Christmas Lights

"Merry Christmas!" I was just stepping through the gate into my apartment complex, and the words caught me somewhat off guard as I looked up to see the one of our doormen who speaks some English grinning ear to ear as he helped a colleague string a rope of blue lights across the archway.

"Thanks," I replied, and gestured upward. "They look great!"

I headed back to my apartment with a huge grin on my face, loving that, even here in Taiwan, at least my apartment will have Christmas lights. It wasn't something I'd anticipated; with the exception of a small section in Carrefour and a one sprawling out of the local stationary store, there are next to no Christmas decorations here. It takes a little thinking to remember that, by this time at home, many homes are fully decked out for the holiday, from twinkling lights to wreaths to snowman figurines to nativity scenes to Christmas trees.

Not so here. Christmas in Taiwan is not a national holiday; like Halloween, some people now celebrate it, having learned about it from Western pop culture or, if they're Christians, from church, but for many people here it's not a big deal. I'm lucky that this year Christmas falls on a Sunday; if it were during the school week, I would be teaching just like on any other day.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, and not just because of the obvious perk of the gifts. No, what makes Christmas special for me is the anticipation of the holiday, the getting ready; the picking out of the perfect gift for someone; the general spirit of joy as people take a bit of time to think, not of their own desires, but of others'. Yes, I know that in the West, especially, Christmas has become a materialistic holiday focused on the gifts. But, for me, the joy is truly in buying for others, more than receiving.

And then there's the family aspect of it. Maybe part of it is because it's a winter holiday, but I associate Christmas with an intense aspect of coming together as one; when I think of Christmas, I see my family sitting around talking as we open gifts, and later my extended family filling my house to the seams, alternately stoking the fire and flinging open the windows. I imagine our house from the outside on that day, lit from the inside and emanating light and heat to the world. It's an appropriate image for the real meaning of the holiday, I think: light in the midst of darkness; love in the midst of emptiness.

I know it's a little early for a post on Christmas. But my doorman's greeting reminded me of what I was missing, and also showed me a link between home and here.

See, before I left my apartment today, I got to chat with my parents; hear my dad talk about putting Christmas lights up today and hear my mom tell my my brother's seasonal tree-selling business is doing fantastic.

And after that conversation, coming back to Christmas decorations was perfect: a reminder that Christmas doesn't have to be in a certain location, and that fellowship and light does not have a singular residence in Eugene, Oregon. That, while Christmas in Kaohsiung will never be the same as Christmas in Eugene, it will still be Christmas. Lights will still shine-- and not only on my building.

View from my window tonight. :)