Feliz Nochebuena!

In Mexico, my family celebrated Christmas Eve, known as Nochebuena (or the good night, which is also the name of Poinsettias in Mexico, from where they originate) more than Christmas Day. Although my father, mother, sister, and I would exchange our gifts Christmas morning. On Christmas Eve, we would go over to my grandmother's house in the evening. She lived on the other side of Mexico City, so it was about a forty minute drive (without traffic).

My grandmother's house was rather big, with a big family room where we would spend most of the evening. All my aunts, uncles, and cousins would be there. There were always other people whom I was never quite sure who they were. The decorations included a very large tree and a big nativity scene with figures that were about ten inches tall.

As the evening progressed, all the children would eat dinner and then open their gifts. We would also go outside and set off fireworks. The adults would observe all of this, chatting, drinking, smoking, and commenting on the gifts and our reactions. After all the fun and commotion, the children would drift to bedrooms upstairs and go to sleep. Then all the adults would adjourn to the formal dining room where they would have a big and very late dinner. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, my father would come and carry me and my sister back to the car and we would drive home. I still remember sleeping on the floor below the back seat of my father's Caprice Classic. When we got home, I was always curious to see if Santa had already come, but he never had. We would stagger to our rooms and go to sleep. Early the next morning, my sister and I would be up and eagerly awaiting to head downstairs to see what that year's booty was. Our parents were still exhausted, of course, having only slept a couple of hours. After much nagging they would come down and we would discover the goodies brought by Santa and then exchange presents. Later in the day, we would go back to my grandmother's house and eat left-overs. Us children would always bring our recently received toys and compare them.

As we got older, we all wanted to be invited to dine with the adults later in the evening. Then me and a male cousin, Ricardo, being the two oldest, were told we could stay up for the later diner. It was so exciting! It turned out to be an utter disappointment. It was so incredibly boring. My relatives all would drink and argue and eat and argue and smoke and argue. Someone would get offended and storm off, then come back and argue some more. It was such an unpleasant experience that the following year I ate the earlier meal and went to bed with the other "children". I felt bad for my mother, though. She was always marginal in these conversations and I could tell that she was as bored with the whole situation as I was. She would ask my father if we could go, but he would insist on staying.

Two years after my first "adult" dinner, we went to Northern California for Christmas with my mother's parents. That was a completely different experience. One to be told at a different time.

With that I bid you a Joyful Christmas Eve, Best Wishes for a Good Christmas, and a Happy Sixth Day of Hanukkah!