Well, it was hard to believe, but Christmas came.
Somehow or other, it came just the same. How
could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without
packages, boxes or bags!
It came without carols! It came without snow!
It came without that Christmas-light-glow! It also came without candy canes,
candles, or cookies. It came without Christmas concerts and Yultide meals. It
came without presents or stocking stuffers. It came without electricity. It
came without water. And the biggest difference – it came without my American family.
How can Christmas come without all of those things?
Unlike the United States, Chad does
not celebrate Christmas for a whole month before the actual day. Chad
celebrates Christmas Eve and the 25th, and then they move on. On one
hand, this was a relief. It is hard to be away from home for the holidays (I
think I mentioned this in the last blog) and I wasn’t looking forward to moping
around on Christmas. On the other hand, it really didn’t feel like Christmas
was actually here. For me, Christmas was a season instead of a few days off
work. But the day approached and I celebrated Christmas Chadian style, as
different as it was from my usual South Dakota Christmas.
Village Altonodji wrapped up its
first trimester on the 20th with a short gathering at the school for
the presentation of bulletins (something like reports cards that the teachers
put together by hand – no computer help here!) Most of the orphans headed off
to spend their vacation with their extended families, leaving just a handful
behind to celebrate Christmas at the orphanage.
When I got home from school that
day there were three little boys sitting in our yard. They were going to spend
the night and then catch a ride to N’Djamena the next day. I couldn’t believe
how still they sat the entire afternoon and evening, speaking in whispers and
staying out of everyone’s way. I’ve seen other Chadian children do the same
thing, and I still can’t figure out if they have been trained to be motionless
for hours on end, or if it a cultural expectation, or if some kids are just that
shy. I didn’t seem natural to me and my heart went out to them (what if they
were lonely or scared??), so the next morning I got out a French comic book and
nonchalantly sat down in a chair to read. Slowly, like stray kittens smelling
food in your hand, they crept up next to me to read also. Once our book was
finished, I fished out crayons and a coloring book I had brought with me and we
colored 101 Dalmatians, Simba, and some Aristocats. I was beyond delighted when
they unconsciously relaxed, started to giggle at each others’ color choices,
and made the little clicks and snaps that all little boys make. That may have
been the highlight of my Christmas vacation, and the little guys (Charles,
Samuel, and Klaton) left with most of my coloring book.
The Church put on something like a
talent show for a few nights before Christmas day. The choir sang well-known
songs, children recited poetry in a Baptist-preacher-style, and teenage girls
performed choreographed dances. It was very entertaining and very different
than Salem-Zion’s Christmas program. The sound system was louder and fuzzier,
the atmosphere was livelier, and it was held outside so we had stars instead of
candles to send us home. However, on Christmas Eve after our evening prayers, I
sat on the swing outside our house, looked up at Orion’s belt in the stars, and
sang Peace Peace quietly to myself.
Because no Christmas of mine is complete without that song. I am happy to say
that this was the only time I almost teared up during the whole week.
Christmas day meant a packed Church
with many singing groups. I think most of these groups were families because
they wore matching outfits in traditional bright patterns. It was fun, very
long, and a little embarrassing because my host mother kept pushing me (the
only white person in a congregation of over a thousand) to the front to take
pictures.
My host sister was away visiting
family and my mother works at the church, so my host brother and I were given
the assignment of making lunch. I am ignorant when it comes to cooking in Chad,
and Rondouba is a boy, so traditionally he doesn’t cook. Together we made an
attempt at omelets to eat with bread. There was a big mess, lots of shoulder
shrugs (“Is this how Mama does it?” “Beats me.”), and lots of laughs. For those
of you who think that omelets are super easy, remember we don’t have a stove,
the pan was actually a bowl, we flip and stir with a big knife, and I had to
cut the onion in my hand because we don’t have a cutting board. I was actually
very proud of our Christmas lunch.
Chadians also do not really give
out gifts, but the children go from house to house, sometimes dressed up and
pounding on drums, to get candy and money from their neighbors. We got some
visitors who were just as eager to gawk at me as to collect their bonbons.
And that was my Christmas day. Not
bad at all, but definitely not the Christmas I was used to. I saw a little more
of the western Christmas when I went to N’Djamena to spend a few days with the MCC
Reps, Jon and Angela, their four children, and Angela’s parents. After a long
bus ride from Moundou, I walked into a house with English speakers, a Christmas
tree, and presents! Aside from a MCC T-shirt and rice crispy treats, I got
packets of baking powered and ranch seasoning for Christmas. I was incredibly
satisfied.
I arrived home yesterday evening
and am now spending my evening with my host parents, sipping Pepsi and munching
on little cookies. The power is on for the first time in three weeks (although
it is off in my room due to a small and harmless fire in my ceiling) and we are
enjoying lights and the French news. The new year arrives in a few hours, and
the Christmas season is about over. It was strange Christmas, but overall, I am
content.
You probably know how I am going to
end this, and in Chad I feel the Grinch’s words ring more true than anywhere
else.
"Maybe
Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas…
perhaps… means a little bit more."
Christmas definitely was not from a
store this year, and that reality pointed to what makes Christmas “a little bit
more.” My family and friends are far away, but in these last few months my
heart has grown another size to fit in another set of family, friends, and
children. I have had the opportunity to celebrate Jesus’ birth with them, and
although Christmas day was lower key than other years, this community
intentionally includes Christ in their everyday lives. I feel blessed to spend 2014
with them, overcoming challenges, celebrating accomplishments, and building
relationships.
Merry Christmas to all of you, and a Happy,
Happy New Year!
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