Clouds and Daffodils: 2010.12.25: X-mas Party

What I haven’t mentioned yet is we stayed at friends of my sister in Delhi. They’re a couple and both active in the hospitality industry. Every morning we received the most delicious chai and throughout the day we were spoiled with marvelous Indian food. For one week we were in nirvana. Oke, it was a nirvana where I managed to electrocute myself when intending to shower, but still, it was a week worthwhile remembering. In Delhi my sister and I did things on our own and her friends showed us a little around. Amongst others we celebrated one night out in one of the hottest places in town. And it wasn’t just any night, it was Christmas Eve. We attended an elusive X-mas party.

The party was a rather confusing experience. First of all the bar had two names: “The F-Bar” or “The Capitol”. Basically, the latter was written above the door, but everyone called it by its first name. The same could be said about the Christmas party; it was called as such, but it appeared to be a different party. The only Christmas tree I saw was at the buffet; it was tiny and on top of a cake. At home a Christmas party involves people wearing a Santa hat or at least Rudolf’s antlers, here it was none of that. What happened to a white and red dress code? Well, neither my sister nor I were doing any of those things as well.

The funny thing about the party was that it appeared as if the entire crowd consisted out of couples. Most were dancing together and none in a manner that could be conceived as intimate in the Netherlands. All was very timid despite one exception: Punjabi men. They wear turbans and are keen dancers; the ones who lack technique and style substitute that with vigor. Honesty obliges me to mention I haven’t got a dancing technique or style either, or that much vigor. It wasn’t necessary to make this year’s Christmas celebration special.

It was far away from home and it was a long while ago, a really long while, I’ve spend the entire Christmas together with my sister. It was also special because of the non-existent Christmas atmosphere. Only a few shops, hotels and churches reminded me of what time of the year it was. In upscale neighborhoods, where the western lifestyle is more actualized, people might’ve done some Christmas shopping, because that’s what it’s all about in my country.

What is Christmas really all about? To me the religious aspect isn’t really present in India. And what’s left is, well, first of all the birthday of my mother and secondly the idea one is together with family. My sister and I congratulated our mother over skype. The two of us were the only family we could be together with. At some point though I remembered Christmas was about generosity. Giving and receiving. I grew slightly worried; we had received a wonderful time in Delhi from my sister’s friends. I was left to wonder how to return their generosity once they would visit the Netherlands. Resting assured the largest part of this challenge is my sister’s doesn’t feel like a brotherly thing to do. Although... How can the same abundance of kindness, resources and time, as has been given to us be returned? Who knows, maybe the Eastern Bunny can help.