A Mexican Christmas Celebration in Ontario's Countryside: Year 2

Last year, I wrote about the Posada - a Mexican pre-Christmas celebration - which was celebrated in the village of Linwood, hosted by St. Mary's Catholic Church. This year, my wife and I (especially my wife) organized the a Posada at St. Mary's for the second time.

A special thanks to my parents who prepared the delicious Mexican food!

We celebrated the Posada on Dec. 15, so it's almost old news by now!  In the next few days I'll share pictures of features of the Mexican Christmas celebration which we're importing to our new home, Ontario.


Here are some pictures.

Making pinatas:

The dialogue with the Innkeeper.

This is the central part of the Posada, which means "Inn." The story of Joseph and Mary looking for an inn in Bethlehem is reenacted.

As you can see, the turnout was lower than last year due to inclement weather conditions.  Yet, including those who went inside and skipped the carols and dialogue, I think we had about 60 - 70 people:

 Mary and Joseph.

Like last year, we one-upped Mexico by having a real girl on a real horse with a real Joseph leading her through town. (In Mexico, they usually just carry figurines:)

 Enjoying dinner:

 The band.

This is a new addition, thanks to my godfather. (Here, we would usually say "sponsor" but I think the Mexican term "padrino" which translates as "godfather" has more meaning:)

Breaking the pinatas:

 

Kids collecting the candies:

And last but not least, grandpa with a baby:

Up next, Christmas Eve dinner and/or Epiphany.

A Mexican Chistmas Celebration (Posada) in Ontario's Countryside

Now that Christmas time is here, I finally have some time to write again, as well as some nice events to write about.

First and foremost, one of the most exciting events to celebrate the coming of Christmas was a Mexican Posada. In Mexico, the tradition is that during the 9 days leading up to Christmas, neighbours and extended families will gather to act out the story of Joseph and Mary looking for an inn in Bethlehem, followed by a celebration with food, hot drinks and piñatas. The celebration is called a Posada, which is the Spanish word for “inn.”

In our village here Ontario, we celebrated a Posada on Sunday, Dec. 16.  The priest at our parish first proposed the idea of holding this celebration here a few weeks before.

He had heard about these events, and had been excited to hold one; when he found out that my wife is Mexican, he thought it was an excellent opportunity to bring this rich Mexican tradition to Ontario's countryside!  Several people from our parish and from the rest of the community worked together to organize certain parts of the event.  The priest played the key roll of bringing the various people together and covering some of the central details, for which we're very thankful!


In the Mexican fashion, the first part of the celebration was held outside; starting at the main intersection, people carried candles and sung Christmas carols walking about 4 blocks to the parish.  In Mexico, a couple of people are usually designated to hold little figures of Joseph and Mary (usually the ones from a household nativity scene.)  However, the community went all out, and Mary, (a roll taken by a local teen) arived on horse-back, being led by her brother who took the role of Joseph.

Arriving at the church, following the Mexican tradition, Joseph and Mary (and the rest of the crowd) was greeted by a less-than-welcoming Innkeeper.  After a back and forth dialogue in which the Innkeeper even threatened to give Joseph a beating (translated from the original Mexican songs), the Innkeeper finally realized that Joseph’s wife was Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and gave them a warm welcome, inviting them and the crowd inside for food and drink.

The celebration followed in the church basement. My parents provided Mexican food ("gordas" and a type of enchiladas), with additional snacks provided by some ladies from the church.  There were also plenty of candies, cake and coffee to go around!

The atmosphere was festive and everyone present had a good time!  At one point, a woman stood up and led the group in song.

After dinner and desert, 3 large piñatas were brought out and smashed by blind-folded children holding a broom handle.  My family and I had prepared the pinatas; this was a bit of an adventure in itself since it was our first go a making them.

They turned out well and looked good, but I had used the wrong kind of string; at the time of breaking them, 2 of them fell to the ground at the first hit!  Since one of them didn't break, I tossed it up into the air, and one kid swung at it like a baseball.  Candies flew everywhere and the kids were excited.


