my teenage years. But I do remember some stuff: decorations, cleaning and painting the house, the “parrandas” (our regional version of Christmas carols), the HUGE amounts of food, visiting every single relative alive, and the letter to the “*Child Jesus*”.

I was a nerdy and unsociable kid, but I was a kid nonetheless, so for me this month could be condensed into two things: *get stuffed, get presents*. Together with the very same Christmas cake everyone knows (dark, with nuts and fruit), two foods were at the same time my friend and my enemy. 

The “**Ham Bread**” (self-explanatory name) I liked, but it had lots of olives that I didn’t like to chew on; and the “**Hallaca**” (“corn dough wrapped in banana leafs and filled with stew” is the best way I have to describe it) just wasn’t accepted by my child self, don’t know why, I just rejected it, and that became a trademark for me *the weird kid who didn’t like Hallacas*, at least until later years when my family found that I ate them every time that I went to the house of the girl I liked (oh the power of love!). It didn’t help that my mother’s family had the tradition of getting together and make HUNDREDTHS of Hallacas for the whole month. We usually had some of them even trough late January.

But on a personal level, as with most other small kids, the things I waited and wanted more were the gifts received on the 24th at midnight (or the morning of the 25th if I couldn’t stay awake through midnight). Peculiar thing though: even with Santa Claus being the public face of the holidays, the one person that we were told gave us presents was none other than Jesus Christ himself, but in a child’s form. Maybe it was so we could feel more identified, I don’t know, and I’ve never really gotten an answer.

The thing is, together with the Christmas Tree (Pine is hard to find here, 99.9% of families used plastic ones), we had something called “El Nacimiento” a scaled reproduction of Christ’s birth, with one detail: the figurine of Baby Jesus wasn’t put on display until midnight between the 24th and the 25th, and it was at that moment that all presents appeared. It seems that when Child Jesus came to each house, he brought the presents with him. 

I used to write my letters to him in a personal manner, something like “*hey, you are a kid too, you know about toys so…*” with some touches of a repented criminal confessing each and every little misdeed in hopes of getting the desired toy. Last present I received from Child Jesus was the cartridge for “Pokemon Sapphire” for the GBA, and I didn’t sleep at all that night. After that, I started questioning the historical and logical innacurancies of Jesus being a 2000-year-old child when in church he was presented as an adult, and it may be because of it that someone told me “*Child Jesus doesn’t exist, your parents buy the presents*”. I don’t really remember someone telling me that, but the presents stopped coming.  

Alongside that, December was the month for visiting family friends, and damn, my father had A LOT of friends. Since early 24th we dressed in all-new clothes (shirts, pants, underwear, socks, shoes, EVERYTHING had to be new) and spend the day and the night eating from houses we barely saw the rest of the year. 

From those, the only one I truly paid attention to, was my “Adoptive” Grandfather’s house. We weren’t blood-related, or even legally, but the old man had been a true friend of my father and somewhat of a mentor for him in his early years as a journalist, and since my real grandpa from my father’s side had died decades ago, I “adopted” **Don Alí Almeida** as my own grandpa. He taught me how to swim, he taught me about classic literature, he made Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” the undisputable soundtrack of my Decembers, even more so than the “parrandas”. Only bad thing: his GIANT Rottweiler dog terrified me with its mere presence, even thought he never did anything bad, he was just intimidating.

December started with decorations, progressed with food, its first landmark was a gift-filled night, and the last week before the year ended, was a progressively louder time because of the increasing amount of fireworks used. I was a sheltered child, so my experience with them was very limited, usually just watching other people play with them. But on new year’s eve, we waited for the last bell to ring and after the “*cañonazo*” that marked a new solar cicle, everyone got crazy, and I got together with a nephew that was raised as a little brother (my older sister being somewhat young when giving birth to him), and we lit up our little piece of heaven. We used to start the year dressed in all-new clothes and with a bang.
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<center>**PART II: Teenage Years**</center>


This period of time collided with 3 facts that changed quite a lot of what December was for me: the economical debacle of my county started to truly show itself, I actually got friends of my own instead of just “kids I play with at school”, and teenage angst.

I really don’t want to give much detail about the economical issues, mainly because it isn’t much what I understand about economy, but one thing made itself clear for me: **Socialism doesn’t work**, it’s **CANCER**. Things went from “*relaxed middle class life*” to “*didn’t we spend far less money to make far more food last year*?”, and it got worse with every year, but we somehow adapted to it. We shouldn’t have, because getting used to something and not complaining about the obviously bad was our downfall. I also started to feel bitterness in my heart every time my father told a story about his past in the Guerrilla, but I kept quiet, after all, things weren’t so bad yet. No reason to be worried… sure…

By this time, since I was “*too old*”, Child Jesus and the presents on the 24th were just a happy memory, because I didn’t get them anymore but I still ate a lot of food and the ambient was not so bad. But I was a TEEN, and as such my reactions tended to be somewhat exaggerated. Now the multitude of decorations were “annoying” and “unnecessary” instead of “pretty” and “nice”, but I was ok with having them. But something extra was born into me: at some point, while I still enjoyed the new-year’s fireworks, the day itself became, for me, a day of melancholy with a dash of angst. Can’t say why (one step closer to death maybe?, another wasted year?) or exactly when started, but I didn't see new-year’s eve with good eyes anymore.

