La Navidena: Christmas in Mexico City

First Sunday in Advent
November 28, 2010

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Ev'rywhere you go; Take a look in the five-and-ten, glistening once again
With candy canes and silver lanes aglow.

On this first Sunday of Advent in Mexico City it is beginning to look a lot Christmas.

In the days preceding the weekend, I began to notice street stalls being set up all over town. These stalls would be set up for a month than taken down.

All sorts of wonderful things were for sale:

Fresh Frasier Firs flown down from Canada or harvested here in the highlands above Mexico City;

Strings of garish-colored Christmas lights, almost all made in Mexico;

Beautiful hand painted Christmas ornaments that I just have to have buy can’t yet figure out how to carry home without breaking them;

Handmade Nativity Stables in all sizes, along with sheets of freshly harvested moss or newly dried hay to lay on their floors;

Wonderful multi-colored garlands made from palm branches.

A huge assortment of clay nativity figures: The Holy Family, of course, as well as shepherds and the Wise Men, but also animals, shrubbery, and means of transport.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Ev'rywhere you go;
There's a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well,
The sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow.

On Saturday morning, here in my neighborhood of Coyocán, thirty minutes south of the center, stalls had been set up surrounding the park in the center of town. Walking through the park, in shorts on a sunny 70 degree day, I was jolted back to the North Country as I inhaled the fragrant pine scent of fir trees. People were buying all sorts of things, including trees which would be bundled up, loaded on to the top of a car, and transported home. All day Sunday the streets were full of cars bearing fresh trees that would be set up and decorated later that day.

That night, walking to Sumesa, my neighborhood grocery store, I could see trees lit up in people’s living rooms.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas;
Soon the bells will start,
And the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing
Right within your heart.

It was a splendid first weekend of Advent, although I was told that the official start of Christmas won’t be until after our Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, December 12th. That has certainly not curtailed shoppers and retailers from getting an early start.

I’m excited to watch Christmas unfold even more.

Second Sunday In Advent
December 5, 2010

There doesn't seem to be any limit to what Mexico City will do the observe Christmas. It was a great weekend.

Friday night I went to a concert in the southern part of the city with a later dinner at a nearby mall. Now, this mall is soooooooooooooo big that there are two cineplexes and two food courts in it. It must take up ten football fields. Perhaps it's my lack of experience with urbans shopping malls, but it was decorated like no mall I've ever seen--a huge, fifty foot Christmas tree in the center, long lines of families waiting to have their pictures taken with Santa. It was great!

The sun is shining.
The grass is green.
There’s never been such a day in Mexico City
But it’s early December and I’m longing to be up north.

I’m dreaming of a white….

Wait, uh? White? Snow? Cold? Uh, let’s back up a bit…..

NO WAY!

Christmas in Mexico City means brilliantly blue, cloudless days in the mid 70’s with nights that drop into the 40’s.

Christmas in Mexico City means the city is decked out in millions of Christmas lights, giant Christmas trees in green parks, poinsietta trees in full bloom in people's gardens and piped Christmas music in malls and supermarkets.

Christmas in Mexico City mean shopping in shorts, buying fresh flowers from street vendors and browsing through the thousands of Puestos de Navidad—Christmas stalls.

I love it!

Consider this weekend, the second Sunday in Advent.

Sunday afternoon I wandered into the Zocalo, Mexico City’s enormous public square. I knew I’d be in for a surprise.

But what a surprise! The Zocalo had been transformed into a Christmas/Winter wonderland. There were two skating rinks, a toboggan slide, a snow field where kids could make snowballs and throw them at each other, another snowfield where kids could ride little snowmobiles on a snow track, a place where people could make muñecas de nieve--snow dolls—a.k.a. snowmen. But best…a snow museum where, once inside, it was 5 degree above zero—Fahrenheit.

Oh, I was just like a kid. I couldn’t absorb it all. I’d do the loop, and then do it again. A white Christmas in Mexico City. I’d stop, take lots of photos, move on, and take more photos. There were huge bleachers where bystanders could watch those skating. It was just magic.

So much magic that I had to take a break. The Zocalo is also located near heaps and heaps and heaps of stores selling all sorts of stuff. Because it was a Sunday, there were heaps and heaps and heaps of people on the street. The controlled chaos was astonishing. Heaps of stores were selling all sorts of Christmas decorations—artificial trees in all colors: red, pink, blue, green, purple, white, silver, and gold. Even black. And wreaths of the most garish kind made of leaves painted the same colors as the trees. And ornaments, tinsel, garlands, lights. It was wondrous.

On the streets, vendors were hawking everything imaginable. I bought a scarf for 25 pesos--$2.00—and handed the man a 200 peso note.

“You rich, man,” he said in English. No, not really. How’s business?

It’s a bad year. Bad economy. No people buying.

He struggled to find the change to break my note.

