Just when I thought there would be no Christmas ...
Many of you may know I hate the holidays.
I just don't care for all the commercialized appeal of Christmas, though I admire the companies that make a point to not mention the word and opt for "Happy Holidays."
I don't like the crowds everywhere you go, hate the fact that governments shut down for 14 days for a damned "holiday season" and the whole United States seems to stop dead in its tracks because, "it's Christmas."
I hate the fact that all the regular TV shows I would want to watch are postponed so crappy Christmas specials can be shown, with the exception of a Bing Crosby taking a break from beating one of his children to sing "Little Drummer Boy" with David Bowie.
So I've been relatively happy living in a Muslim country this year where people don't even know what Christmas means.
It's been nice walking down the street unpolluted with decorations that have been up since October about special "Holiday Bargains."
It's been nice not hearing the Christian Evangelicals piss and moan because stores choose to not celebrate their religious holiday, opting for a secular version that people used to enjoy, as they call for boycotts.
And it's been nice not having to get up on a ladder and deal with heights that frighten me every other day of the year to put up lights. (Sorry Mom, but you know I hate doing that.)
The only thing I miss is the food and an excuse to wear a cheesy sweater (which we really should stop making Christmas an excuse for. But my proposed "Bill Cosby Day" has yet to be taken seriously by any member of Congress, so Christmas will have to do.)
But then I opened the circular advertisement for Migros, a large chain of stores here in Turkey, to see fucking Christmas decorations.
"What the hell are these doing here?" I angrily asked my school's principal.
She explained those decorations, such as a tree with ornaments and lights, pictures of Santa Claus and shit like bells and tinsel, are for New Years.
Many of you may know, years ago, I gave up celebrating Christmas and took to the holiday of Festivus. I haven't looked back.
But I thought I would miss Christmas entirely here in a secular Muslim country. What the hell?
Besides, New Years is all about booze, Auld Lang Syne and Dick Clark, may he rest in peace. (He's dead right?)
(Informal prediction: More than 60 percent of you reading this do not know without the use of Google whether Dick Clark is still alive.)
I feel like standing in the middle of the town center and shouting, "This wasn't part of the deal."
But there I was teaching a class full of 10-12 year olds Friday afternoon and needing something that could grab their attention. Any subject, as long as we're speaking English, and preferably using large numbers, colors and country names they've learned about in the last few weeks.
Fine. We'll learn about Christmas.
Since their vocabulary is somewhat limited and I refuse to speak Turkish in class, I left out the whole message about Jesus' Birth, which any Discovery, National Geographic or History Channel documentary will tell you really happened somewhere around March to June.
We talked briefly about Santa Claus, then I drew a ghetto Holiday Tree (take that Religious Right) on the board and had students make ornaments they placed on there.
The lesson wasn't all that educational, but it killed an hour and a half.
Christmas had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The instant anger I felt looking at the shopping advertisement was gone, and I realized the true meaning of Christmas.
Exploiting it for whatever you want.
Happy Festivus,
James
P.S. In the next issue of LoughrieDoesTurkey, an open letter to Santa Claus.
I just don't care for all the commercialized appeal of Christmas, though I admire the companies that make a point to not mention the word and opt for "Happy Holidays."
I don't like the crowds everywhere you go, hate the fact that governments shut down for 14 days for a damned "holiday season" and the whole United States seems to stop dead in its tracks because, "it's Christmas."
I hate the fact that all the regular TV shows I would want to watch are postponed so crappy Christmas specials can be shown, with the exception of a Bing Crosby taking a break from beating one of his children to sing "Little Drummer Boy" with David Bowie.
So I've been relatively happy living in a Muslim country this year where people don't even know what Christmas means.
It's been nice walking down the street unpolluted with decorations that have been up since October about special "Holiday Bargains."
It's been nice not hearing the Christian Evangelicals piss and moan because stores choose to not celebrate their religious holiday, opting for a secular version that people used to enjoy, as they call for boycotts.
And it's been nice not having to get up on a ladder and deal with heights that frighten me every other day of the year to put up lights. (Sorry Mom, but you know I hate doing that.)
The only thing I miss is the food and an excuse to wear a cheesy sweater (which we really should stop making Christmas an excuse for. But my proposed "Bill Cosby Day" has yet to be taken seriously by any member of Congress, so Christmas will have to do.)
But then I opened the circular advertisement for Migros, a large chain of stores here in Turkey, to see fucking Christmas decorations.
"What the hell are these doing here?" I angrily asked my school's principal.
She explained those decorations, such as a tree with ornaments and lights, pictures of Santa Claus and shit like bells and tinsel, are for New Years.
Many of you may know, years ago, I gave up celebrating Christmas and took to the holiday of Festivus. I haven't looked back.
But I thought I would miss Christmas entirely here in a secular Muslim country. What the hell?
Besides, New Years is all about booze, Auld Lang Syne and Dick Clark, may he rest in peace. (He's dead right?)
(Informal prediction: More than 60 percent of you reading this do not know without the use of Google whether Dick Clark is still alive.)
I feel like standing in the middle of the town center and shouting, "This wasn't part of the deal."
But there I was teaching a class full of 10-12 year olds Friday afternoon and needing something that could grab their attention. Any subject, as long as we're speaking English, and preferably using large numbers, colors and country names they've learned about in the last few weeks.
Fine. We'll learn about Christmas.
Since their vocabulary is somewhat limited and I refuse to speak Turkish in class, I left out the whole message about Jesus' Birth, which any Discovery, National Geographic or History Channel documentary will tell you really happened somewhere around March to June.
We talked briefly about Santa Claus, then I drew a ghetto Holiday Tree (take that Religious Right) on the board and had students make ornaments they placed on there.
The lesson wasn't all that educational, but it killed an hour and a half.
Christmas had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The instant anger I felt looking at the shopping advertisement was gone, and I realized the true meaning of Christmas.
Exploiting it for whatever you want.
Happy Festivus,
James
P.S. In the next issue of LoughrieDoesTurkey, an open letter to Santa Claus.
posted by James at 7:46 PM
2 Comments:
This shit is all over Dalian. It's worse than back home. Granted, no one is complaining about the secular nature of the holiday, and the Chinese definitely have the exploitation part of it down. The glare from all the neon xmas trees is just starting to give me a migraine.
As Bart said: "Aren't we forgeting the true meaning of Christmas? You know, the birth of Santa."
Oh, and Dick Clark is alive and selling his old crap. Yes, I Googled it, but I knew he was alive. He's probably powered by the same pixie dust that keeps Dick Cheney chugging along. Old Dick just seems to burn it a little cleaner.
Post a Comment
<< Home