Deck The Halls With Plastic Ivy

We keep hearing that it’s getting close to Christmas, but we're having trouble believing it. Maybe somewhere in the world people are shoveling out their driveways, but here in Buenos Aires it’s really, really hot. In most respects this is horribly unpleasant, but it does make the fact that we’re missing the holidays back home a bit easier––neither of us can really fathom that they’re actually happening.

Our host family, on the other hand, has not noticed that there’s anything amiss, and they’ve gone ahead with their traditional preparations. In what we assume is a solemn annual ritual, they pieced together the limbs of their festive Christmas tree (it’s todo plastico, of course) and hung ornaments on the branches, which are spray-painted with fake snow. They’ve also written letters to Papa Noel, put up plastic wreaths and boughs, and assembled a lovely crèche, which I never hesitate to gaze at in bafflement whenever I arrive home, drenched in sweat.

I think it was while appraising the crèche that I came to realization that that barn where baby Jesus lay asleep in the hay was probably incredibly hot. Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and the lowing cattle were probably sweating up a storm. Perhaps countries with warm climates should use this as inspirational fodder for generating wholly new traditions? Because the whole American/Northern European vibe doesn’t really work so well down here. Looking at Santa Claus suits when it’s 90 degrees outside doesn't put me in good cheer. It makes me itchy.

That said, I would like to offer the following, very important caveat. If you’re the owner of a store in Buenos Aires that sells wheelchairs, walkers, and other such paraphernalia, and you decide to dress the mannequins in your window up like Santa Claus, I totally approve of that. Nice job, dude. - NSH