Christmas

For the last two weeks I had tried my hardest to create the Christmas spirit. I baked cookies on top of cookies, sewed stockings for my family, made a wreath; which unfortunately doesn’t work as well with palm leafs, and listened to Christmas music. Yet I failed in all my attempts; maybe it was the fact that I was walking around in shorts and t-shirt and dying from the summer sun; or the lack of or practically nonexistent Christmas lights. The only place that felt remotely like Christmas was the shopping malls were decorations could be found in ever store front window. The festivities began on the 24 as the entire family gathered in my grandmother’s house; there must have been around 35 of us. The food never ended a blend of Armenian and Argentine dishes took up three tables. Every aunt tried to make me feel comfortable while insuring me that I hadn’t tried there dish yet and stuffing a third helping down my throat. At midnight fireworks illuminated the sky, as well as little paper hot air balloons that would float away into the night until catching fire leaving a pile of ashes to float down. Considering that it was technically Christmas day at this time we gathered in the house to open gifts. The week before I had learned to sew and made almost all my gifts; embroidered towels, an apron, stockings ect… My favorite gift was a painting done by my young talented cousin of a gaucho on horseback riding off into the sunset; it now resides on my bedside table. Dessert lasted till around three in the morning when the elders started to head home. The younger generation got together with all the Armenian youth for another party. For the most part it included a lot of drinking (I not included) and horrible singing; the attempted Christmas carols came out as mumbles and screeches till 7 in the morning. The 25 is spent recuperating and sleeping till around noon. At lunch a small portion of the extended family met at my cousins to make pizza on the grill and swim. Another Christmas had passed by. Surely one the strangest I will probably ever take part in. Yet I loved it being surrounded by family something my childhood had lacked and breaking away from Americas materialistic Christmas was liberating. I had found the true Christmas spirit when I had given up looking for it.