Ho, Ho, Ho

Growing up in an Anglo-Swedish family living in Belgium at least has one advantage that my children will eventually discover: You get Christmas presents over and over again. The only problem is that you don’t quite know from whom.

The Belgian tradition is for children to get their presents from Sinterklaas/St. Nicholas on December 6, and since the Sint, as he is commonly known, frequents the schools around that date, there is no way for us to try to ignore that tradition. (And it would be pretty harsh for the kids to come to school on that day and be asked by their friends “so what did you get from the Sint, then?”) So, already on December 5, our four- and six-year-olds put out a shoe each with carrots in them – for Sint’s horse – and awoke the morning after to find that the Sint had been there to put presents there in return.

Then, the Swedish Christmas starts officially on Christmas Eve, which is the day every Swedish child gets their presents – in fact, that is the main day of Christmas in Sweden. As we have that tradition firmly engraved in us, that is of course when we will have the next Christmas present flurry. More gifts.

The day after, Christmas Day, is traditionally the day when British children get presents in their stockings. Our kids have thus already put their stockings up, so it will be difficult to avoid even more presents then.

Well, if that sounds complicated, we haven’t got to the whole Santa business yet.

The Belgian Santa – the Sint – is not a merry figure from the North Pole; he is a skinny bishop arriving in a boat from Spain. The fact that he lives in sunny Spain rather than the freezing North isn’t so much the result of any modern-day timeshare condo programme, but rather a remnant from the years when Belgium was ruled by Spain and everything came from there. He is accomplished by Zwarte Piet (“Black Pete”), a jester-looking chap dressed in medieval clothing who is usually depicted as a blackface minstrel… a seriously politicaly incorrect caricature of an African man, probably in some way stemming from Moorish influences in Spain. He is the one who actually administrates the gift distribution; now there’s another interesting ground for debate over who’s the servant and who’s the master, by the way, but that’s beside the point.

However, the Swedish Santa – Jultomten – is a reformed and overgrown gnome, who lives alternatively at the North Pole or – more often – in Rovaniemi in Finland (although there have been some attempts to relocate him to Mora, Sweden). Not only does this bearded and obese character appear on Christmas Eve: he usually turns up in person, handing out Christmas presents from his sack, usually at the very moment when Dad has popped out to buy the newspaper. Jultomten has nothing in common with the Sint at all, except for being clad in red and handing out presents.

Then, the increasingly americanised version occuring in English-speaking countries, Santa Claus, of course lives at the North Pole, but sneaks down the chimney at night between Dec. 24 and Dec. 25 while the children are sleeping. to fill their stockings.

You’d think that our biggest problem is that we don’t have a chimney, but it gets worse still.

Putting all these things together means that we have to try to explain to our kids why this figure first appears in their school in full visibility, then sneaks in at home here at night, then changes clothes completely, gives Zwarte Piet a vacation in the middle of their busiest season, puts on 30-40 kilos in 18 days and relocates to the far North before turning up here again in full visibility, only to sneak in back here again the very night after to pop a few extra gifts down the kid’s socks that he could just as well have given to them the evening before.

The other day, we went to the local British store, where we buy all things English. There, the children had the chance of meeting Father Christmas, the fourth incarnation of this seasonal fiction, who is the English version of Santa (but ethnologically not entirely Santa Claus either).

“Is Zwarte Piet with him?” the Four-year-old asked expectantly.

Help.

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7 Responses to “Ho, Ho, Ho”

  1. Stellan Says:

    Good grief. You didn’t even mention that Black Pete also exists in the Swedish Culture, but in a completely different context. Maybe best to wait with that one…

  2. jonathan Says:

    Well, “getting stuck with Black Pete” (corresponding to “being stuck with the Old Maid” in English) is kinda like how the parents in the above saga feel at present. Oh, bother, PRESENTS, I haven’t finished all X-mas shopping yet. And how am I going to explain that the presents from Granny are not from Father Santaklaas-tomten?? Help!

  3. derekt Says:

    I thought Black Pete put coal in the shoes of naughty children and left a stick for their parents to beat them with? Worth trying on the kids.

    A thought of a different kind: would Belgium be in the same governmental plight today if they had still been ruled from Spain?

  4. jonathan Says:

    derekt: You’re right about the coal and the stick, and in some versions of the legend, Black Pete even tucks away the naughty kids in his sack and drags them back to Spain.

    Maybe THAT would be something to try on naughty politicians.

  5. I Am The Easter Bunny « Jonathan Newton’s Tales from the European Underbelly Says:

    […] Am The Easter Bunny 23 March, 2008 — jonathan I thought our Christmas ordeal was a challenging experience in cross-cultural communication, trying to explain to our little […]

  6. santalivenow Says:

    I love the history fact or not

  7. rita Says:

    just a little note: the Belgium, as well as the Netherlandse (Dutch) Sinterklaas is in fact evolved from Sint Nicolaas van Mira. A certain good man, who lived a while on that small island for the coast of Spain (Mira). Who was quite generous and helped a few girls who needed money for their wedding by throwing some through their (open)window. Hence the boat coming from Spain and the chocolate money. Zwarte Piet (Black Pete) was traditionally the helper of Odin or Wodan, a German/Scandinavian god, who might every now and than throw some grains through the smoke opening of good worshippers and/or warriors. Hence his black face and the pepernoten (tiny cookies, alsmost grain-sized). In my youth we dressed up as Zwarte Piet by burning corks and putting that on our faces.
    Somehow everything got mixed up and now we only miss the Hogfather.


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