Christmas Eve – Christmas Day

Over the past few days, more guests have drifted into the ashram in search of a different kind of Christmas experience. This year we have several French-Canadians; Switzerland has provided German, Italian and more French speakers – the latter language being further represented by citizens of Luxembourg, France and Belgium; there is a small but energetic Mediterranean clique representing Spain and Italy,  and there is a charming elderly Dutchman whom I remember from last year. The British contingent has quality rather than quantity, all thoughtful pensioners (like me!) including a tiny, elf-like retired ballerina who glides as she moves around the compound.  The tapestry is completed with a clutch of American hipsters in authentic national dress – but without the “flowers in their hair.”

We had a get-together on Christmas Eve, with national groups making their individual contributions. Everyone was invited to light a candle for those they wished to remember at Christmas, and place it in the centrepiece of the circular Yoga Hall, and we sang carols. Silent Night was sung in 8 languages, first consecutively and then simultaneously. The latter would have been more successful had the Tamil tune not differed in melody, rhythm, tempo and metre.

The party pieces revealed an astounding array of talent; the French girl who sang a piece by Brahms turned out to be studying music and had a magnificent contralto voice. An older couple from Italy burst vigorously into life when they performed a Zulu song and dance – leaping and twirling energetically, and the retired English ballerina led everyone in a gentle, simple dance. The Guest Master asked me if I would read T.S.Eliot’s Journey of the Magi. I did some on-line research so that I could preface the reading with an introduction and explanation, which I delivered in English and French. I was not familiar with the poem, and was glad I had found out more about it in advance; I enjoyed reading it, and the guests liked it.

By nine we were entertained and fed, and I could not face staying up for Midnight Mass. My sleep-apnoea keeps bothering me, I never know whether I am sleeping properly or not, but I had an early night and think I slept 8 hours.

It seems that most people got to bed around 2am or later, which explained the poor turnout for breakfast. As a special treat, we had extremely sweet, sliced white bread for breakfast, but the marmalade was missing. In traditional style the sliced bread was placed on your dish and then swamped with a couple of ladles of spicy, peppery vegetable soup. 
Even the morning coffee wasn’t safe and was superseded as a Christmas treat by hot drinking chocolate, already pre-loaded with several spoons of sugar.

Now it’s a very quiet Christmas Day. I spoke to most of the family yesterday, while there was a good internet connection for Skype and Facetime. Today I might do something daring – like sit in the sun. It’s in the 80s, but it’s dry, not humid. 

I’ll see what’s on my Kindle. Merry Christmas everyone !