It’s been like a Muay Thai boxing match: Thailand’s germs and bugs 3, Justine’s immune system 0. I start to get better from one thing and something else unexpectedly knocks me out. It’s been frustrating, as I’ve seen little of Northern Thailand beyond Chiang Mai’s borders. I’ve read about 8 books, gone through too many boxes of Kleenex, and have gotten to know the menus of the neighboring restaurants really, really well.
The good news is that I’m finally feeling mostly better and am moving on. The sinus infection lingers, but I’m hoping that it is only a matter of time, and I feel mostly back to normal. In a show of strength I managed to book the second to last seat on the flight to Luang Prabang, in Laos, this afternoon. Everyone I know who has been there has raved about it, so I’m hoping it will be a peaceful and beautiful spot to spend my birthday and Christmas. From there I'll move south towards Vientiane and then cross the border back to Thailand in early January.
It’s been so strange to have December just be another month, as it is in a Buddhist country. Aside from the odd incongruous Christmas carol (“A Winter Wonderland”) and a few Christmas trees about, there are few reminders of Christmas. I don’t miss the consumer craziness, crowded shops and parking lots, the stresses of trying to grade final exams, make travel plans, find the perfect gifts without breaking the bank, and trying to see everyone in a short period of time. But I do miss the holiday cheer part and spending time with family and friends. It’s just that it has seems that for me, in recent years the holiday cheer has gotten lost in the stress and pressures of the season.
This year, in the absence of Christmas, I’m thinking about what Christmas really means to me. After all, I’m not really Christian, strictly speaking, not having been baptized, nor ever belonging to a church. But I certainly absorbed the Catholicism of my extended family by osmosis, from my grandmother, at family weddings and funerals, and whenever we slept over at my cousins’ house, not to mention growing up in a town dominated by Irish Catholics.
Culturally, Christianity has been a strong influence, and sometimes it's hard to see how taken-for-granted these layers of meaning have been. I'm not opposed to it, but I'd like to be more conscious of it, to perhaps take certain aspects of it, and leave others. I like the Virgin Mary, the singing, the idea of sacred and holy rituals, and the idea of Christmas as a celebration of new life and light and wonder in the middle of the darkest time of year.
But there is so much about Catholic dogma that I would prefer to leave behind. I remember going to a Catholic Mass on Christmas Eve with my grandmother for the first time as an adult, and I was shocked by the obsessive and graphic description of Mary’s purity, as if only a woman who is like no other woman in the world is worthy of such worship. That’s only the tip of the iceberg in regard to the Church’s treatment of women, but that's an old topic.
When I was little, we’d always spend Christmas Eve with my grandparents in Belmont. Driving home late at night, I’d look out the car window, toward the night sky, looking for the Star of Bethlehem (and Santa’s sleigh, of course). It was always so magical, the bright stars in the dark night, the holiest night of the year, the light of the stars reflected in the Christmas lights that decorated people’s houses.
I’d like to take away the simple beauty and purity of the Star of Bethlehem, shining forth on the dark, cold night heralding the hope and promise of the coming of a new messiah. But, I'd also like to set it next to the peace of the Buddha's smile, the compassion of Kwan Yin, the rich symbolism of the Hindu gods, and the grace of the Balinese goddess Saraswati.
Merry Christmas, everyone! I'll miss you very much.
