The Spirit of Making Do

By Andrea park

I really wanted to go home for Christmas in December. Even though I’ve lived abroad before, I’ve always managed to make it back to the United States in time for the holidays. This year, when my parents generously booked me a ticket just in time for New Year’s, I was grateful to be able to go back to the States at all.

Many of my expat friends warned me that the holiday season occurs without much fanfare in Beijing, and that it never really feels like Christmas. Despite passing Tianyi Market every day on my way to work, a market bedecked in multicolored lights and kitschy animal decorations, with about a dozen Chinese men dressed as Santa ringing hand bells out front, my friends were right: it just wasn’t the same.

Holiday cheer in the United States is definitely excessive; 24-hour Christmas music blares from every corner as soon as Thanksgiving ends, and every store, commercial and even home reminds you with bobbing reindeer and wreaths that ‘tis the season to be jolly. I never thought I’d miss Christmas music until Beijing last month. The city’s not without holiday charm, but in the West, it seems like everybody’s lives revolve around parties, flights home and festive shopping.

Originally, I planned to skip Christmas in Beijing. My family promised me they would organize a makeup dinner when I got home,so it seemed to be a non-issue for me. But one day, my French roommate valerie asked if I’d be willing to buy a Christmas tree with her. She said that having a real pine tree in the house was her favorite part of this time of year, and that because her birthday fell right after Christmas,it was also her family tradition to keep the tree until after celebrations ended because she oved it so much. She was working late nearly seven days a week and didn’t have time to get the tree herself, and I couldn’t begrudge her a birthday and Christmas tradition.

So one morning, I woke up early and went to Liangmaqiao Flower Market, one of the only places in Beijing that sells real Christmas trees. I bought a 2-meter pine tree, still potted in some earth, lights and ornaments, and two poinsettia plants—big red flowers omnipresent during the American holiday season. Once the tree was set up in our living room, valerie and I strung up white lights, metallic plexiglass balls,golden mesh orbs, glittery little drums and wire stars. When valerie topped the tree with the star and I turned on the lights, suddenly, that thing that had been missing these past few weeks appeared—my Christmas spirit. It sounds schmaltzy, but it’s true. I hadn’t felt any sort of enthusiasm for the holiday until I saw our pretty tree all lit up, and every day as I walked home from the subway station, I looked forward to seeing it through my window. It reminded me of the times I went with my brother and father to pick a Christmas tree and took it home to decorate it with my mom. The fragrant scentbrought forth flashbacks of trying so hard to keep my eyes open on Christmas Eve so I could catch a glimpse of Santa. They say olfactory triggers are among the strongest for long-term memories, and smelling the tree in my living room brought back a flood of holiday imagery.

Two of my friends in Beijing have birthdays on Christmas Eve, so I spent that night with them and our other friends, drinking wine and eating an entire year’s worth of dessert in one sitting. Drinking with friends is not exactly a Christmas Eve tradition, but the evening was warm and cheery. On the day, my friend held an enormous party at his apartment—over 50 people attended. There’s nothing homey about dozens of 20 and 30-something year old expats milling around for Christmas,but when you’re away from your family, it’s a relief to be around lots of people who are just as homesick as you are and to be able to commiserate with other foreigners about family traditions and the alienation of spending the holidays away from home.

I’m not going to say that spending Christmas with friends is the same as spending it with family, because it de finitely is not. But this year, it looked and felt like Christmas, albeit the lack of holiday frills and change of setting. We created our own Christmas bubbles inside our homes as native Beijingers barely celebrated,and filled the void with conversation and companionship. It wasn’t the same, but it was close,and it was merry. ■