The Worst Christmas Ever

It’s over.

Christmas tree set up two days before American Christmas in the square in one of the larger cities in Armenia.

Christmas is over, and I will be glad if I never have one like that again. Now, I’m not one to air dirty laundry or to be overly negative and pessimistic, but I did want to be honest with my readers. There was very little holiday cheer in my neck of the woods this Christmas.

I can blame it on being 9-13 time zones and thousands of miles away from the people I love, or the fact that I missed being with my family for Christmas for only the second time in my life.

This year, I had no big family party being held in a gymnasium (because that’s one of the only venues that will fit us all), no gingerbread-house-making party with 30 or so of my cousins, no friends-since-elementary-school party where we can get together to eat, swap stories and presents, and share memories. There were no shopping trips to the mall to buy presents for my brothers and sisters, no lists with what they wanted, no santa’s laps, no searching the house for wrapping paper and tape, no “stockings hung by the chimney with care” (they were on my feet to keep me from freezing), no sleigh rides, no caroling.

In Armenia, there is very little hype leading up to Christmas, because Armenia doesn’t celebrate Christmas the way we do in the States. The date December 25 is just a normal day to them; their Christmas is on January 6. Click to read an article explaining Armenian Christmas and New Year’s Celebrations

Besides (or along with) that fact, there wasn’t much in the way of lighted houses or decorations. Barring the snow, nothing looked like Christmas to me. Just one store in my town was decorated, with lights and a fake Santa standing outside of the shop.

The one store in my town that was decorated for Christmas

Some shops and markets sold tinsel, Christmas trees, and expensive but cheaply-made decorations, but outside of Yerevan, the holiday feel was distinctly lacking. I “decorated” at my house with a tiny tree and nativity scene the previous volunteer here had left behind and my host mother pulled out a week before Christmas, and I looked at the cards the volunteer had received from loved ones back home and left in her Christmas box.

This is the Christmas tree that the previous volunteer left behind. It's about a foot and a half tall.

The nativity scene I set up out of figurines left by the previous volunteer

The taste of Christmas commercialism I got from America was when my inbox started getting more enewsletters than normal from companies telling me about last-minute sales and free shipping options. I deleted them all without even opening them.

There were Christmas songs and a few Christmas movies in my life leading up to the big day, but it just wasn’t the same. I never watched Christmas movies growing up, so I couldn’t get all sentimental over “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” And cheery holiday tunes weren’t pervading everything, everywhere I went.

Until now, I didn’t even realize I missed the red Salvation Army buckets and bell ringers outside of every single store. What other sound is more like Christmas than a jangling bell?

I paint a grim picture, but it’s a reality of being away from home. You miss out on stuff; I realize that.

I also realize that even with everything I just mentioned, it is still no excuse for letting the holidays get me down. I could have made my own holiday cheer and had a great time: I could have baked cookies, blasted Christmas music, bought presents and wrapped them, sent cards home, cut out snowflakes and taped them in the window, bought and hung lights around the room, strung popcorn. Hindsight is 20-20. As I write all this, I wish I had done it.

Unfortunately, I don’t know if it ultimately would have made a difference. I spent the holiday weekend with two of my best friends in country. We were set to have a good time, but our lives conspired against us, and one after another, all three of us went through some intensely personal stuff back home that we had to deal with.

A time for reflection...

The blessing in all of that was that we were there for each other, to talk to, reassure that things would get better, and to learn from each other’s mistakes. If not exactly a happy time, it was a growing time, and definitely a holiday we will always remember. I now realize how strong of a bond you can form with your Peace Corps friends–the only people who will ever truly understand the things you’ve gone through during your service. I am confident that things will get better, and everything we went through in the past week happened so that we never have to have such a horrible Christmas again.

So for that, I am grateful.

And, as Christmas drew to a close for me, I got to Skype with my family and watch them all open presents and be together, which was wonderful.

My family gathering around the Christmas tree, with their presents, while I was Skyping with them on their Christmas morning

For that, too, I am grateful.

Finally, the “real” Armenian celebrations are looming, and I am looking forward to getting caught up in the happiness of the entire country instead of trying to be an American island of holiday cheer (which apparently I’m not that good at!)

And, P.S. When I got back home after Christmas, my host mom had left me a Christmas gift on my bed, in recognition of “my” holiday.

The present from my host mom. The note says, "Congratulations on your Christmas, Evelyn."