I also don’t think every day should be Christmas, which is a special occasion precisely because it happens only once a year. The commercialization of Christmas? What isn’t? Do we complain about, say, the commercialization of birthdays or weddings? Commerce is good. It provides us with what we need and what we want to have. It creates jobs and improves the quality of our life.
The last time I celebrated the holidays in Manila was 18 years ago and I still recall how disoriented I was to experience Christmas and New Year’s Eve on this island for the first time. Why is it so, so…peaceful? I asked myself back then. Where are the traffic jams, the lurid lights, the off-key carolers, the exploding firecrackers and the burning tires in the middle of the road?
In the P.I., Christmas is the prelude to the year’s biggest celebration, which is New Year’s Eve. The holiday season starts on Dec. 1 even though the festivities officially begin on the 16th when nine dawn Masses are celebrated before the 25th. The morning air is a bit nippy (72-ish in a place where temperatures ranging from 88 to 93 are typical). We get to wear our jackets and sweaters. It’s tough though to find a vacant seat in church before Mass starts.
The malls open at around 9 in the morning and will be packed starting at noon. Commuting is torturous. More so if you’re carrying several shopping bags filled with gifts. Riding a bus, a jeepney or the elevated train requires dexterity, quickness and the ability to endure the collective whiff and body heat of a sweating, huddled mass of people while protecting your wallet, watch, bracelet, earrings, necklace and cellphone from pickpockets and snatchers. Taxi cabs at this time of the year are choosy and insist on getting paid more. If you have a car, the search for a parking space is an ordeal and squeezing into and out of the main roads can be nerve-racking.
But all this is part of the holiday season as we know it.
There are parties every day. Bright and colorful lights and “parol” (star-shaped lanterns) are everywhere.
Extremely loud firecrackers go off now and then. It’s like a never ending fiesta in a war zone — with karaoke singing as background music.
Such was the holiday season I lived through every year in a metropolitan area that now has close to 12 million people — the 11th most populated in the world. So imagine my surprise when I first moved to Saipan, a small tropical island with only 60,000 people, and the holiday season arrived with not even a whimper. It seemed just like any other day, except for the Christmas songs on the radio and the large (and real) Christmas tree in the lobby of the administration building on Capital Hill. On my first Christmas eve on island, I had to call my cousins in Manila so I could hear some noise.
Over the years, however, I’ve learned to appreciate a simpler and definitely quieter celebration of this most wonderful time of the year. Despite the high power rates and a gasping economy, there are still establishments and homes displaying Christmas lights and other Yuletide decorations. I enjoy the Christmas songs played on the radio. It’s still there in the air, the anticipation of happiness, of pure joy I first noticed, like everyone else in Christendom, as a child.
For the religious, salvation was born with that baby in the manger over 2,000 years ago. Even if you’re not a believer, the festive air is irresistible. The kids are now enjoying their school break and are trying to behave so they can get the toys they want on Christmas. We’re checking our lists and wrapping gifts. We will visit friends, receive visitors or gather at the beach for barbecue. We will call/email/text/chat with our relatives abroad.
Tomorrow, on Christmas, the air is clean as ever and the view of the lagoon remains breathtaking. There are trees, flowers and other plants everywhere. The streets are safe. There is no need to rush. We are with our loved ones, our friends or co-workers as we celebrate hope and kindness. We feel blessed. And we really are.
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