Christmas traditions in abnormal times - lessons from bi-cultural living!

Over the last 12 years spent in Guatemala, my 'normal' Christmas has actually been different every year. 

When you live in a country that does Christmas differently to what you grew up with, and when you are far away from family, you have to rethink things. There are often others around who are far from family too, and each one comes with different ideas of the special food or events that make Christmas Christmas. So every year we have created and enjoyed new traditions that are a mixture of the different cultures and family rituals and activities of the people who are around. Favourite foods aren't necessarily available, and we have to create something similar from what is available or find an alternative. I'm not sure that this is quite how you might define a 'tradition' but in my book it's OK that these traditions are a onetime only event, never to be repeated as you'll never have the same combination of people and nationalities together again!. 

In fact it can be useful to help us remember that Christmas isn't about the gifts or the food or the rituals, but about celebrating the coming of Jesus, God with us, the greatest gift of all. 

So as we in the UK are reeling from the announcement of new and stricter rules that will limit Christmas plans for many of us, I'm remembering the lessons I've learnt through spending Christmasses abroad. 

Celebrate with the people around you, whoever they are. 

Adapt your rituals and traditions for the circumstances you find yourselves in. 

Be open to learn from others - and join in with their rituals and traditions. 

Be thankful for all the good gifts that we have been given - not the ones in sparkly wrapping paper, but the ones that are deeper and connect us with God and each other.

Connect with people in any way you can.

Meanwhile.... back in Guatemala

Not much of this has made it to international news, but Guatemala has faced some difficult weeks recently. 

Of course COVID-19 has created a backdrop of suffering this year. With a severe lockdown early on in the pandemic, millions of people struggled to feed themselves, as they weren't able to work. My colleague, working in Solola, a rural region, with a development project told me that they'd recently made contact with villages who had been surviving on bananas mashed with maize flour tortillas for weeks. These were the only things they could grow locally, and they weren't able to work. Even if people had had money (most didn't), the members of these isolated communities couldn't get to any large towns which had markets in order to buy food supplies, because of restrictions on travel and the rising costs of public transport. The government had promised help for those in need, but the system is woefully broken, and didn't reach these communities. 

With the health services struggling (staff not being paid, lack of protective gear and medicines) to cope with the increase of COVID-19 cases, the government lifted lockdowns, so that economic activity could begin again. Case statistics are regularly reported for most areas - although I don't know anyone who trusts them anymore. In many small communities in particular, there is a stigma attached to having had the virus, so illness is under-reported so that people can continue to work and earn money and to not face judgement from their neighbours.

Then in November two hurricanes (Eta and Iota) passed over Central America. Honduras and Nicaragua bore the brunt of the devastation with widespread flooding in many regions. The long term effect of that will be felt for the next year at least, as crops and livelihoods have been destroyed. In Guatemala the damage was felt in the east and north of the country, where landslides affected many small communities and over 50 people lost their lives. The government (from the relative safety of the capital) was reluctant to send support. 

Just two weeks after Eta, and with Iota predicted to make landfall, the government decided it was a good time to set next years budget. In a secret midnight session of parliament, a budget was approved. It took money away from health and education services, and emergency responses, and gave it to big infrastructure projects and increased funds for the actual government structures - including inflating the budget for food within parliament itself. 

The callousness of that move got a strong response from the population, thousands of whom took to the streets to protest. The protests were generally peaceful and called for the resignation of the President (he's been in power less than a year). In the midst of the peaceful protest police fired tear gas into crowds and this is now subject to an investigation. A small number of masked protesters vandalised and broke into the Congress to start a fire. It's uncertain whether they were really protesters, or were in fact planted (and given easy access to the building) by government insiders in order to discredit the protest and justify a heavy handed response. A dozen or so were arrested for damaging Congress, but after 48 hours the cases were thrown out by a judge who saw no evidence that they were the people responsible. Many vowed to return to protest the following weekend. For now, the budget seems to have been put on hold - although no-one is really sure what that means. 

For my politically active friends, there is a clear sense of dejavu. Regular anti-corruption protests back in 2015, led to the resignation of the then President and Vice-President and both are now in jail awaiting trial in corruption cases. But now they are asking themselves if anything has really changed. The names and faces at the top might change every 4 years, but eliminating the systemic corruption at this level and achieving changes to the system of government are a lot more difficult to reach. 

There are small signs of hope, but the situation continues to be a challenge, as the younger generations in particular stand up for a more just system.