Part 3: Chrismukkah
This Christmas might have been the first in my life when someone didn’t come tapping on my door at some ridiculous hour in the morning telling me to get up so we could open presents (a habit I, too, was guilty of until not that long ago). This year I wasn’t in sunny Florida, but I was more than happy to see that it was indeed a sunny day in east London. It was a rather hurried business of getting ready that morning to go to Kevin’s uncle’s house, so we didn’t have time to open any presents before we left. We drove to north London, which was in a really cute area on a high bit of land that made for an excellent view of the rest of the city. Apparently, Sean Bean even used to live on the same street as Kevin’s uncle! It was a cold day, but the weather was perfect.
Kevin’s uncle, Leo, is a very nice old Jewish gentleman with a very friendly non-Jack Russell terrier dog. When we arrived he was very polite and friendly when we were introduced, which put me at my ease immediately. I’d been worried about intruding ever since I agreed to spend Christmas with Kevin and his family, but it turned out to be a non-issue. Leo is pretty much the exact image of an older Englishman I’d formed before I ever came here for the first time. He was so polite and attentive to his guests, offering sherry from his liquor cabinet in the sitting room and speaking so very properly. More than a few times I just wanted to ask, “Are you for real?”
While Kevin’s mom and Leo started preparing dinner, Kevin, his dad, and I took the dog out for a walk to the top of the hill where there was a huge building that looked like it had at one time been a palace or similar stately home, but which turned out to be a broadcasting building, or something like that, where the first broadcast of some famous thing that I’ve now forgotten once took place. I’m sure it’s fabulous, whatever it is. There was a nice grassy area on the hill near the building where we played with the dog for a while. It was just so nice to be out in the sun! We hadn’t had good weather for a good while beforehand, so having it for Christmas was a special treat.
I called my parents while we were out for a walk and spoke to everyone back home for a bit. It was weird knowing that everyone was there except for me, even my brother and his wife who drove down from Philadelphia, but it was fine. It was good to get a chance to talk to everyone, especially my brother, Jared, who I hadn’t spoken to since I’d left.
Back at Leo’s we had a really terrific Christmas dinner. Kevin’s mom can cook, that’s for sure; however, I was afraid when I heard that for a starter we were having borscht, a beet soup with sour cream. Borscht is the only food I can ever recall tasting and having to spit out because I was physically incapable of swallowing. I knew Leo is Jewish, so I thought that was the beginning of some sort of traditional Jewish meal, with borscht possibly being the most appetizing item on the menu. It was at that moment that I really regretted not being home for Christmas. If being ill was the price of good manners, I was prepared to pay up because I was at no cost willing to offend in any way the family who had invited me to share Christmas with them. To my complete happiness, and as testament to Kevin’s mother’s cooking ability, the borscht was actually very nice, as was the entirety of the meal. There was a huge spread, with ham, turkey, and all manner of vegetables. For dessert I had Christmas pudding for the first time, which was fun in and of itself. Doused in brandy and then flambéed for a minute or two in the kitchen with the lights turned off, it was a very fun display. It tasted very nice, too, even though I’m of the general opinion that alcohol and dessert are best enjoyed separately.
The food was so delicious that I didn’t even stop to think about any of my favorite dishes that I was missing out on back home. One thing that did make me draw a comparison, however, was the dinner table conversation. I’ve already mentioned that Leo is very proper, but I neglected to mention that he is also very intelligent—intelligent to the point of being intellectual. The food wasn’t just there to be eaten; it was scrutinized to the highest possible degree as to the taste, flavor, texture, etc. Without a strong opinion as to the doneness of the meat, I fell mute for the duration of the meal. I couldn’t help but compare my family to this one, and the result was an amusing picture. I’m not saying my family is dumb or anything, but “intellectual” just isn’t a term I would ever use to describe it. At work or school we’re as smart a bunch as any, and more so than most, but our Christmas dinner conversations generally don’t revolve around the quality of the region where the Merlot came from, and that’s not just because we drink sweet tea instead of wine. More likely than not we’re teasing each other and reliving silly stories, like when my brother ran me over with the go-cart or when our cat peed on my mom’s head. I was having a very enjoyable time, but I really missed sitting around having a laugh with my family.
After we ate we sat in the living room, which held the token Christmas decoration, a cheerful Christmas bush, and Leo handed out presents to Kevin and his parents. I was completely taken by surprise when he then handed me a present that had my name on it (and it was even spelled correctly, a feat which my own grandmother has only achieved on rare occasions). It was so touching. I suddenly felt severely inadequate considering the only gift I had brought was a chew toy for Leo’s dog. Leo gave me a book of Japanese haikus and artwork, which was very nice. Kevin was given a book of Russian short stories and his dad was given some other book of great literary merit in keeping with the pattern of stimulating reading material, therefore I was both surprised and amused when I saw that Kevin’s mother had been given a set of three little cacti. I’m not sure if Leo was going for a which-of-these-doesn’t-belong type thing with his selection of gifts, but if he was, mission accomplished.
By that evening I had decided that Christmas had been a success after all. I hadn’t been homesick, I had enjoyed seeing how another family celebrated the holiday, and I was happy to find out more about Kevin and what kind of background he comes from. While all of this remains true, I had spoken a bit too soon.
When Leo suggested watching a movie, I thought it was a great idea…I had seen in the TV guide that National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation was on that night. Great! There was still time to have a laugh on Christmas. Unfortunately, there was not. There was to be no laughter this Christmas, oh no. What Leo put in the VCR wasn’t How the Grinch Stole Christmas or even It’s a Wonderful Life, it was a Russian subtitled film called Burnt by the Sun, and it wasn’t a wonderful life for anyone in that movie. For a solid 2 hours at least I had to sit and watch this awful movie about Stalinist-era Russia and unhappy people doing terrible things to each other with a handful of politically-motivated murders thrown in for good measure. It was one of those movies that makes you want to slip quietly away and slit your wrists. If ever you find your Christmas festivities getting out of hand and people start to look a little too cheerful, just stick a copy of this in the DVD player and watch everyone sink into a quiet depression or a boredom-induced coma. I was assured that the movie was in fact quite deep and powerful, but I leave that to the intellectuals to decide. I will be sticking with Ralphie and his Red Ryder BB gun next year, and for all the Christmases that follow.
In the end I didn’t slit my wrists after all, so we drove back to Kevin’s house where it was no longer Christmas since by the time we got back it was past midnight. We couldn’t go to bed without opening anything at all, so I opened the present Kevin’s mom gave me (a jar of homemade organic jam) and Kevin opened one of his. The rest we opened the next day. Kevin did very well for himself by giving me the cutest card ever, the first series of Arrested Development, and tickets to see Kanye West perform at the Apollo Hammersmith in February. Later that day I headed back to my place in Acton. Christmas was over and done with, and it had been really great. I had a nice time with Kevin and his family. Even though things were different, that’s part of what made this year special. I can at least say definitively that this is a Christmas that I will never forget.
Tags: Travel
Administrator
Leave a Reply