Salt in Your Pocket

Año Nuevo is huge here. Right now the number of people in the city is in the process of doubling, creating traffic scenes that look daunting even to a native Bostonian. They say that the fireworks display at midnight (or apparently somewhere around then, Chileans aren't so bothered by punctuality) is one of the biggest and most impressive in the world. Although I can stay out pretty late by New York standards (I'm no stranger to six am), the party here apparently goes until eight or nine. When Maca and Caro told me this I nearly moved to show them the gray hair I found this summer. I feel old and tired just thinking about it.

In addition to fireworks and dancing and drinking on the crowded streets, the celebration of New Years here involves lots of traditions. As Nike pointed out it seems to be the opposite of what we're used to, Christmas is no big deal and New Year's has lots of significance. All of the traditions have to do with luck in the New Year. They range from familiar to deeply strange.

Yellow Underpants No one has mentioned why exactly, but it appears to be very important to wear yellow underpants on New Years. The street vendors have had stacks of them laid out on blankets all week. Judging by the styles I saw for sale, it seems that the tradition applies mostly to women. Although perhaps gents also don lacy thongs to celebrate.

Eat Lentils You're supposed to eat lentils without salt before midnight. Apparently this will bring wealth in the New Year. Conveniently lentils are one the foods I can afford, so it couldn't hurt to try... Do you think cooking them with sausage would be cheating?

Walk Around the Block With a Suitcase This is supposed to make all your travel dreams come true. It seems like it could be sort of goofy looking.

Eat Twelve Grapes Apparently this tradition originated in Spain. No one seems to be sure why, but it might have started with a royal proclamation intended to help the grape industry. Sounds a bit hard to believe, but ultimately pretty simple.

Put Salt in Your Pocket In your left, front pocket to be exact. I didn't quite understand why. But no other pocket will do.

Hug Someone of the Opposite Sex at Midnight This seems similar to kissing someone you want to be with for the rest of the year at midnight. It doesn't seem to have the same romantic connotations. For example, I am hoping to hug a six month old baby at midnight. I really like babies.

So I'll be sure to let you know how it goes. I'm going to nap now. It looks like I have a long night ahead of me. Happy New Year, everyone!

Things I Don't Understand About Christmas in Chile

1) The weather- Ok. I understand this intellectually. That the earth is on an axis that moves and sometimes the bottom of the planet is closer to the sun and the top is farther away. But today is December 24. I woke up this morning and put on jeans, a t-shirt and sunscreen. And the strangest thing is that they don't even try to adapt it. There are machines that blow fake snow in the department stores. If you get this message in time, please send snow and mistletoe.

2) Pascua- According to sources as varied as my high school Spanish text book and Wikipedia, Pascua means Easter. But apparently it also means Christmas. Santa Claus is Viejo Pascuero. I've asked lots of people how and why they came to call Christmas Easter, and I've never received a satisfying response. It just is. Nothing about the etymology of the word or the history of the celebration seems to justify using Pascua to refer to the birth of Christ. If someone could shed some light on this mystery I'd be much obliged.

3)Bagpipes- Maybe it's a strange coincidence but some guy around the corner has been playing "Amazing Grace" on a bagpipe the whole damn day. I don't know what holiday that is appropriate for (Veteran's Day?) but it's certainly not Christmas. Quit it, dude. You're only making things more confusing.

Anyway, I hope you all have very merry christmases or at least happy days today and tomorrow. And that you're warm and with people you love. I'm going to go make ceviche and a peach tart. One nice thing is that I don't have to eat ham.

An Open Letter to Gift Givers

To All Those It May Concern,

At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I would like to provide a parameter of sorts for all gift-givers out there. Say you find yourself in a crafty clothing/jewelry/gift store while shopping. Say a certain something catches your eye. And this something is not exactly pretty. Or useful. Probably it's not like anything you have ever seen. You may find at this juncture that your thoughts turn to a certain young woman on your gift-giving list. Perhaps a woman who wears bright colors or clothing with an unusual style. I urge you not to buy this item. Even though you are surely thinking, "This is funky she'll certainly like this." In fact, ninety-nine times in one hundred, if you find something "funky" (that is a mostly positive term used to describe an object of unusual style or dimension), the recipient will agree that it is "funky" (that is possessing a terrible odor, at least metaphorically). I feel confident speaking for all such young women when I say they would much prefer something boring, useful or mundane.