Despite drizzly weather, the turn out for the event was considerable; our priest had expected about 30 people, and prepared food for about 50, thinking the left overs could be sent home.  My wife and I suspected that this would overkill, and would've been quite happy to see 25 people.


However, approximately 95 people were counted at the mealtime, and most of these had joined the procession and carol singing!  When the group arrived at the church, extra tables had to be set up, almost filling the space available.  Fortunately, the food was enough to go around, and there were even some leftovers.  The priest and some others said something about the story of the fish and loaves.

Members of St. Mary’s Parish, neighbours from Linwood, residents of St. Clements and even an entire table of visitors from Toronto were among those attending the event. (Both Catholics and non-Catholics joined in.)

Leaving the event, many people commented on looking forward to repeating the Posada next year.  With the excellent turn-out and the festive spirit of all who attended, we're definitely planning to repeat the Posada in years to come, making plans to accommodate a larger group!

My family followed up on this event with a little Posada just at our own home with only a handful of people, on Christmas Eve.  It seems that a fairly wide-spread Catholic practice is to leave the manger empty in Nativity Scenes until Christmas Eve, when the Baby Jesus is placed in the manger.  The Mexican version of this tradition combines it with the last Posada on the night of Dec. 24.

As Mexican families will do, three people were outside holding the figures of Mary, Joseph and Jesus; when they were allowed in by the "innkeeper" (those of us inside), the entire family gathered around the nativity scene and the person holding the figure of Jesus (my oldest son in this case) placed him in the manger as we sang Christmas carols!  This final Posada usually comes after the Christmas Eve Mass and "kicks off" the Christmas celebrations (dining, music, dancing, etc.) which, in Mexico, can last till dawn.

I'll write about our household Christmas celebrations another day.

Mexican Beers - 2 of My Favorites

I don't have a whole to do on weekend evenings these days.  I'm in Mexico, without my family.  I've forgotten what it's like to be alone and go out and do stuff.  I feel like I should be changing a diaper, or doing the laundry. (Come to think of it, I do need to do the laundry.  Funny how I forget about that when I'm alone.)

In order to save money, I've limited myself to visiting some old acquaintances here (who also seem to stay at home with nothing to do), or, in the case of this evening, buy some beer to take home and drink it while reading (and writing) blogs.

Today, while reading some good pages, I've been enjoying two of my favourties: Leon, and - probably tied as my favourite Mexican beer - Negra Modelo.  The other favourite is Noche Buena, which is a special Bock beer sold only at Christmas time; the name means "Christmas Eve" and "Poinsettia," which is the logo of the brand.  Unfortunately, it's still much too early to find Noche Buena.

All of these are dark beers, which tend to be my preference.  However, a good Mexican light-coloured beer is Pacifico, which was originally a contribution from German (or more correctly, German Bohemian) immigrants in the north-west of the country (specifically Mazatlan) who also gave Mexico it's famous Banda music; this music - even in it's countryfied, popified versions - still carries the tradition of the triple beat (ump-pa-pa), the accordion and bass which are so characteristic of the famous Polka brought by the unMexican immigrants.

For most of us, it's rather strange to make any connection between German and Mexican cultures; the seem to be rather polar opposites in so many ways; but there it is, real and unmistakeable - both in the beer and the music.  (Incidentally, my own Germanic roots have come through Mexico.)

The German taste for strength, flavour and distinction combine well with the Mexican taste for easy smoothness and a happy life. (Yes, that's my description of Noche Buena, and applies to Pacifico as well; it could also be a description of parts of my life.)

Cheers!  Prost! and Salud!

(P.S. Still no memory card for the camera; but I remembered that my laptop can take pictures too!  The only problem is it's not convenient for taking pictures in the street.  The memory card will come tomorrow.)

Mexican Beer for Christmas Eve

Noche Buena Beer and A Nativity Scene

Mexico has special beer that’s only sold for a month or two before Christmas. It’s called “Noche Buena” which is both the name for Christmas Eve, and for the poinsettia flower. It’s a dark, bock-style beer with a strong, semi-bitter flavour, and it’s an important part of Mexico’s Christmas Eve celebrations (traditionally taking place at midnight, so technically on Christmas Day.)

