A lot of my students have never heard of Christmas.
The whitest part of my day is me.
The trees around me are adorned with coconuts and tropical fruit.
The Christmas decorations you do see are all red - no green.
Bustling motorbikes and soi dogs are the closest thing we'll get to a reindeer and sleigh, but when I arrive at school and 'Santa' has left me a box of cookies and a hand written note on school paper, I feel Christmas.
Christmas in Thailand is not like Christmas in America, for obvious reasons. We didn't do that whole Black Friday thing and the mall is just packed with the usual tourists. I haven't heard a holiday a song yet, I'll probably be eating Pad Thai or a noodle bowl as my Christmas feast, and I'm telling the students that Santa hasn't delivered presents in the past because Thai houses don't have chimneys. (Thank you, Geoff Carter, for a run down on explaining Santa to children.)
I can't keep track of months, let alone holidays, anymore. I feel disconnected from the west, but that's okay. I love where I am, even if it takes children wishing me Merry Christmas on the wrong day or giving me heart shaped balloons as Christmas gifts, to remind me of the season.
That's part of it though, isn't it? As we scatter around the globe or pursue different courses in life, reunions become more difficult. Responding to my childish dreams of having everyone together at one time, my friend told me via e-mail to get my head out of the clouds. Hey, I'm an 8 year old and I just want my family - a marvelous collection of friends, in addition to my sister, parents, and relatives - to rejoin and share food, stories, and laughter around the holidays, but like I said, I like to dream. Maybe it's even one of the few times that I've really felt the magic of Christmas - truly appreciating the magic of bringing together family and friends. I'm finding, amongst Thai interpretations of western holidays and a weekend of climbing and beach time, that regardless of my placement, I still feel Christmas.
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