Christmas in Argentina

Christmas Day itself is kind of a let-down after all the scurrying, preparations, and cooking that is done for Christmas Eve.  Like every other Latin American country I've lived in thus far, Argentina celebrates on Buenanoche, not on Christmas itself.  I imagine the scene is a bit different for every family, but for the Richinis, whom I adopted this year, Christmas Eve is a familial mix of pop music in both English and Spanish, lots of homemade grub, fireworks, opening presents from Papa Noel, eating bags of chocolate, and discussing politics, life, and the finer details of the life of the strange gringa sitting at their table - primarily asking if she's single or has a novio (which means a serious boyfriend or fiance).

For my part, the biggest challenge of Christmas Eve is finding a bus or taxi.  Unlike other major international cities, there is no real capitalist streak here in Buenos Aires.  One would think that a cabbie could make a barrel full of money on Christmas Eve, considering how many people travel to their brother's/sister's/parents' home to celebrate the holiday, but no.  The Argentine way of thinking dictates that since Christmas Eve is a holiday for most Argentines, it's a holiday for all the cabbies as well.  I tried tracking down one company that was at least kind enough to send me an email to let me know that cab service would start again at 4AM (of course, please note that their phone line just puts you on hold with your and my favorite elevator music, saying nothing at all of this).  This wasn't particularly helpful since I was supposed to show up between 9:30PM-10PM.  So I just started walking down the street, hoping against hope that one lonely cab driver would be out.  I got lucky.  I had only been walking about 5 minutes when I saw an open cab.  At first I thought he was just going to speed past me, but he applied the brakes at the very last second and I ran across the street to hop in.  Then he kindly informed me that the rate would be double.  After all, he said, it's a holiday.  Ugh.

But at least I was able to get to Monica's house without walking all the way there in the heels I put on because Monica told me her family dresses up for the occassion.  Let me point out, for the benefit of Monica, of course, that I was wearing what she refers to as "boyfriend heels."  She has been giving me lots of crap lately for not putting in the effort to look nice when we go out, usually to bars, which includes wearing "boyfriend heels."  To which I responded that, "It's a freakin' bar, Monica!  No one should have to dress up to go to a bar."  To which she clearly responded, "That's why you're single, Ryan."  Sigh.

In any case, I made it to the Richini household sometime before 11PM and finally met Mommy and Daddy Richini.  One of the nicest traditions in latin culture is all the kissing that happens, even when you are just meeting someone for the first time.  You get kisses on the cheek and big warm hugs, making you feel very welcome.  This is exactly what my Nonnie had prepared me for - I just knew there was a reason she used to make me hug and kiss complete strangers when I was a child! 

So I gave Monica's mom the flowers I had bought her, unloaded the fudgemallow candy I had prepared, and stored my dinner in the kitchen.  Then it was time for heated discussions about politics and the Villa Soldati debacle, conversations about Ryan's love life (or lack thereof), family photos, food, fireworks, and even more conversations about Ryan's love life.  Then there were shouts of "Regalos de Papa Noel!  Papa Noel!  Papa Noel!" and Monica ran to the tree, grabbed all the gift bags off the branches and the presents off the floor and threw them at people until everyone had something to open, even me.  It was very haphazard and reminded me of the old Christmas Eve parties we used to have at Grampie Trap's house, in which the whole Janda family would gather at Grampie's house in the afternoon to pick "greens" to make wreaths, make wreaths while listening to Christmas carols and watching football, eat a feast, go next door to buy a Christmas tree, decorate said Christmas tree, unload ten tonnes of gifts under the tree, and then the present-opening fury would begin, with my littlest cousins tossing presents across the room while those with presents would tear into them, throwing wrapping paper and ribbon in a thousand different directions.  The Richini gift-giving experience was similar, if on a much smaller scale (the Janda family breeds like rabbits - there is always a new Janda popping up somewhere!).

Then Francisco, Monica's brother, fell asleep on the balcony and, one by one, Daddy Richini, Agustina (Moni's sister), and Mommy Richini all drifted off to their bedrooms to sleep, while Monica and I remained at the dinner table, picking at the leftover food, drinking the leftover wine and champagne (well, I was drinking water, but...), and chatting until 5AM.

It was a very good Christmas...Eve.

Christmas Day found me sleeping until 1PM and then slowly trying to get my act together.  I walked the dogs (still dog-sitting for Petra), and then pulled myself together enough to go into the office to take care of a few things.  The streets in the city are completely dead on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, which is a little bit strange for me.  I've lived in cities for quite some time now, and neither one of these days is as dead in other cities as it is here.  The only time I saw signs of life was when I came home at 5AM and the corner bar was PACKED to the edge of the sidewalk with people and noise.  Everywhere else was still.

I had tried to get a group of people interested in a Jewish Christmas (going to a movie and eating Chinese food), but everyone seemed to be out of town, so I spent Christmas evening talking to my family, eating leftovers, and watching about a half hour of It's a Wonderful Life.  I got an invitation to go out to a bar around 10PM, but I opted for a heavy round of sleeping instead.

And that, my friends, is how Christmas went down here in Argentina.  I still miss the cold weather, the Christmas carols, the smells and food of a winter Christmas, the tree, wrapping presents, and all of you guys, but Christmas is still pretty darn good when you adopt a new family and new traditions.