Smashing the Seven Deadly Sins, and Other Observations about Piñatas

A little girl, destroying the seven deadly sins.

Recently I heard of an interesting explanation for the Mexican tradition of piñatas at posadas (see also my post from two days ago: "Why didn't you tell me you were the Virgin Mary?") Traditional piñatas have seven points on them, which represent the seven deadly sins.  The piñata is smashed during Advent and at Christmas to represent the victory over sin that Christ's birth promised.

Of course, to the children and adults hitting the piñata, the only thought in mind is breaking it open to rush for the falling candies, but the idea is out there.

So, here are some pictures of the piñata from our recent posada.  The piñata in the pictures has 5 points, but right after we had a larger one with seven points.

By the way, notice how I'm standing between the child with the stick and the other children, who seemed oblivious to the fact that a passionately swinging stick meant to smash a piñata could hurt them.  A neighbour later told me that these attempts at organization and safety showed how "European" or "American" (i.e. not "Mexican" or "Latin") I was.  Apparently an injured child is part of the routine.

"We try to control the kids, but they just don't listen," is the usual explanation.  I guess destroying sin has its price.  Since there were no injuries, it looks like this year I spoiled part of the tradition! (Needless to say, everyone was happy about that part!)

My son, giving it all to put a hole in the piñata.

Kids rushing for the candies falling from heaven.  See the rewards of battling sin?

All the neighbours from our street for a group photo.

"Why didn't you tell me you were the Virgin Mary?"

Would your recognize the Virgin Mary?

This weekend, I participated in my fourth Mexican "posada," which is a communal re-enactment of the scene where Joseph and Mary arrive to Bethlehem and look for a place to stay, which take place during the 9 days before Christmas.  The re-enactment is followed by a party where a very traditional hot fruit punch is served to all those who participate, along with snacks, a pinata and other elements of Mexican festivities (=loud music & tequila.)

In the Mexican re-enactment, a group of neighbours and friends from the community get together, light candles, and show up at the door of a the person hosting the party.  The people outside with candles play the role of Joseph and Mary (it doesn't matter how many people there are)  and the people inside are the innkeeper.  The re-enactment is in the form of a song where each "role" sings short verses in response to each.

Joseph asks for a place to stay, the innkeeper sends him away, threatening a beating if doesn't leave.  Joseph implores him for the sake of his pregnant wife and finally, 12 verses later, convinces him to let them in.  Everyone enters singing joyfully of the night Christ was born.  I've been to some (like last night) where a prayer is said, then the punch is served, etc.

Last night I especially noticed Joseph's final method of convincing the innkeeper:

"My wife Mary is Queen of Heaven, and will be the mother of the Word Divine."

The interesting part is actually the innkeeper's response, after so vehemently denying them service:

The festivities beginning, just after the re-enactment (my posada last night)

"Are you Joseph? Your wife is Mary? Enter, pilgrims. I did not know!"

If he had only known that it was Joseph and the Virgin Mary!  My first reaction to this is probably typical of a more reasonable Northerner; "What a silly little song! As if the innkeeper would've known or cared who Mary was."

Besides no mention of such a dialogue in the Bible, the idea that the innkeeper could've known who Mary the Queen of Heaven was is simply absurd and anachronistic.

But then I had a second thought. From what I understand, these plays are part of a long-standing Catholic tradition of re-enacting the Gospel, still very much alive during Advent and Easter time in Latin America and other some other Catholic areas.   On one hand, there's a cultural element here; everyone knows who the Virgin Mary is.  I'm guessing that one of the original purposes was to present these key stories to an illiterate population.  These re-enactments pull the events out of history and put them into Mexico in the current day and age where it only makes sense that all Joseph would have to do is identify his wife as the Virgin Mary.  The recognition of her roles and titles would also serve to teach and reinforce these concepts in addition to the story.