In any case, they were very few, and we didn’t visit each other as much, but by highschool time I got a couple of friends that I started to visit on December. I was growing up, now I had houses of my own to visit!. One of them was this girl I liked and that made me not only eat the Hallacas I so despised in my childhood, but also made me dance, and made me visit her whole family. Sounds a little like dating huh?, we never did, but in the mind of everyone at the time, she and I made up two thirds of a love triangle, together with another girl who was the best friend for both of us, and who tended to give me roses. Oh how much I blushed!.

But even then, those visits and “dates” were far and in-between. I was still unsociable, and they and my other friends were highly sociable. At some point I started drinking alcohol (yes, underage, such an unlawful sin right?), I didn’t like whiskey and barely tolerated rum, but vodka was cool and wine became a great friend, especially after my “adoptive” grandfather recommended me a certain brand of pink wine (also called “Rosé”, for those who may know).

Time passed, I was about to start college. My “adoptive” grandfather died from his worsened Parkinson’s disease, and the nephew with whom I used to burn fireworks on the last day of the year, was killed in a shooting. Early college friends were nice but didn’t help, and I had what was probably the most bittersweet new year’s in my life, even up until now. 

But I’ll forever be thankful to one guy, a friend that I didn’t hung out much, that decided to join my family and I in our mournful receiving of the January 1st after my nephew’s death. We had decided to go to a small house in the mountains to just be quiet, and since that guy’s family didn’t celebrate any kind of December holiday, and he was also a friend of said nephew, he came with us. Everyone but us 2 decided to sleep early, and that guy and I stayed awake, drinking wine, talking about life and the scary future, and also watching some morally dubious anime. We got into a fight years later, but this moment of friendship we had saved us from hating each other. 

Towards the end of this stage in my life, some people distanced themselves, some new I met, younger and older, that ended up becoming my emotional and social support (unknown to them, mostly), but by this time, Christmas was just an evanescent childhood memory.
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<center>**PART III: Adulthood**</center>

Curiously, by the time I could be considered an adult, the “Grinch” inside me had gone away, I still had a generally sour mood during the season, but I stayed quiet, keeping most of my dismissing comments in my head except when trying to “joke” about the Christian/Catholic Church being really unoriginal about how they celebrated their Savior’s birthday. No one laughed, ever.

In any case, instead of just complaining and feeling bad, I analyzed things, and tried to find the “why” behind everything people did in this season, from both a traditional/anthropologic reason, and a psychological one. That still goes on, and as such, this season in general could now be named my “*Quest for Meaning*”, and my findings have changed with time.

But oh the Iron-E!, one reason to kind of be glad for me not celebrating (or even “feeling festive”), was that by not having *Ye Old Holiday Mood*, I wasn’t as affected as much by a now noticeably crumbling economy. Where in the past it had some cracks, now it was wasting away, and the mountains of food eroded into nothingness. Yes I was sad that every December felt worse from a general point of view (from a personal POV, not one worse than that other drinking wine and mourning), but I was kind of numb because it wasn’t just December, it was every month that our bodies, stores and bank accounts felt sicker and thinner.

I started to truly miss the childhood marvel at decorations, the luxury that was having the right to refuse food, and just the general joy everyone had. But friends right?, friends were saviours since I never got along with most of my family (the extended one, outside parents and brother/sister), and now more than just visiting, I spend the whole 24th-25th and sometimes even 31st-1st in their houses. One of those friends was extra special, as every girlfriend should be, but what starts quickly and intensely tends to end in the same way, and the last new year’s eve we spend together was a bitter sign of goodbyes to come.

There is not much to say about this stage of my life, since no one celebrates as much anymore. The old –and I insist, imaginary- love triangle dissolved years ago (I became the "love therapist" of my old crush until she married), the college friends of my first career moved far away, the ones from my second career were never as close as I thought, but the nerdy and literary friends I met trough hobbies are still present, as brothers and sister.

And this 2018, first year since I got my first decent job, it is also the first time I gave myself a Christmas present. A small joy in a sea of dark happenings and damaged electronic devices (by my own stupidity I must say), but a joy none the less.

So, this has been December for me, these have been the festivities through the years. They may become better, they may turn worse, they may just change, but I’ll will consider everything alright as long as the good people in my life are healthy and happy. Joyful holidays to all, and read you next year!.

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