It’s a little late to write about Christmas, but I’m feeling festive so here goes. Mitchell and I went home to America for a couple of weeks for the holidays. By America, I mean Colorado (Mitchell’s “countryside”) and Kansas City (where my sister, aunt and uncle live). As is my custom, I dreaded it. It’s not that I don’t like visiting my family (really, mom!), it’s Christmas itself. Let’s face it: it’s a cheesy, shallow holiday. Nothing makes my soul recoil like Christmas-related music and movies (Home Alone being an exception). The worst part, though, by far is the shopping. Our tendency to deplete our bank accounts in some misguided effort to express love through stuff is…is…neurotic, exhausting, bizarre, depressing. I don’t know. It’s a tired liberal rant, but it’s tired because it’s true. In sum: yes, I’m a Grinch bitch. But no, this doesn’t mean that I had a bad time. And no, it doesn’t mean that I donated all of my awesome gifts to charity (blush). I’m just prone to tired, liberal rants is all.
Even Hanoi has embraced Christmas. No, I'm not amused.
Speaking of rants, my family especially likes the holiday tradition of bickering over politics. We are firmly divided into two camps: 1) thoughtful, concerned, informed lefties and 2) wacky, confused, brainwashed Republicans. (No bias there; to my astonishment, most of my family members reside in the latter camp). This means that the dinner table frequently turns from civil and content to frothy and aggressive. To my surprise, this year the topic that set us off was not Occupy Wall Street as I’d expected. I’d been telling Mitchell for weeks, “If they even mention the word ‘bongos,’ I’m gonna completely lose my shit!” By this I meant that I’d jump on the table, mimic an enraged ape and throw the turkey across the room, behavior that has been scientifically proven to change hearts and minds. In the jungle at least. No, the topic was Guantanamo Bay. My uncle mentioned it to illustrate Obama’s failure to keep promises, my sister and I started pulling our hair out and screaming about Bush being a war criminal, our cousin asserted that Bush saved the Middle East, so on and so forth. Lovely time. Anyway, I’m not sure how we can learn to engage in these conversations in a more flattering and sane fashion. At present, our country is experiencing a time in which the extremes we hear seem to be true. Bush really is a war criminal after all. Our civil rights really are being violated. And Newt Gingrich really is an evil, baby-eating robot troll sent from China to destroy American democracy. God, it’s so obvious. Just look at the guy:
Source: http://www.dangerousminds.net/
However, that was the only maddening thing that happened this Christmas. Most of it was really great. Because they are so young, seeing our nieces on visits home is like meeting entirely new people. Mitchell’s niece Catey Rose (age 16 months) knows sign language and can navigate an iPod. My niece Evelyn Grace (age 2 years, 4 months) can actually form and understand whole sentences and is learning to break dance. They’re like real humans now!
Catey Rose
Evelyn break dancing
I was inordinately proud of the gifts I had made in Hanoi for my two nieces, Bettye Rose and Eviecakes (hồng = rose; bánh = cake):
Bettye Rose and Eviecakes
In Colorado, we got to go swimming in some nice hot springs. Mmmm…hot springs. (Words of wisdom: some friends and I learned the hard way that the hot springs in Kim Boi, Vietnam are not to be confused for actual hot springs. They are lukewarm springs meant for lukewarm weather.)
In Kansas City, I was taught to love my family’s newfound obsession with ping pong and the Wii Just Dance game. The latter obsession has followed me back to Hanoi. Embarrassing as it is to admit, I’ve found the Wii Just Dance videos on YouTube, which means that yes, I can be found clumsily shaking and jiggling around my house to Gwen Stefani and Daft Punk. I realize that no self-respecting person should do this after the age of 15. But I have a problem. And no, I will not post a video of myself, but I might perform one of the dances for you if you are exceptionally charming and get me really drunk, as Huong has discovered. The new hobby has inspired me to make a New Year’s resolution – learn Michael Jackson’s Thriller dance. Whenever the Thriller song comes on, I inevitably turn to the nearest person and proclaim, “I have to learn that dance before I die.” Seeing that the world is supposed to end in 2012, it may be my last chance to fulfill this lofty goal.
My parents playing a cut throat game of ping pong.
Just Dance 3 - Wii Game; This guy is totally a burner.
I would write more about the wonders of Christmas, but the man sitting next to me at Joma is talking to himself while emitting an onslaught of coughing, snorting, slurping, sniffing, throat-clearing, and chugging noises. He’s a symphony of bodily functions and my cue to leave. Happy post-holidays!