A Posada (not mine, just a good picture)

Purely for the sake of speculation, there might be something more to this.  The idea of "showing what happens" was (and is?) also the main idea behind religious icons, according to Pope Gregory I (6th century) among others.  I have also heard the Mass described in a function of "reenactment."  Both icons and the Mass show "historical events" in eternal terms, not merely placing the past into the present, but actually showing eternity within the framework of time. (The reason why icons of John the Baptist show him with his head firmly attached to his shoulders, but also holding his own head on a platter at the same time, and the reason why the Mass seems to "repeat" Christ's death and resurrection; it is not "repeated" but is eternity reflected in the framework of time.)

Perhaps there is an element of this idea behind the Catholic reenactments and the Mexican Posadas; in eternity, the innkeeper would know the significance of the event that's about to happen (the birth of Christ), and Mary would not be a simple Jewish girl from Galilee - she would already be The Queen of Heaven and the Mother of God (as is believed in Catholicism) and it would be necessary to recognize her as such.

I'm not sure if I'm taking this idea too far, but this "anachronism" becomes much more interesting when considered in these term.

Christmas in Mexico – Tequila, Tears, and Lots of Love

Musical Chairs (I'm in the purple sweater)

For this one I'll have to admit, it purely my personal experience, and I don't know if this is how Mexican Christmases usually are.

While living near Mexico City, I joined my wife's aunts, uncles and cousins for Christmas celebrations twice.

The celebrations started late Christmas Eve, and, if I remember correctly, we had attended mass before hand with my mother-in-law. The community where the aunts and uncles lived was about a 10 minute walk away. The community had been built up from cheap lots, in one of those places where residents built up, one storey at a time, little by little. It had been around long enough so the narrow roads were now lined with 2 and three storey homes, many flush to the side walk, and others with wrought-iron gates, almost all reasonably painted. While the community still has the distinct flavour of its working-class residents, and is by no means "nice" or "upscale," at Christmas time, with many homes decorated with lights, nativity scenes in the garages, to be seen between the bars of the gate, and Christmas trees to be seen through the windows, it holds a certain charm.


Upon arriving to the house where the great aunt and uncle lived, who are parents of the family  - an aging couple who partially raised my father-in-law - we were warmly greeted by all the family; my father-in-law's second cousins (who my wife calls aunts and uncles), their wives and children, some of whom were already married with infant children.

Some of the aunts, uncles and cousins chatting before dinner

After greeting everyone, and being made the center of attention for some reason or another (both difficult for me as an introvert - click here to read more) I was offered a variety of liquors.  By the second Christmas I spent with these uncles, I realized that I needed to make and express my choice quickly, otherwise various uncles would simply serve me the liquor of their choice (tequila, rum an whiskey are the ones I remember), meaning that I would have at least 3 shots waiting for me to drink them.  By the second Christmas, I also had baby, and it didn't seem like a good idea to be carrying a baby home for a 5 km walk (in case no taxi could be found) tipsy or drunk.  So, I learned I had to choose one, and sip it slowly, since the minute it was finished, another would be served, almost automatically.  At some point, one of the uncles would inevitably realize that I was going slow on the drinks, and urge me to finish, so I could start another, usually serving that other to push me a little more; this was, however, the only I way could discover to moderate the alcohol I was served.  (Of course, I did want to drink, just not too much.)

The large, long and delicious dinner included turkey, rice, various kinds of salad and gelatin, and something distinct to Mexico City's Christmas called "romeritos" (a thin, leafy vegetable cooked with mole and shrimp).

While dinner was being finished, one of the uncles stood up and gave a little speech.  The speech was mostly recalling good memories and thanking other family members.  The speech started with the usual happy but not very emotional tones that most such speeches start.  After a few minutes though, a memory of something very emotional arose (I didn't understand enough to get exactly what it was about) and the uncle began crying.  Soon other aunts, uncles and cousins were getting up to hug the first uncle, and making their own tearful speeches.

The first Christmas when this happened, I leaned over to my wife, asking if there had been some tragedy in the family.

"Nothing specific," she explained quietly. "This happens every year.  It's normal."

