A Christmas Carol, Version Y2K22

Do you know what’s better than Christmas in a warm, sun drenched, blue skied, endless-horizoned space, one with swims to cool down in, listless insects hovering over icy glasses of Chenin Blanc, braai fires and garlicky prawns, rolling highveld thunderstorms, and a setting sun with golden fingertips reaching over the west coast ocean, tumbling down the Drakensberg mountain peaks, and across the dusty gold fields of the capital?

Nothing.

Nothing except sparkling blinking coloured lights after the sun has disappeared and the dark nights that closet us behind our frosty windows.
Nothing except aromatic spices of cinnamon, aniseed and cloves mingling into pots of steaming wine and apple juice, spicy gingerbread men and crepes & waffles are dripping with chocolate spread and lashings of snowy white sugar. Cream and French cheese and bacon fill the gleaming steaming black and copper pots, their warm scents drifting across the freezing cold night air, a welcome reward to the short winter days.

So when one of those gets taken out of the Joy Equation, you know things are out of balance and it’s going to be more of A Christmas Carol season than it has ever been. Cue up a rather obnoxious Christmas Grinch stomping across bridges and canals with furious mumblings erupting from my ears…

It’s our 10th festive season in a part of the world dedicated to the story books impressions of what Christmas is: crisp white snow, lights twinkling on dark frosty evenings, families and friends gathering behind walls and windows, or simply being able to don coats and scarves and meander around the magical nights.

Post-virus, this year Europe sees a return to Christmas like years before: throngs of tourists clambering and scrabbling and flocking to this magical wonderland, each seeking to soak up and immerse themselves into the mystery and beauty and spectacle.

This passing Sunday I had a free half hour after a shift at work, a free half hour while I waited to join my family. Since we moved out to the suburbs of Strasbourg 5 years ago, I miss out on a spontaneous quick foray into the den of gastronomical and illuminatory delights, so I decided to take the opportunity to take in the sights: Le Grand Sapin at Place Kleber, the Swarovski chandeliers that hang over Rue des Hallbardes, the newer Moravian Stars that hang in the trees along the Quai des Pecheurs. I adore the atmosphere that the lights generate, it’s what allowed me to forget the warmer sunnier Christmas of which I was so accustomed to in South Africa. It became the source of my compromise 10 years ago when I was longing for home.

Granted, I was always selective of those occasions I would dip into a vin chaud and tartiflette; week nights, mid morings, always when there were less people and tourists. It became an immense bliss.

Alas, Real Life (not expat life) doesn’t allow me the same freedom. A regular working job, the rush and grind, always rushing home to see the little bodies that need us the most- I have to set time aside to absorb this annual cultural experience. And for the last 4 years, while I might miss out on the vendors selling their wares, I’ve always been able to take a late night stroll through the city when the tourists are mostly back home, and I simply get to soak up the illumination that has always brought me so much happiness.

Nonetheless, new job aside, I shall endeavour to seek out the joy of Christmas in Alsace, so I headed into the foray.

What is normally a 15 minute stroll from my work to the other side of the island turned out to be a fight for a route free from an Influencer friend trying to make space around their partner, back to their camera while staring up at the magical snow falling over their shoulders. There is no snow, yet somehow those photos shared and reshared will have tumbling snowflakes and I’ve had to stop my journey, not to appreciate the lights, but to wait for someone to take a photo, all the while getting bumped by another tourist as they push passed. Countless times over I mutter obscenities under my breath, claiming my stake as a local, and please can I just have my own city back? I hear deep Slavic sounding accents, I hear the chatter of the Italian lilt and the Spanish staccato, and I know that its the first time they get to see these wonders and delights, and I’m torn between enjoying their response, while still being annoyed at the space they seem to take up. For it has been myself that has stood in wonder at the window dressings above shop fronts, stood and listened to the various choirs that carol in various squares. Just not this year.

However, despite my spiteful misgivings, largely the result of 10 hours on my feet after 5 hours of sleep, the real reason I am fighting my way through throngs of tourists is that this year the Christmas lights do not shine brightly all night long like they have always done in the past, and therefore if I want to be able to take my own (erm, artistic) photos for posterity, I have decided to take the opportunity to do so on a Sunday night while in town.

Alas, this is a rather hashtag-first-world-problem I’m about to whinge about, so either close this page if you’re not interested in my bleatings, but.

Rising costs in electricity due to the war in the east has – albeit quite reasonably- put a bit of a dampener on Christmas. There was chatter in October and November about our electricity in our homes being metered out. In other words, we would either have to reduce our usage as we headed into winter or we simply wouldn’t have enough. Added to that conundrum was the fact that the cost of fuel and gas has also increased by amounts way more than normal, so all in, we have been preparing for a costly, cold winter. We turned our home central heating on a little later than usual, and have set delay timers on all of our machines so that they run at 2 in the morning, as opposed to peak times. Obviously it’s not enough, but we’re trying. As for the costs, we are gratefully in a position to absorb these costs, but I did read recently that the costs of heating and energy has actually been absorbed more by business’ than private homes- ie, city municipalities are paying more for energy this winter. And it’s for this reason that our city’s eco-concerned mayoress has put measures in place to overcome this.

Met ander woorde: she has disapproved the Christmas lights burning bright all night long. Instead they are switched off by 10pm, and this (Yours Truly) little joyless citizen has to cycle home at midnight in the cold, without so much as a Moravian Star to light the way.

Do you know how we’re all inclined to get lost in a moment of annoyance, selfishly spitting out vitriolic malice, and we just need a moment to clear our heads? That’s what this has been. I know full well that tourists are good for the city, and if I don’t want to rub shoulders with them, or try not to gape (or cringe) when I see one lady removing her warm coat so that her boyfriend can take a photo of her wearing something cute and sexy in front of the charismatic shop window in sub zero temperatures, that I should simply choose a different time to appreciate what’s on offer. I should, and do, also realise that my own needs to take a photo worthy of artists on the ‘gram is entirely off kilter and a waste of my mental energy, so I should stop creating drama for my mind. And the truth is, we are in the midst of an energy and ecological crisis, so small changes will become big changes and soon we’ll forget the splendour of All Night Christ Lights. And obviously, I’m really not actually cycling home at midnight in the dark- the streets are lit as ever before, something we have simply taken for granted and not taken into account that our city DOES work for us, and that I have safe cycle routes to travel on.

So this year I doubt I’ll be sharing the same ol’ same ol’ photos of our family in front of the Great Christmas Tree, or Place Kleber under an atmospheric grey and sun-hidden morning. Instead if I share any photo’s to mark the passing of another season, they will all have a million heads bobbing around at the bottom of the photo- unavoidable but real. It will serve as a reminder of this year in particular, a year that has unfolded many more experiences than I thought it would. A year with visitors and trips, a year with new jobs and new people in it, a year fraught with emotions I have long since put away, and simply this essay of shameful selfishness is simply another outpouring of work space angst, or the result of being cooped up there after 2 years of being home during that pandemic era.

Like I said, it’s been a year.

On that note, I’ll bid you adieu. I have an afternoon of baking ahead and hopefully I’ll stay awake this afternoon to appreciate the setting sun as we actually have sun for a change. I have some leave coming through next week so maybe I’ll take my camera to town for Monday night drinks with a friend, and all will be well by the end of the year. 😉