Holiday traditions

December 10, 2005 is one of those days I will never forget, probably because for me it was filled with so many different emotions, good and bad. I only ever had two fights with my host family, none of which was truly bad, but I am a very sensitive person (and I would think that anyone who’s away from their childhood home for this long a time is a bit testy when attacked). One of those fights happened on said day in December and it was also the day on which I was introduced to one my host family’s holiday traditions and when I think about what this year’s Christmas is going to be like - what with my brother and I being all grown-up now - this day immediately comes to mind.

It all started with my host mom Andrea announcing that we were going to go see The Nutcracker in Louisville. I had never been to a ballet and I didn’t know what to expect but I had been to the theater with my parents a few times and I never really liked it because it was so excessively conservative. However, I liked the idea of this Christmas tradition because my visits to the theater had also been to see Christmas related plays for children and the glamor and excitement of it all was something I gladly wanted to experience again.

I picked dark grey jeans, a regular top and my then proudest possession: an Abercrombie&Fitch jacket (mentioned here before). I was nervous about what I was supposed to wear but I figured nothing ever really wasn’t casual in America (obviously a very false presumption - I know that now). My host mom was accordingly appalled. Did I think I could walk inside the Louisville Ballet with my belly showing?, she asked harshly, and Who did I think I was? Didn’t I see how inappropriate it was to wear these jeans? - At least wear regular blue jeans.

This may not even seem like a small argument to many but I felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach and I felt my face redden. I remember standing before the doorway from the living room to the kitchen area and how there’s the little step there, how Andrea completely over-towered me and how my host dad stood behind her eyeing the scene suspiciously. We had never disagreed on anything and since I am generally a very mellow person, they never had put any rules on me. I don’t talk when it’s not necessary and so I think, especially during the first half of my stay, we lived more among each other than with each other. We only discussed facts or shared pleasantries. This and my self-consciousness factored into the way my stomach suddenly twisted into a weird knot and my mouth couldn’t form any words when Andrea so bluntly told me that she found my decision unacceptable. I just nodded and trotted off to my room. I finally put on blue jeans, black pointy high-heeled boots and a soft, knitted cotton-colored sweater which, looking back on it now, was obviously a better choice.

Linn and Viktoria came along to see the ballet and while they were taking silly pictures on the way there (see above) I fought the tears. Viktoria was wearing an Abercrombie&Fitch jacket but on her it still looked classy because, damn her, she’s got the body of a goddess and everything looks elegant on a blonde, hot Norwegian chick so Linn was good to go, too - and I just couldn’t help but feel as though Andrea was incredibly disappointed in me for not looking as good and for not knowing what to wear to a ballet. I felt like a child among Andrea and my friends Linn and Viktoria, a child who needed to be told what was appropriate and what wasn’t. I can’t really explain it now but it was horrible at the time. On the way to Louisville, I also got madder at Linn and Viktoria for thinking of me as a lesser person, although of course I was in fact excluding myself and they were simply looking forward to the ballet too much to notice how I was blinking away the tears, wanting my mammi.

Of course, the ballet was amazing. It certainly isn’t the finest ballet ever made but standing by the river in downtown Louisville at night while it was snowing and the stars were out and I saw the black shape of the G. R. Clark Memorial Bridge and tail lights in the distance and of course Linn jumping around as though her cup of happiness were now full (that’s a quote; name the book) - I couldn’t help but feel good again.

I felt anticipation about Christmas coming up and such complete happiness about standing in that lovely city with some of the most amazing people I have ever met. I had seen a beautiful ballet and it was snowing and I had a long, gloomy drive back home ahead of me where the three of us girls would cuddle up under blankets in the back of the van. We would come home to my host dad Steve who had probably fixed some sort of delicious mid-night snack (because, in case I had never mentioned this, he is an a-ma-zing cook) and I would fall into my king-sized, super comfortable American bed with the heat on high and the ceiling fan spinning without ever tiring and in the morning I would wake up and tell my anxious host sisters about how perfect the night had been.

I like December 10. It’s a good date because it was a perfect day. I know I use the word perfect a lot which ultimately never does the event any justice anymore because it becomes such a random word but that’s a tendency of mine anyway, I just run out of words to describe the completeness of a situation and the happiness I literally embodied on almost every single day during my stay in Kentucky.

I want to come up with a Christmas tradition of my own, one I can share with my family because now more than ever - now that I have moved out of my parents’ place - do we see less and less of each other and going to see a Christmas play at the theater every December or something like it would be… close to perfect.