Wrapping Paper-Miss

it started just days after having arrived here. i would be seated at a restaurant or internet cafe when i'd faintly hear the melody from "here comes santa" interrupt a mix of otherwise non-christmas muzak. or i would be walking around outside and hear a monotonal version of "jingle bells" begin to play. except when i'd excitedly turn to look, expecting to see ol' saint nick in a big red reindeer-drawn sleigh, instead i'd be greeted with some vietnamese dude in a taxi motioning for me to get the hell out of his way cause he's trying to back up. at first i was like: "...the fuck?" but i soon realized that the best way to warn people that your vehicle has reversed direction and is now a human waffle-maker is in fact by playing christmas music because now, the instant i hear those first 3 quarter notes of the same pitch, the third held for just a little longer than the first 2, i think "danger!" and dive out of the way.

i've spent this past week looking for one of those holiday snow globes everywhere. specifically, one displaying a winter scene and preferably including some icon of christmas. no luck: no santa, reindeer, elves, christmas trees, snowmen, snow, houses, people glowing with christmas cheer... only birds - plastic birds in glittered water encased in glass. unbelievable. right now, i could run blindfolded in any mall in america and knock a whole shelf of holiday globes over before i ran into any walls, but here... i just don't know. it's like they have no respect for christmas chachkas in this country.

it's now christmas eve's eve and i still have shopping to do, except it's not for my family or the friends i'm used to buying for, but for the girls who work at the bar i frequent (for whom i search the globe for a god damn globe), the guys at the pool hall, and someone who i should not be able to say but because alison picked her own supposedly "secret" santa, i am a santa in full disclosure.

it's not snowing, or frigid, or cold, or cool, or windy, or even breezy. i'm not running from the mall entrance to my car with my hands shoved in my pockets and the tips of my ears so frost-bitten they're brittle. my sweaters aren't chafing me, and the heat that isn't heating my home isn't making my nose feel like it's crammed full of boogers. my coat isn't stuffed with feathers or zippered all the way up to my chin; it's nonexistent, along with my upside-down adidas earwarmer.

i'm jonesing for a good shiver. i've gotten into the habit of cranking up the a/c as high as possible just before i leave for the night so that when i come back to fall asleep i undress, lay down, pull the thin cotton sheets around my clothes-less body, ignore the noisy hum of the motor driving artificially cooled air into my room, and pretend that it's fucking freezing. but by the time i leave my room the next day, it's just as hot as it's always been (don't believe her!). i swear this summer simply refuses to give up. it's lasted 7 months for me now, and i'm still waiting for halloween before i can even start to think about christmas.

no non-stop christmas jams on every radio station - only cheesy pop remixes of the classics like "jingle bells," sometimes sung in vietnamese and otherwise in venglish. no grinch, no charlie brown, no rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (or abominable snowman), no frosty, "no christmas story," "no muppet's christmas carol," not even that annual sleeping pill "it's a wonderful life." how can a culture understand that banks are not to be trusted, but not know that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings? this can't be christmas.

we americans grasp onto our christmas tooth and nail, and take the necessary precautions against the erosion of its artifice. in the states, the holiday is celebrated so fervently in part because of its rich tradition, both commercially and religiously. every year the familiar cast of characters and their stories, and chachkas and their stores, are passed onto the younger generations. but here, there's less effort given to construct the illusion of christmas. there's only one character, and his name isn't santa, it's "father christmas," and every year he delivers presents to all the children of wealthy households on december 25.

having no thanksgiving to signify the beginning of the holiday season, i was impressed when i started seeing the first christmas decorations sprouting up right on time around the end of november. at first in the shopping centers, and then spreading to some of the cafes, bars, restaurants, and smaller shops that could afford the plastic greens, reds, and yellows: those little lights, millions strung up everywhere, linking and blinking; artificial wreaths, styrofoam snow, and aluminum foil christmas trees all produced to imitate the western christmas, that is, to simulate christmas; the chuc mung giang sinh signs placed next to the merry christmases; and of course my favorite, the dancing santa robots, that remind me way too much of the 'beat it' dancers.

the custom that is perhaps the most different from the american christmas is the popular activity of dressing up one's children in santa costumes and parading them around, combining the spirit of halloween and christmas like peanut-butter and jelly, with the intention of making a sandwich, but having it smushed into a gooey, unappetizing mess.

snow-miss, friends-miss, family-miss, christmas... miss.