Christmas at the New Year

I was recently asked by Brian at Istanbulblogger - an Englishman in Istanbul, I'm very excited to say - how I would be celebrating Christmas. You know, it's been so long since I've spent Christmas in London that I don't even remember when to celebrate it! The reason being, there are no Christmas holidays over here, understandably. So, when you have children in school you can't just take them away for two weeks.

New Year's Night: Nisantasi, Istanbul

The New Year is celebrated in a very cosmopolitan manner in Turkey; people put up decorations, lights and trees and it doesn't seem all that different in appearance. Of course, the spirit isn't present nor are the aromas of mince pies and gingerbread in the air while you enjoy a tea break during late night shopping. I miss seeing Santa's house set up in the middle of the shopping centre where you don't mind waiting in line for an hour with the kids for a photo and a present.

I'm an only child and, with only one English parent who grew up overseas himself and a Turkish mother, Christmas was often a pretty quiet affair at home. However, a traditional dinner, our box of decorations in the attic and the hide-the-presents game (I swear I never could find them!) were things to look forward to without fail. And, guessing who of our family members scattered across the world would manage to turn up at the last minute was the exciting part of Christmas for me.

Here, life goes on as usual; work, school. I compromise by putting up a tiny tree and decorating it with the children a week before Christmas. We've fallen into the Turkish pattern of celebrating with turkey dinner and gifts on New Years' Day because you get the next day off, so you can drink your wine, have friends and family over and the kids can go to bed late. Perhaps, when the kids are older and independent I might start snatching a weeks' Christmas holiday back home for myself...

Are expats without borders?

I recently commented on a blog, which is something I don't really do that often, especially if I don't know the blogger personally. I know - not good 'social networking' practise. Well, that's a topic for another day. Anyway, I won't name the blog as it's not really relevant to the present issue and as I'm going to whine, the owner of the blog may not appreciate being mentioned...

The blog post was something about a certain crafting celebrity not being featured so largely in countries other than her own. A perfectly valid topic and a personal viewpoint, which means it shouldn't really be attacked. I enjoyed the blog post and was intrigued by the ensuing comments. Around 80% of the responses were derisive of the blogger's topic and rudely mocking of the infamous crafter in question. Now, personally, I don't love nor hate that particular celebrity as she is quite far removed from my culture and lifestyle as it is possible to be. Yet, she is doing me no harm! She is firmly and happily ensconced far away from me, Britain and Turkey and is not threatening to turn the Brits into pumpkin-carving, card-making, fifty-layers-of-bedlinen buying fanatics any day soon. So, why should I call her rude names or wish bad things upon her?

However, I felt I should voice my opinion as to why she's not popular in my neighbourhood, but also to say that there was no need to be rude about her. I think being an expat - as well as a cross-breed - kind of gives me the 'live and let live' edge. Don't like a person? Fine, but let it go - there are people that do.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I received a response to my comment from a complete stranger from Germany (not the blogger herself). This person wrote nothing about the celebrity in question, but instead poked fun at my comments about Britain and how her experience during visits to London were so different. I won't repeat the comment, but it made me think. This person is living in her own country, therefore does not experience pining, nostalgia and memories as acutely as we do. This must therefore give her the luxury of being publicly mocking of other cultures and nations. Now, honestly, we all do this in some context, don't we? But, never perhaps directly, or so publicly? And, I've noticed, expats are a little softer around the edges when it comes to discussing other people and nations. There's just that little bit more hesitation before speaking, careful avoidance of anything which may be offensive. Also, there's more defensiveness. You get to experience and appreciate other beliefs and cultures, and respect them. You have no choice but to be open-minded, in the beginning. After all, you are the one 'invading' so to speak.

Anyway, at the end of a very long and derisive talking down, does it ever make sense to end with '...by the way, dont get me wrong, I like London and the British...' Oh, okay. I somehow didn't get that from the 200 words you just spent completely slating the place...