As I begin to put fingers to keyboard for this latest blog entry, my mind is humming with just how much Christmas will be different this year. With reports of huge snowstorms back home, pile ups on the 400, and the world economy tanking, we certainly have a lot to be thankful for in our year "away". As I look out to our back deck, Linton is sunning herself and reading in shorts and a t-shirt and 25 degree glory. Colin and I played tennis this morning and then I went for a run in a Melbourne that already seems vacant for the holidays. In two days we will be loading up a rental car and heading for "the beach" which we hope will be 5 days of sun and sand. Christmas - seems very distant both in its message and the material that makes it real in our minds.
As we have been "jonesing" just a little for a familiar something in the absence of snow and hockey, we have come to notice a few things about an Aussie Christmas that stand out. On tv there are few specials dedicated to Christmas and the ones that are there tend to be of a B grade variety - like Shrek the Halls showing on Christmas Eve and Christmas Vacation 2 with Randy Quaid - Uggh! No Chevy Chase? - Not even worth considering. I had to get my Grinch fix on CBC radio the other day and Barbara Budd is no Boris Karloff! We also took notice that Victoria's Secret has a lingerie show on Christmas Eve as well. There is Christmas - but it also seems like it is a bit of an afterthought - at least on TV.
Certainly the retailers are trying to get into the spirit with window displays and department store santas and the other day I put some change in the bucket of a guy on a street corner ringing the bell for the Sally Ann. Even so, Christmas has an element to it - whether it be the snow, or the whole babe-in-a-manger thing, or simply a good turkey with stuffing that our life in Australia can't quite recreate. I am aware that this is our first Christmas in Australia and I can't possibly have seen all the ways to do it. But whereas back home we would look forward to reclining by the fire with a book, hot toddy and a few carols - maybe out of sheer necessity - the weather simply dictates otherwise here in Oz. There's no need for a fire and the temperature is more suited to a cold beer and a few shrimps on the barbie. And that's certainly what many Australians do - pack up the cooler and head for the beach with plenty of seafood at hand.
If it were not for the lingering English influence in Australia, where even there snow seems to be a common theme at Christmas, I think Australians might give up on the whole thing altogether. While in Canada we look forward to the opportunity and excuse to celebrate with family (indoors) the fact that we all survived another year, the celebrating down under seems to be as much around the end of the school year, the start of summer, or the next test cricket match as it is around Christmas. Indeed, I read an editorial in a newspaper the other day that made a similar tongue in cheek claim - that Australia just wasn't suited to Christmas as they do it in the northern hemisphere. I might tend to agree, though if I was to acknowledge the Christmas Story a little more in my own celebrations I would realize there wasn't any snow falling in Bethlehem that night either. And why should only snow-burdened societies be allowed to stake their claim on knowing the real spirit of Christmas?
Nevertheless, it is a bit weird to walk around a store and see all of these ornaments and decorations with pictures of snow piled deep and crisp and even. Surprisingly though, and I think due to another lingering English influence, there are many real Christmas or Yule trees as they call them. Colin and I slowed down in front of a drive thru flower shop the other day so that we could actually smell the pine needles. As with all smells it was a very instant and powerful memory of home. Trying to build on the pine needle memory, I dialed up a few podcasts of the Vinyl Cafe to see if the adventures of Dave and Morley and the Christmas turkey might make things feel more festive and in fact, the dulcet tones of Stewart Maclean actually helped, a bit. Building on that, Colin and I attended a carol sing on Sunday night at our local Anglican church. It was quaint and very folksy and we had fun singing Silent Night and many others. Still, with the warm sun burning through the stained glass windows and everyone there in shorts and flip flops it wasn't quite Christmas.
None of this is intended to be a complaint but more the observations of an outsider struggling to find Christmas buried beneath all this darn sun! I really shouldn't complain- after all, if snow at Christmas was that important to me I should have applied to the University of Stockholm! What brought this point home even more for me was a brief journey down - literally - into the underground world of the ex-pat ice hockey fan. The other day I had a chance to enjoy a few pints with some new acquaintances watching a taped, week old Leaf- Sabre game in a divey pub in downtown Melbourne. It was great to be out - but I didn't really need the grainy stale game that was balring away on the big screen. The comaraderie and convo was key and I could have happily watched the -gulp!-test cricket. A good reminder that I wasn't really here for the hockey and I didn't really need to try and re-create Canada in the middle of Melbourne. Maybe it should be the same way with Christmas...
In place of snow and ice, we are actually enjoying some new and different traditions. We have already had a very pleasant and boozy Christmas tea (actually champagne) with new friends, we are realizing the benefits of no snow in terms of immediately going outside to play with your new toy, and we are looking forward to spending Boxing Day with friends and their family in Metung where we will undoubtedly learn another thing or two about what makes an Aussie Christmas special.
Interestingly though, when all of the trimmings and trappings of Christmas are not as readily available, you inevitably re-create or crave the things that are most important to you. In that regard we do miss friends and family and the social life that comes with them. A snowball or two might also be nice. A crackling fire. The smell of turkey. Pine needles. Mom's cranberry loaf. A really good game of shinny or at least a live Habs game on TV. Little things. Silly things. But the things that we continue to discover make us who we truly are.
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