Halloween has come and gone this year and all I can think about now is the holiday season. I’m that person that starts playing their Christmas playlist on repeat starting on November 1st. This year, it will be a little different because I’ll be spending two weeks in Ecuador visiting family. While I’m not particularly excited to experience the sweltering humidity of the coastal summer, I am excited to see family members who I have not seen in years and also relax for a bit before the second semester starts. Last year was the firs time I didn't spend the holidays with my family or my parents, and it was rough. My mom always says that what's important about the holidays is that we're together. So if we're not together, can the holidays still mean something special to me? Can it still be Christmas without the snow? Can it still be Navidad without the pernil and misa de gallo? Can it even still be New Year’s without seeing the ball drop on TV? In an attempt to make sense of what the holidays will now mean to me as an adult and as a Latina, I will be writing a series of articles where I'm "rewriting the holidays." And what I mean by that is simply trying to make the holidays my own again, to (re)claim a space that still holds the magic of childhood, to have the perfect blend of Ecuadorean and American, and to have the holidays mean more than gifts and winter break now that I'm older.
Part of the problem with rewriting or reclaiming anything is that you have to define whatever it is you want to capture. So, what do the holidays mean to me? I think the're a mezcla of everything I am: Latina, Ecuadorean-American, American, woman. They're also a mix of my parents and my family, the people who bring these identities to life. They exhale their memories and their culture for me to breathe in the same.
I think we can all agree that the holidays are special, but for me that magic felt palpable. For a brief moment, my family felt whole across continents, generations, language barriers. Somehow, a portal opened and transported my parents and grandparents back to their own childhoods in Ecuador. They brought their memories to life for me and recreated them in new ways. They would prepare way too much food and play villansicos and clean our small apartment until it shined to welcome in the new year. Calling cards would give us all thirty minutes to yell loudly and quickly everything that had happened since the last time we’d spoken to our relatives. Trips to the travel agency would bring us gifts and letters from my aunts and cousins. When we prayed before having dinner, we meant when we said it was like they were there in spirit.
At the same time, we still knew we were miles away. I’d put on my chunky snow suit and go build a snowman in front of my apartment. My dad would take me window shopping on 5th Avenue and I’d have my Holly Golightly moment at Tiffany’s. I'd go ice skating with friends and look up to see the giant tree lit up in Rockefeller Center. With a cup of hot cocoa, I’d rewatch “Home Alone” for the thousandth time and eat candy canes with my brother and bake cookies to leave out for Santa (aka my mom). It was just the right blend of American and Ecuadorean, one of those rare instances when life becomes hands you the perfect metaphor.
It was also just the right balance of traditional and modern. Alongside our artificial Christmas tree, we had our small pesebre, the token Christmas decoration in Latinx homes. My school would put on a formal Nativity play that had the same script and costumes year after year, but then the youth group would host a talent show to be rivaled where the next Mariah Carey and Jose Feliciano got the chance to take the stage. I admit the transition was a little jarring but somehow it worked.
So if I remove the setting, will the holidays still work? Will they still be as magical as when I was 6 or when I was 15 and got my first guitar? Can I bring back the Latinidad to my holidays while I'm here at college miles away from home? Can they be special at all without my family? New traditions will form and I know the change will be a good thing. My memories of holidays past will remain pristine and precious but they’ll also make way for new ones.
I hope you’ll enjoy this series and join me in rewriting the holidays.
