You see my very first memory is tied to this day, left abandoned in a baby stroller, staring at the lower rack of pots and pans in a department store while my mother was off shopping the other aisles. Come to think of it, maybe that was the day before Christmas, as Christmas day was the one day of the year that my mom did not go shopping.
My mom would shop for Xmas ornamentation even in July, much to the dismay of us kids, who would rather be out swimming or playing ball on our summer vacation. While on vacation, my dad would really get pissed off by my mom’s trips to Christmas shops open in Vermont at this odd time of year, and once even refused to pay for the tinselled angels and frosted tree decorations that my mother had amassed in large shopping cart - but he capitulated with my mom’s argument, “It’s cheaper this time of year.”
My family was odd in both matters of money and holidays, with my father coming from an orthodox Jewish family and my mother hailing from an Irish Catholic one. But neither were religious in any way whatsoever, so the “Holiday” season (as its now called in America so not to offend one group or another) did not bring on menorahs nor trips to church, but rather an uneasy tension for all on what to actually celebrate, with my mom opting to just go and shop - and forget about the rest.
My mom celebrated the department store and all its godly wonders while my dad celebrated being able to subsequently pay the rent on Jan 1. As kids, we took for granted that our parents were screwed up, and pretended to be Christians, like almost everyone else in town. But my Italian uncle (from Mom’s side of the family) always looked down on us as the “Jewish kids.” This disdain was reinforced on the year that I accidentally ploughed my cousin’s new bicycle into Uncle’s ornate outdoor manger display, and decapitated baby Jesus with the front tire.
I was only nine at the time, but I remember this confusion over religion being high on my list of anxieties. During the holidays, most of my pals were dragged either to mass or to temple by their parents, kicking and screaming, while I on the other hand was free to do whatever I liked – unless my Mom needed a shopping companion.
Perhaps this upbringing is why later in life I became an American Buddhist...and as young US grasshopper, the Xmas season became less and less spiritual as a single set of days set aside to celebrate biblical characters, and more a time to enjoy days off work and to go to a party or two. And of course, it was the best time of year to make any major purchase, as sales were plentiful and deep discounts applied...
Now on the eve of 2011, I see that Civil Mall has a Santa, and that the Christmas Shop in Jawalakhel is open till 10pm, and I am really amazed by Christmas’ reach. The Xmas spirit appears to be swelling in Kathmandu, striking me as somewhat odd. After all, my own experience at playing Santa a few years back at a local KTM Montessori confirms that most small Nepali tykes see a fat white man with a beard and bell as a monster, and will run screaming if given the opportunity. Even when dragged onto Santa’s lap by coaching parents, all they want is a way out, and they don’t care about gifts from a grizzled old storybook character.
On the eve of 2011, I see that Civil Mall has a Santa, and that the Christmas Shop in Jawalakhel is open till 10pm, and I am really amazed by Christmas’ reach.
But the age-old debate over the commercialization of holidays is passé, and lost to the side of merchants anyway. Just look at Dashain (btw, now my favourite time of year). Somewhere along the line, human spirituality became tied up with what you can buy at the store, and I doubt that’s not going to change anytime soon. Maybe my mother was right all along – if you want to celebrate anything, just go out and buy something.
Only the prices of consumer goods are skyrocketing while all of our net wages are plummeting. Perhaps that’s also always been the case, and my father was sage-wise in his penny-pinching - even back in the day. It seems the pressure to consume has always been as strong as the pressure to believe...
In the New Nepal, this has never been more apparent with the import of fancy printing presses and the resulting flood of advertising flyers and slick promotions. Entire publications are distributed each Friday in the capital, whose sole purpose seems to be to sell imported furniture, high-tech gadgets, and the latest fashion accessories. Even online, the pressure to buy more has taken on a Nepali flavour with Merodeal.com offering NRs 1,500 of whatever for just NRs 750. Oh boy! So how does this pressure feel to you? Do you feel the urge to buy something this season, but don’t have the bucks? If you do, welcome to the out-of-bucks shoppers club, wishing for just a bit more credit on a card, and perhaps a better deal online. But whatever your situation – have a Merry Christmas anyway!
Writer is quirky kinda expat happily living in the Kathmandu valley with Nepali family, friends and a very large dog – and won’t be buying any “holiday” presents this year.
herojig@gmail.com
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