How can I write a post about Christmas? There is just so much to say because of everything I associate with it. Until the age of 14 I had always travelled with my family to Mexico where we spent Christmas at my grandparent's (of mum's side of the family) and New Years with our Great grandma (Nona), Negris, Alejandro, Puli, Sergio and other relatives. These were the best Christmases ever as the celebrations lasted from the day we arrived in Mexico City to our departure in early January after El Dia De Reyes (King's Day). Everything about Christmas in Mexico was magical. Chesca and I would count down the days until we were watching films on the plane wondering what our friends were doing in school at that exact moment. We loved eagerly searching for Abu and Duado among the sea of faces in the airport and arriving to the large green metal gates of San Jeronimo in the orange "combi". Abu or Pedro would always prepare us some tortillas with quezo de Oaxaca and chorizo. Sometimes, if we were lucky, Abu would have bought special blue maize tortillas from the market outside the Church. These were my favourites as well as the ones made of flour - I was known for eating them one after the other faster than they could be cooked!
Travelling always left us exhausted so it was always a great comfort to be able to sleep in the lovingly prepared beds to the familiar sounds of the Mexico City night. Our arrival was usually followed by that of the cousins and Monica so the house was quickly filled with excitement and noise (especially in the kitchen which was the centre of all the hubub). Occasionally we'd escape, just us four, for an extra mini holiday to Tulum for a week or so before the important Christmas festivities got underway.
Christmas day is fondly remembered by Chesca and me. During the years following Duado's death and the selling of the house at San Jeronimo we started to spend Christmas here. Oh, what a difference. I remember sitting on Chesca's bed on various occasions reminiscing about Mexico. Sometime mum and dad join us so we're all sighing and longing to return.
The day would start by Chesca and I waking up and then going to mum and dad's bed where we'd open the presents given to us from friends and family in England. While mum and dad got up we'd run to the other side of the house and wake up our cousins whose job it was to arouse Sandra and Mau. It was run like a military operation with us splitting into groups: one made sure the parents didn't fall back to sleep, another went to the other house to fetch Monica and we'd all co-ordinate waking up Abu and Duado. This would take over an hour as it can be very difficult getting seven tired adults into the same place at the same time (coffee usually did the trick). We would then sit, wait and usually sing outside the door to the living room where the Christmas tree was. This would take even longer as the adults would wander in and out of the room and, whenever we asked them if we were allowed inside, they'd almost always answer "no". So exasperating! However, the rush of joy once we were allowed inside was completely worth it. I remember slipping in my socks on the red terracotta tiles of the room as we races towards the Christmas tree surrounded with gifts wrapped in brightly coloured paper. There would be traditional English Christmas carols (probably sung by some choir or another in Oxford) playing in the background. Abu was assigned official present-distributer status and would call our names as she read them off the tags. Duado would all the while film with one of his new camcorders or cameras (mum says he was always into any type of new technology which is true as he often had the most up-to-date gizmos and gadgets still impressive by today's standards!). After all the commotion of unwrapping the presents, saying thank-yous and lots of kissing on the cheek all the cousins would rock a basket Abu held with a figure of baby Jesus inside. We would all sing a lullaby together and then separate with our gifts to get changed ready for Christmas lunch.
Dad and Mau were always in charge of peeling and cutting the sprouts and potatoes. They would sit outside in the sun together drinking beer while we took our toys to the garden to play. Sometime Duado would fry the potato skins and make crisps which we'd all eat together in the kitchen while Abu roasted the turkey. I don't like turkey too much as it always seems to be dry but it didn't matter. Cooking took up almost all of the day and we'd sit together in the dining room at the tables (on for the adults and one for the children) eating a huge traditional Christmas feast. This was followed by Christmas crackers made by mum and then Christmas pudding (of the Tesco variety to be exact) imported from England by us. We'd turn down the lights as mum came into the room with the blue flames licking and flickering round the pudding. She'd always wear some foam reindeer antlers and a flashing rudolph nose which made us laugh. Ok, so our Christmas was in fact quite British as mum and dad would even hide coins in the pudding (although they were usually Mexican, English or Canadian). We'd finish off the meal by eating some After Eight chocolate and watching a Christmas film (more recently these would be the newest instalment to Regina's Barbie DVD collection which I secretly enjoyed).
I wish more than ever to be able to go back to then. As much as I love Christmas in England it will never be as beautiful as the ones we used to have. The houses have been knocked down and the garden divided up to accommodate new flats. I try to record as much as I can remember about the house in San Jeronimo as possible as I am so scared of forgetting it.
Christmas, however, is not a time to be spent mourning what used to be. It is a time when you give thanks for what you have including all the precious memories lovingly stored away. This Christmas was calm and relaxed which I am very thankful for. We unwrapped gifts under the tree in our front room with mum, dad and Abu. There were the traditional Christmas carols playing in the background and exchange of thank yous and kisses on cheeks. We ate a delicious Christmas lunch (mum really made a fantastic effort this year) until we thought we'd explode and then watched Christmas TV together. There was no room for Christmas pudding and we forgot the crackers but we were all content and happy to be in each other's company. I would give anything to go back to Mexico but also love spending time with my family regardless of where in the world we may be.