More shopping, a long dinner. I had to kill time so I could get back to the Zocalo at night. I’d seen heaps and heaps and heaps of lights on the public buildings surrounding the square. And oh, I wasn't disappointed. Huge piñatas, poinsettias, candles—even a gigantic lit up manger scene. Here in Mexico it’s totally politically correct to say MERRY CHRISTMAS—Feliz Navidad--without fear of offending someone. Indeed, Feliz Navidad can be loosely translate as “Happy is the Day when the Lord was born.”

All the venues were busy. Families were skating, making snowmen; kids were riding snowmobiles and throwing snowballs at each other; others were sledding down the makeshift snow slide. And the line going into the Snow Museum—long. Just to experience -15 C.

I hated to go home, but it was late and Mexico City gets rather cold at night and I wasn’t dressed properly.

I knew I’d be back.

Third Sunday in Advent
December 12, 2010

Azaleas! Azaleas in December. Azaleas are just now coming into flower.

But this is not about azaleas, although it’s been amazing to watch the different varieties send off their blooms.

This is about Nacimientos, Our Lady of Guadalupe, and La Casa de los Amigos. Que fin de semana! What a weekend!

Away in a Manger

No crib for a bed

The litle Lord Jesus

Lay down his sweet head.

A local acquaintance, who’s lived in the United States, and who knows American culture, commented to me this week that the difference between Christmas in the US and Christmas in Mexico boils down to Santa Claus vs. Jesus. “In America,” he said, “it’s all about Santa Claus, whereas in Mexico it’s all about the baby. After seeing hundreds of nativity sets—nacimientos—in every possible location, I’d have to agree.

Nacimientos are everywhere—in offices, under trees in hotel lobbies, in the barber shop, in grocery stores, on the front lawns of government buildings, at bus stations, in restaurants, in huge lighted displays on the main avenues of the Mexico City and at the uty free shops at airport just to name a few places. No one is offended; indeed, if they were present I’m sure there would be absolute furor. What I don’t see much of are images of Santa and the more secular side of Christmas, although they are present

The stars in the bright sky
Looked down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus
Asleep on the hay

Friday night I decided to walk from La Casa to Chapultepec, Mexico City’s Central Park. It’s a long walk, primarily along Paseo de la Reforma, the city’s principal street—its Fifth Avenue—and a walk made more enjoyable with a long break at Starbucks, sitting outside in the late afternoon sunshine, people watching and drinking a calorie-laden Caramel Frappucino smothered in a topping of whipped cream—the only “coffee” I’ll drink.

I took my time with the coffee, waiting for night to fall when I knew Christmas lights would be turned on along the street. The city had strung up thousands of blue lights on each side of the Avenida and had punctuated the walk with Christmas trees, and huge hanging lighted displays of poinsettias and piñatas. I also knew the city had established a competition among the different delegaciones, or governing neighborhoods, of the city. In all, there were 50, large and hand crafted, nacimientos—all with a different design theme. Some were made only of recycled materials and others were made only from fabric, papier maché or cardboard. My favorite was a nativity designed solely from twisted wire, and my favorite theme was a nacimiento with the principal characters as aliens. If there are other inhabited worlds, it explained, Jesus would most surely have come to them, too.

The cattle are lowing
The poor Baby wakes
But little Lord Jesus
No crying He makes

Reforma required another visit Saturday afternoon, but I was really saving my energy for that night’s all-nighter at the Basilica of Guadalupe. I wanted to be part of the millions of devotees who would be present on December 12th—the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This was so overwhelming, so utterly remarkable, so bigger-than-life that it bears a separate blog, so you must read the next posting.

Suffice to say that no one in our group got home before 4:00 a.m., so Sunday morning was a wash.

But Sunday night, mi última noche en México, my last night in the city, La Casa was hosting an early Christmas party with a one hour carol-sing, Villancicos, followed by food and drink. How wonderful to be part of this community at this level. Over 100 people came—mostly Mexicans, Quakers and friends of the La Casa. We sang carols I’d never heard, some familiar, but in Spanish and other, familiar and in English. I cried more than once--thinking back to other Christmases. I cried with happiness to be so blessed as to have found this small, yet warm and loving, little corner of Mexico City; and I cried knowing how different this Christmas would be from all others. But, I firmly believe, we are exactly where we are supposed to be, and my participation in the community has been no accident.

I lingered over food and Ponche, a hot-mulled Christmas drink specific to Mexico, that’s made from the fruit of the Jamaica flower and tamarind and aromatic spinces. In the end I said goodbye to my new-found friends, left La Casa and walked over to the newly renovated Monument to the Revolution. I indulged in a caffeine-free Diet Coke and reminisced about the past seven weeks: the cruise, all those magnificent ports of call, a week in the sun on the Maya Riviera and a magical month in Mexico City. I soaked up my last few minutes in the city, watched a half-moon rise over this beautiful structure and silently whispered goodbye to México and this city that, over multiple visits, I have come to love. I’d decided to come home early.

My time in Mexico had come to an end.

Christmas is, after all, best spent with the ones we love.