The second time I experienced the tearful speeches, I saw the same pattern, and felt assured in my wife's explanation.  I guess the combination of tequila, good food, having the whole family together again and sharing warm memories is a good recipe for letting your emotions flow.

The Piñata

The crying was over before dinner was cleaned up, and If I remember correctly, soon after dinner, a doll representing baby Jesus was brought out.  The doll placed in a sheet, and rocked while everyone sang songs to baby Jesus.  After the songs, each person in turn kissed the doll and made a wish. The tradition was fine for me, but in all honesty, I never liked the look of the dolls (click here to read more about that.)

At some point there was also a piñata, outside in the street, and a few rounds of musical chairs (see pictures).  I can't remember the exact order, though.

Afterwards, more tequila was served, some people mixing with grapefruit soda (Fresca or Squirt).  Some people began to dance in the small living room.

I can't remember exactly what time we left, but I remember that it was really late (not for the aunts and uncles - they were still ready to go longer), I was really tired and, despite my best intentions, I felt just a little tipsy from the liquor. There were a lot of hugs, thank yous, and invitations extending over the entire next year.  Fortunately, we found a taxi when we arrived at the main road.

While I'm not one for all night parties, I have to say that my Christmases in Mexico City were very memorable, warm and I felt a true welcome from my wife's family.

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas ...

Winter Day near St. Jacobs, Ontario

I'm someone who loves snow, and, up until recently, hated the beach. You might be wondering then, how did I end up living in Mexico, or even worse, Playa del Carmen.  I used to ask myself the same thing.  (The real reason was based in an adventurous-spirit driven decision, which, ironically, started the least adventurous, but probably most rewarding, part of my life.  Click here to read about adventurous spirits.)

I love just about everything about cold, snowy winters.  Tobogganing, skating, the white winter scenery, and, yes, even the cold.  I feel heat very easily, but I'm not too badly affected by the cold.  Last time I was in Canada for the winter (Christmas & New Year's 2008/2009) outside I usually wore only a sweater, a tuque and some thin gloves in addition to my usual clothes (running shoes replacing the usual sandals I've got used to since living down here.)  My wife, on the other hand,  was wearing long-johns, two pairs of pants, snow pants, 2 sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, a hat, two pairs of socks and winter boots, and still felt cold, even when indoors.  But she had never experienced temperatures below 5 degrees, so it was understandable.

I miss making snowmen and snow angles, going on snowy winter walks, and seeing hoar frost on the trees.   I miss seeing the unreal bluish world of a snowy night lit by the moon (with no city lights - it's absolutely beautiful!)  I miss coming in from the cold to drink a cup of hot chocolate.  I've never had trouble getting warm when it's too cold, but when it's really hot in the summer here, I can't find any way to keep cool; air conditioning just makes everything worse when you do have to go outside.

Winter Morning in Playa del Carmen

On the other hand, there are some things I've really grown to love about spending winter in Mexico.  Winter here is nothing like winter at all.  It is actually like early fall.  Since early fall in Canada is my favourite season (the only one I like more than winter), this is ideal.  Cold nights might get as low as 15 degrees, just cold enough to put on warm pajamas and a thick blanket.  Warm days rarely go over 25 degrees.  I've always felt 18 degrees is the most comfortable temperature to walk around without a jacket and use sandals. Slightly lower is nice to put on a sweater and socks.  This is in fact what the temperatures are here, well over half the day.

Another thing that I've realized is that a moonlit beach is as beautiful as a moonlit winter scene; even beach lovers usually don't know about this, since most of them enjoy the intense midday sun on the hot sand, covered with crowds of noisy people, neither of which are in any way appealing to me.  I've come to love the beach, but when it is empty, quiet and abandoned in the light of the moon, or in the early morning, just after sunrise when the air is still cool and the shadows are still long, providing plenty of shade to enjoy a relaxing breakfast.  There also used to be a somewhat hidden bar here in Playa del Carmen, which was very empty (probably the reason it eventually closed) and had tables out on the sand, and you could enjoy a drink with the cool breeze from the ocean.

