 |
| Login Form |
|---|
| A Content Christmas In Panama |
|
|
|
| Written by Matt Landau | |
| Wednesday, December 17 2008 | |
 I'd often lead them a display, say of cast iron cookware and while eavesdropping on their phone conversation, tend to them much the same I might have tended to a mime. To an outsider, I probably looked like Vanna White, pacing in front of the display stopping temporarily to point out a distinct feature or the extra set of tongs that came free with that particular set; using my hands like small fans. I had performed well in my time there and as a result, the store inquired about my services around Christmas when extra help was needed. As holidays approach, swarms of these ladies multiplied to overwhelming proportions. I knew, from having read numerous stories about store employees trampled to death, that what happened around the holidays was akin to front line warfare and I wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, it was around the time of the limited edition All Clad frying pan release, when I saw one soccer mom call another soccer mom a "Christmas ho," that I decided perhaps another country's holiday season might be more civil. Panama's month of December is characterized by a host of activities and decorations that appear to be directly off a 1960's movie set. Giant fake trees are decked in antique ornaments the size of grapefruits and billboards display happy white families standing affront nativity scenes with smiles that are supposed to say, "Merry Christmas" but instead read "Take me to the American suburbs where I belong." Coca Cola sponsored this years light display in Parque Urraca, a central park off Avenida Balboa, which entitled them to deck out the trees and pathways as if it was one of their holiday commercials. I expected to see a jovial polar bear jump out at any moment, perhaps cracking open an ice cold Coke or skating around as if he were a nimble ballerina. The level of tact is somewhere between trailer park and bowling alley, but that's what great about the Christmas season in Panama: tackiness is mistaken for rushed enthusiasm, as if in buying all the decorations, someone accidentally overlooked the fact that they look like shit. It would be easy to interpret my holiday cheer as grinch-like, but in truth it more accurately resembles Judaism. At home, the disproportion of Christmas paraphernalia to that of any other religion, be it Hanukah or Kwanza, has a way of coming off coercive as in, See? If you were just to celebrate our holiday, you'd have all these great lights and decorations to enjoy. And while I've never considered converting for religious reasons, if it meant suddenly adopting a passion for cheesy Christmas music, meaning the same tunes that once burned holes in my ears might oppositely pass as melodic, I'd attend the offer with a yuletide smile. Christmas decorations in Panama are exciting in that they are so freaking weird. Banners with one-dimensional cartoon figures seem like something you'd see at a daycare center. Big wreaths hang from banks red bows the size of empty hot air balloons drape from overpasses much like they do in the United States. The only real difference is the words that blanket them: Feliz Navidad they say. Prospero Ano Nuevo. I saw one that had been translated to English somewhere near Arraijan. Have a Content Christmas it read, which I found wonderfully snide. Find something like that at home and he who posted it would be labeled a Debbie downer. Here it's an A for effort. I often use my maid Elida as a personal window into the customs and norms of Panama's people, seeing as though most others interpret my curiosity as ignorance. Elida however is a wealth of information, all of which she's willing to share with me on a regular basis. "What would you say to someone who doesn't celebrate Christmas?" I recently asked her. "I would say...why?" was her response. "Yes," I clarified. "But, what do you say to those who celebrate something other than Christmas. Another holiday perhaps?" "Ahhh," Elida reveled. "I would say...don't have a happy Christmas?" Gift giving in my family was brought to a halt sometime around high school when laziness, accompanied by an acute inability to predict what anyone wanted, began to creep in. My father once bought me a large box of assorted socks. My brother once bought my mom a goldfish. And we all once pitched in for a huge rawhide bone for Sparky the size of a fireplace log, which ended up acting merely as a doorstop. I like to think of us having learned our lesson from one too many holidays in which presents were so absurdly inappropriate, but in truth the fact was no one really cared. Gifts in Panama, on the other hand, are the ultimate show of love and prosperity. Stores, both luxurious and economical, are packed with gift buyers and malls around Christmas begin to resemble human zoos. Roller blades were a top seller at one shop I passed through, crocs sandals were the hot item at another. This all cements the notion for me, that not knowing the right gift is nearly as bad as not giving one at all. If it's the thought that counts in Panama, it's the present that counts even more. In Panama, I often find myself resorting to the only thing I know when it comes to gift giving and that is an envelope with cash. It has worked in my family for years and as a foreigner in this country, I like to think I'm imparting some time-honored tradition from the USA: a place where soccer moms are Christmas ho's, and holiday cheer just another way of saying blah. Image: static.howstuffworks.com/gif/christmas-lights-270.jpg |
|
| Last Updated ( Wednesday, December 17 2008 ) |
 |
|
Contact Us | Sitemap
Copyright © 2009 The Panama Report - Panama Real Estate All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective owners. |