The day after Christmas

We wake up a day after Christmas disoriented, quizzing whether we did all that–splurged on prohibited party food, binge drinking or sent the family pocketbook on a forced diet–saying in pitiful self-affirmation, “Well, it only happens once a year”. Sure!

With the innocent and eager faces of nieces and nephews, even Uncle J’s wallet had to take a forced diet. But what gratifying experience being able to put big smiles on the faces of toddlers. They are the greatest gifts of all!

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I took a few moments walking down Christmas Past. Yes, the sense of joy in the trade winds, happy neighbors all around and kerosene lanterns or smoke from the old local kitchen. We didn’t have all the trappings that come with the “new” Holiday Season, but we definitely were a happy people.

How great a feeling waking up the next morning after midnight mass seeing neighbors exchanging heart felt felicitations. For those who had plenty from the farm or the lagoon, there’s that time honored tradition of communal sharing. A humble but a great way to begin the day–barbecued scorpion fish (tataga`), finadeni` and rice–grateful we had something in our tummy.

We went through house chores preparing for the veneration of the Baby Jesus. We would hear beautiful songs at a distance being sung by the church choir signaling the arrival of the Baby Jesus. Felicitations of the season welled in our hearts as the troop moves from house to house. Three years ago, the last of the Lali Four patriarchs passed away. It was another closed chapter in all of the essence of the old village.

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Christmas brings font memories of my late auntie and uncle who led the church choir nearly all their lives–Mr. and Mrs. William S. Reyes. I said a special prayer for them when this sentimental journey took a quick stop at the old village.

When the veneration of the Baby Jesus was done, we’d all head to our grandparents’ house for blessings–kissing of the hand. What a grand gathering and tradition that seemed to have slowly disappeared with time. Another version came along–new filial gatherings–when siblings established their own families. I think it’s the essence of family gatherings of Christmas Past that I wasn’t willing to see recede with the tide of history.

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Christmas gifts (presents) in the old days came in the form of communal sharing with families something of real need. A neighbor who came in from fishing in the wee hours of the morning handed my late mom some reef fish. She reciprocated with taro and bananas we harvested the day before.

I wasn’t fond of root staples. I’ve had my share of taro, tapioca, bananas, sweet potatoes and yam. I’m in no hurry either when, i.e., yam or taro is souped with chicken or beef. I could still smell it miles away. Yeap, it used to be taro, banana, tapioca or sweet potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You repeat this meal until the old folks could afford to buy rice for a change. It’s Christmas Past at its best. Hope you had a good one too!

Strictly a personal view. John S. DelRosario Jr. is publisher of Saipan Tribune.