With this caveat I wish all of you the very happiest of holidays and I submit the following photographic evidence to make your days even more merry and bright.

Love,
Rose



*Yes this hat is made of polar fleece.

Weighing in on Holiday Songs

This year musical and commercial manifestations of the Christmas season started immediately after Halloween. To be fair, I wasn't in the country at this time last year, but in my memory there was a lag period of at least a week. I started noticing lights in trees and on sign posts around Columbus Day. They weren't lit, but it was so early I wondered whether they were premature or left over from last year. On November 3 I heard Christmas carols in the lobby of a movie theater. Really it's too much. I am already entering retail stores in fear of hearing that awful Chipmunk's Christmas Song ("Huuuuuula hooooooop!").

My friend Jess has begun a correspondence with Boston radio station WROR addressing their plan to play ONLY Christmas music between last Monday and December 25. The producer who responded to her very reasonable letter basically said, "You're no fun." But really, making the Christmas season eight weeks long seems like a sure way to drain all of the fun from it. Even my mother, who normally is a pretty level headed person, has fallen victim to this marketing scheme. She is going Christmas shopping today with a bunch of lady friends (and many of them are Jewish!). The madness must stop. Just as the presidential campaign should not begin two years before the election, the Christmas season should not begin two months before the holiday.

Things I Will Miss Most

And that was just the last night....


Merry Christmas to all of you. Stay tuned for updates about my re-acclimation process and hilarious tales of the stress of graduating and finding an apartment and job and life. It should be a very happy new year.

Tangental Update

So I just put my sister on a plane back to Boston. Which marks the end of the last visit I will recieve in Amsterdam, barring one of you surprising me tomorrow morning (this is recommended). But I crossed some very important things off the meta-To-Do list of the semester including the Heineken Brewery (just great!) and the Expressionist exhibit at the Van Gough Museum (they really over-sold the Kandinsky. There are only two paintings of his). Additionally I spent more time under the influence of substances that aren't legal (or "tolerated") at home than perhaps the whole rest of the semester combined. Which is a good way to end things, I suppose.

Another long term goal I attained this week was finally getting a white leather bag (a quest Leila and Doug might remember from the way I eyed the ones Italian police officers wear). It was a great deal and I really love it and my old purse is on it's last legs. I do feel a little ridiculous buying things for myself with Christmas right around the corner and not a single gift bought. Who am I kidding though? It's clearly going to be stroopwaffles for all.
And so, I am becoming more and more preoccupied with moving back to New York and the pending culture shock of that experience (and the general shock of finishing college in May). I'll just repeat for any of you who are so unlucky as to not be my facebook OR myspace friend that I am looking for an apartment that is cheap, doesn't require a year lease and reasonably easy to get to NYU from. It seems like moving back will be especially depressing because I'll have just missed that magical Christmas In New York feeling that's everywhere in December. Instead it will just be the Depressed But At Least The Bars Are Open Late feeling that takes over in January. I'd like to take this opportunity to warn all of you that I have not maintained my tolerance of alcohol while abroad and if you make me take shots I might vomit. I also go to bed by one most nights.
But for now I am just trying to write my last paper so I can do fun things and have a great time with the people I have met here who I will miss veryvery much. I am trying to look at it as an incredible opportunity to visit friends in exciting places in the future, but I also feel like I am just getting to know a lot of people and it's sad to leave them. Sigh. So complicated.
Ok. If I post again really soon just yell at me and tell me to go write my paper.

I thought you might need a little Christmas...

you know, right this very minute.
So this is sooner than expected, but I finished a paper early and I thought it would be fun to have up first thing in the morning. I couldn't think of anything you guys would like more than me being a complete asshole, so here you go.

Updates, Contests, Holidays, etc.

