By Brendan Scott
Last year I learned the meaning of Christmas. I spent Christmas 2010 in Guatemala, away from the snow of Colorado and more importantly away from my family. Guatemala, or at least my home city of Xela, doesn’t celebrate Christmas the way most of the world celebrates the birth of Christ. Sure at the Inter-American School, where I worked, we had a Christmas Play. Last year the elementary performed the well known play Izzy Saves Christmas, where Izzy the mouse saves Christmas. Haven’t heard of it? Well, it’s a Guatemalan staple, or it is now.
I also taught my students what the best kind of Christmas party is; a White Elephant Party. Who doesn’t want to go home with an alarm clock in a country where it is better to use your cellphone as an alarm at night, because anything plugged into the wall just might lose power.
But where Guatemala, and especially Xela, differs from Christmas in the United States is Christmas Eve. Growing up as a Presbyterian Pastor’s kid, in the United States my family’s Christmas tradition centered around our church’s Christmas Eve service. Every year, especially when I was younger, my mom would force me into my Christmas best, drive me and my sisters to church, and we would light the Christ Candle. As I documented last year in my blog I’ll Be Home For Christmas my family always had the misfortune of lighting the Christ Candle, which never went smoothly. I fought with my sister in front of 1,000 plus people who’d come to church expecting to hear how Christ came to bring peace on earth and goodwill to men. The next year they expected something else, and I did not fail them. I dropped a lit match on the carpet floor. Fortunately the church didn’t burn down.
I did not have to light the Christ Candle for Christmas Eve in Xela. I was a spectator, surrounded by friends and Guatemalan families who had come to celebrate Christ’s birth. As much as I missed being with my family last year I enjoyed witnessing how the Latin culture celebrates Christmas. My favorite part of the service at Saint Mark’s was the Posada. A handful of kids marched into the church dressed as Guatemalan Marias and Joses with sumbreros and mustaches followed by a very Guatemalan baby Jesus Cristo.
Shortly after the service, after I had sung my share of Spanish Christmas Carols I headed back to my house with Skyy, his mom Susan, Jen (co-worker), Blake and Amy (co-workers), Blake’s family, and Holland (another co-worker) and his boys to set off fireworks. Ask anyone in Guatemala and they will tell you setting off fireworks is the real reason for the season. I may have spent upwards of twenty dollars on fireworks, which didn’t even match what Skyy (one of my student’s whose house I lived at) spent. Us guys took the next couple of hours detonating our ammunition. At midnight Xela sounded as if it were under attack, the entire city lit up like the large Christ Candle.
Christmas Eve has aways been family time for me, quiet and relaxing (after the Christmas Eve service at least). This year I plan on watching “How Earnest Saved Christmas” with my two sisters. I look forward to waking up on Christmas morning and being with my family. But I will always remember how much fun I had lighting off fireworks and celebrating my savior’s birth with people my Guatemalan family.
Christmas is not about what you do, what you give or what you get, but in the end it is about enjoying the birth of Christ with those who are around you. No matter where you are. Last year on Christmas day Donna and Laurel McMarlin (Laurel was one of my co-workers) welcomed me into their family and shared their Christmas with me. They helped make what could have been a lonely day, a day full of love and celebration, which made for a perfect Christmas.