A Christmas Story

I am about to celebrate my first Christmas away from my family.

Since I was born, Christmas has always been spent with at least one blood relation ... be it the winter skiing trips with Dad, the annual midnight mass services with Mom, the 17 course British Xmas meals (with 4 types of potatoes and 8 vegetable dishes) at my Auntie Mary and Cousin Phillipa's or the soothing, Wine Gum, KitKat and Smartie filled Xmas visits to England with my Bompa and Yvonne.

For me, family has always been a staple, perhaps even a necessity, at Christmas time.

This year, I find myself in a place surrounded by people, traditions and situations completely unfamiliar to me. With no snow and soaring temperatures the Xmas tunes I hear blaring in Koala supermarket and Sharpnet Internet cafe seem so totally out of place. The tacky sparkling streams of red and green tinsel, artificial Xmas trees and strings of coloured lights sold on dusty street corners are plain odd. And, those few cards I just picked up at Makola Market yesterday took all my energy just to find, let alone write, stamp and send.

The only reason I am truly willing to accept that it's Christmas, is because of the recent phone conversation I had with my mom as I listened to all her plans over the next week. Nostalgia has officially set in as I imagine her home decorated - the tiny tree in the bay window and Christmas cards from friends and family hung along the wall; the feeling of cold air filling my nostrils and snow crunching beneath my feet; the light in their eyes as my nephew, Jonathan, niece, Emily, and little sister, Molly, rip open their presents on Christmas Day at my older sister' s home in Dundas, Ontario; and the taste of sweet stuffing, juicy turkey and a good glass of red wine, instead of the cheap two dollar stuff I buy now at the Goil gas station.

Ahhh ... where's Christmas I beg you?

I am looking for it as I make plans to head up to the north with my Ghanaian friend, Roxy, who has offered to show my JHR pals and I what life is like on the other side of the country. Hoping to let go of this nostalgia, I plan to experience a Christmas celebration completely different from any I am used to. Why look for the familiar when you can embrace the strange?

So, perhaps I'll devour bitter Banku, Fufu or Kenke instead of that juicy turkey and sweet stuffing.

Maybe I'll sip upon tangy Palm wine instead of that bold, red Shiraz or Cabernet Sauvignon.

And, likely I'll skip along hot sand or drip sweat strolling down a dirt road rather than trek through the snow and tip toe to avoid slipping on the ice.

Afenhyia-pa (Merry Christmas) all!