La Navidad Solitaria

The holidays always seemed to be a bit chaotic for me growing up. They almost always ended with some sort of scuffle between aunts, uncles, parents, or the likes. My parents separated when I was in middle school, and so the holidays only became more complicated from there on out. Then, as if the cherry on top of the recipe for holiday chaos, I went vegan in college. Needless to say, this was always quite a complicated concept for much of my southern, small-town family to digest over dinner.

So when I accepted a Peace Corps position working and living abroad in Colombia as an English teacher trainer supporting PC’s sustainable development work on the coast (truly my dream job), I wasn’t expecting to have such a hard time passing the holidays here in my new home. However, I quickly learned that when spending a holiday with a new culture and new traditions, you become hyperaware of your own. You miss the little things that you once took for granted (or maybe even once complained about). You feel lonely celebrating with strangers. And watching your own friends and family celebrate without you can make the loneliness even more pronounced.

I found myself missing all of the little things, like baking gingerbread cookies with my sister, and playing our annual Christmas Eve board game. I missed drinking red wine on the couch with my mom and seeing all of my little cousins together. I missed walking through the Cougar Night Lights Show at my Alma mater and going to the Christmas markets, and making Christmas ornaments with my college roommates. I even missed the stupid matching Christmas pajamas that my sister and I always begged mom not to buy.

So here in my pueblo, I passed La Navidad in a house with strangers, who miraculously have already seemed to accept me as familia in only three weeks together. We had a white wine toast at midnight on Christmas Eve and then we all stormed the tree and opened our presents. The neighbors blasted a deafening mix of vallenato and regatón and (maybe?) Christmas music until 4 a.m. I watched the Bill Murray Christmas Special on Netflix, and sang along to Alone on Christmas Day by Phoenix. And then I spend my lonely yet lovely Christmas Day in a hammock by the pool drinking cerveza costeña.

In the end, I was still a little sad, but I decided that was okay. I accepted a little sadness for what it was, and chose to focus on everything here that I had to be grateful for, and that is what made all the difference.

Nevertheless, it was a still merry, costeño Christmas.

My new permanent host family

My sweet Christmas gifts: a hand-woven bag made locally

Earrings (a Costeño necessity)

Some Fresh Fashion