Christmas Eve

Letters to Santa

Just to make conversation on the walk to afterschool, I asked the kids what they wanted for Christmas. Answers were standard, but afterward Sayad, who's the politest little kindergartener, piped, "What about you, Ms Rachel? What do you want for Christmas?"

I know it wasn't a hard question. It's been a rough year, though, and the answers that immediately swirled around my head were ones that even the best Santa Claus would be hard-pressed to grant. "Mm, I don't know, Sayad," I responded finally, giving up.

"Hmm." Sayad considered for a moment. "How about...a Barbie dreamhouse with no evil stepmother? Or...a kingdom!"

I laughed. "Okay." And now I'm pretty excited about the holidays this year.

Relatedly, Macy's is donating money to cancer research for every letter to Santa they receive. Since Sam, Josh, and Lauren were coming over anyway, Emily suggested they write their wishlists at our house. After a while I decided to attempt my own - my first, actually, since my parents never proselytized Santa. I couldn't think of much, but Joshua was helpful. "Ask for the Clone Wars DVD," he suggested eagerly. "That way we can watch it together! Oh, and ask for the Clone Wars game on DS." "I don't have a DS-" I began, but he was undaunted. "Well, ask for that too!"

So Star Wars and a kingdom with no evil stepmothers. Santa should have his hands full.

Garba!

Dancing in the church basement!
The nonIndians (minus Chris and Dion)
L-R: Janet S, Rachel, Emily, Janet W

The Garba was SO much fun! We sang Gujarati Christmas carols, listened to a sermon (also in Gujarati), ate incredible food, took pictures, held babies, clapped, circled, laughed, danced! I think I'm a pretty miserable dancer, but it was so fun to twirl barefoot in that eternal circle alongside my extended family! It was such a beautiful moment of what heaven might be like - one family together sharing customs from our different cultures!

Getting ready to Garba!

Tonight is the annual Christmas garba at church! A garba is a traditional Indian folk dance from Gujarat, India, where many of our congregants were born. Since I've never been to one, I hunted around on my iPhone to see what information I could come up with. Here's what I found:

"The garba is a dance done primarily by women (though there are always some men who join in) who dance in concentric circles. Usually, the innermost circles have the most complicated steps, and the outer rings are more like people just walking in a circle and clapping. The garba dance can last hours, but you don’t have to do it the whole time—people join and leave constantly, and there are usually equal numbers of people on and off the dance floor. The song is pretty repetitive, but it speeds up as time goes on, so it’s fun and frenetic at the end. Garbas tend to have a carnival atmosphere: lots of kids running around, no alcohol, loud music, and it will probably get hot and sweaty with the dancing."

All right! Now that I know what to expect (-ish), I have to figure out what to wear. Janet W solved that dilemna for me by loaning me the spare salwar kameez sets she's picked up in her years here. These outfits, popularly called punjabis after the Punjab people who wear them, are made up of three seperate pieces: wide trousers (the salvar) that taper at the ankle; a long, dress-like top (the kameez); and, if the wearer is female, a shawl or scarf that can double as a head-covering.

Although I appreciate Janet's generosity, I've been reluctant to accept the clothing. I tower over the Indian women at church, so how could I possibly fit into outfits that were created for them? Fortunately, when I finally unfolded the first option on loan to me, I encountered a wonderful surprise: Indian garb is one-size-fits-all!

The garments are intended to be loose and flowing enough to fit any size, and each opening ties shut to allow adjustment. Honestly, anyone could wear these clothes! What a very ingenious idea. I wish Western clothing were as simple and lovely as these punjabis I've been loaned!

Now that I've decided what to wear, there's only one thing left to do: attempt the dance!

First snow!

From the front door, back door, and final view.

Yes, or maybe, or not quite.

Yesterday Pete said isn’t Sara coming home soon, or next month, and I said (twice) not if she’s smart. Which made him ask if I was coming home. Not in January, I laughed, avoiding. No, he said, but I mean this summer.
Well. In June.
But…for good?
What?
Rachel.

I just haven’t figured out how all the things I love fit together yet, I explained finally. That made it make sense to him, but not to me. To me it’s a ranked scale, a list 1-10, of what I love most, and I don’t know where he rates. I do love him, but I’ll exist without him. Whereas if I have to go back to St Louis, I don’t know if I’ll be okay. Just the thought is depressing. What is there? Even with that sweet boy to shelter me, it’s not enough. That city is suffocating, in memory at least. But you liked it in October, protested Pete. Again, I couldn’t quite explain. I liked it because I knew it couldn’t last. Because I knew I was going back to New York so soon.

For as long as I've been here, Emily's been talking about leaving, maybe in a year-ish; how, between Chris and me, she can hand over the reigns and move on. It's a good reminder of impermanence.

I don't know what's going to happen. I'm here now. Growth is the important thing.

Right?