Winter is the best time to be in Playa del Carmen, and it is also probably one of the best places to be in the winter, considering the general appeal of these temperatures.  I've managed to find my own little pleasures here.

To avoid drastic cold and drastic heat, my wife and I have begun throwing around the idea of living in Canada for the summer and in Playa del Carmen for the winter.  I can understand why retirees do it.  We'd have to work out some details about work and school, but it could very well be possible.

(Christmas, of course, is an entirely different topic, and doesn't really have much to do with winter.  I'm sure there weren't many snow flakes or toboggans in Palestine when Christ was born, but Christmas will get a few posts all to itself.)

Where NOT to Buy a Cheap Nativity Scene

Our Nativity Scene

This Christmas, because of tight time and a tight budget both resulting from the recent birth of my son, my wife and I decided to keep the Christmas decoration and festivity and decoration simple.  Tomorrow we are having a turkey dinner with our parents who are visiting, and some of our closest friends.  The decoration is a sparkly, green piñata, which is currently hanging quite decoratively in our living room, and a nativity scene; yes, we've abandoned the Christmas tree and garlands for this year, deciding to focus on the principal meaning of Christmas. We had been planning on advent candles and wreath, but missed this part since our baby was born just at the beginning of December.

Inspired by the limited budget and my love for the Mexican market places, I did what I always do when I want something good and cheap; I went to Colosio.

Colosio is Playa del Carmen's original working-class neighborhood which was build up from a politically motivated land invasion almost 20 years ago, and deserves several posts all to itself.  I arrived to the community's central market (the only one in Playa) by bus and soon found several nearby stores which sold all the necessities for a nativity scene; a simple wooden "stable" structure with thatched roof (I choose one that's about 50 cm x 30 cm, or about 24" by 15" - these are both very rough guesses), the green leafy stuff they put at the bottom and the figures of Baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the 3 wise men, a shepherd, a sheep and a cow.

My son and I setting up the Nativity Scene

After selecting the stable and leafy matting, I was about to take the smaller versions of the figures, when I noticed that Joseph was wearing black eye liner, with a very pale and sad face.  I looked at Mary, and realized that she was similarly grim.  The model of baby Jesus was not particularly joyful either.

Immediately I remembered the Christmases I spent in Mexico City and the tradition of rocking a baby Jesus doll on Christmas Eve, singing songs, then kissing the doll and asking for wishes.  While I have no objections to the tradition itself, I always found the way the doll looked rather disturbing, with a very pale and serious adult face, with semi-long wavy hair and dark around the eyes, on a infant's body.  Not exactly how I imagine Christ as a child.  While I assume not all the dolls are quite like this, I have seen plenty of these grim-faced Baby Jesus dolls around stores and market places - particularly in working class areas.  These were the same dolls that were being sold for the nativity scene, except smaller.  On top of the grimness, the colours were rather gaudy.  Purely out of curiosity I asked for prices, only to realize that they were actually on the pricey side (relative to what I expected in Colosio.)

Disappointed by the look of the miniatures (not the prices) I took my manger and hay and moved to the next store to find a different set of dolls, but just as grim, if not more so.

A Close-up of the Figures of the Holy Family

I had already been to the supermarkets (Walmart, etc.) since they were on the way, only to find out that they had pretty much sold out, and only had rather cartoonish looking characters that were over-priced (perhaps less-so than in Colosio, however.)  So I remembered a store that sells supplies for handicrafts and seasonal ornamentation.  I went across town to find out that they didn't have anything, but that the supermarket around the corner did (a Mexican store called Chedraui.)

Luckily, I found a nice porcelain set of suitably sized figures in that store.  I bought them, along with a string of LED lights, and that evening my 3-year-old son and I set up the scene.  He was thrilled.  He probably wouldn't have noticed the difference in the figures, but I know I would.

As for the figures I didn't buy, I assume the gaudiness is just the particular taste of the kind of clients who live and buy there.  But I really wonder if their is some real significance of the grimness and paleness of the figures.  Any answers would be appreciated.

(Sorry, I don't have pictures of the ones I don't like.)