So I meant to mention under the contest rules that I only had certain materials available for fixing my earrings (scotch tape, duct tape, mounting putty and penut butter). But since I didn't, Devin wins. He'll probably get the stroopwaffles in the mail since I am unlikely to make it to Texas before they would become stale.
Don't be sad that you didn't get the stroopwaffles (but see how commenting pays off?) because I am working on a super-great holiday gift for all of you, but especially Leila, Rachel and any member of Sixie Choir I might be forgetting. It might be done before my sister gets here on Thursday should I drink too much Gluwine (hot wine, not wine made of glue) at the Sinterklaas dinner tomorrow night and not spend the evening writing my colloquium rationale. Nevertheless, it's going to be great.
I leave you now with a photo of myself with a Zwarte Piet in Rotterdam this weekend.


Coming Soon! Rotterdam! Marzipan Analysis! The definitive debate on what makes a bar gay featuring special guest commenter Yvette!

Dutch Culture: Sinterklaas

This is officially my first post about the holiday season and my first post written while I ought to be working on a final. Probably the Sint will leave me coal. "The Sint" is an affectionate nickname given to Sinterklaas, which is an affectionate nickname for Saint Nicolas (Sint Niklaas). Sinterklaas is basically the Dutch equivalent of Santa Claus. Except they also have Santa on Christmas, so really it's just more candy and presents. I urge you to read more about this fascinating and complex tradition, but for now I will just do the highlights.
On the second to last Sunday in November Sinterklaas arrives on a steamboat from Spain in the Amsterdam harbor. Yes. A boat from Spain to Amsterdam (Sinterklaas Boot!). He spends Saturday chilling at his church (which I have posted pictures of before. It's big and vaguely Byzantine). You can see him from home because they broadcast his arrival on TV all over the Netherlands and Belgium. On Sunday he parades through town on his white horse (apparently named Americo) and throws (unwraped!) candy to the kids who come to see him. It's important to note that he does this in every town (in the Netherlands AND Belgium). So to recap, parents, television and the government (which I have reason to believe subsidizes this extravaganza) conspire to convince children that:
a) A boat came from Spain.
b) It was carrying a saint on a horse.
And then they leave this elaborate ruse wide open by having one guy in every town at once.
Of course the Sint himself isn't throwing the candy, his reliable helpers the "Zwarte Pietje" do it for him. Those quick with Dutch translation know that these are "Black Petes." This is probably the most.... difficult part to get as an American. I accept that we are racially preoccupied as a country, but Black Petes are just a bunch of Dutch guys running around with black face (and hand) paint with big red lips, wearing "moorish" outfits and gold earrings. Apparently Pete is black from the soot of the chimneys he goes down delivering candy. Which he does EVERYNIGHT FOR THREE WEEKS. Yes, Sinterklaas and Piet go from rooftop to rooftop each night atop Americo delivering candy to children's eagerly waiting shoes. Typical candy seems to be anything with an almond base (there is so much damn marzipan in this city right now!) and chocolates in the shape of the first letter of the child's name. Something makes me think that stubbornly ignorant American children would reject such a candy as a subtle ploy to teach them to read. Perhaps I am disillusioned.
You're really only supposed to get candy if you're good. If you're bad you might get coal or sticks. And if you're really bad you might get put in a sack and taken back to Madrid with the Sint (I am working on my badness as I type). Apparently the sack and Spain treatment isn't particularly in favor anymore, but I can try!
On the eve of Saint Nicolas day (December 6) everyone exchanges presents and the daily candy bombardment stops (until Christmas 20 days later...). Sinterklaas is really the day for gifts, but they are supposed to be small and funny. In fact, my favorite part of the holiday is that you write rhyming poems for all of your friends and family. Poems!
I would certainly love to write some rhyming poems, but since my first final is due on Sinterklaas, I think I better not.
All in all, Sinterklaas is probably not that much stranger/ less probable than Santa, though the mythology and ceremony surrounding him is certainly more precise. Racism aside, it's cool the way everyone buys into it. And capitalists rejoice that Sinterklaas' arrival in the Netherlands is perfectly timed to kick off the holiday gift buying season!