Celebrating Christmas in Japan was less predictable than my previous nineteen spent in the UK. Usually, I reserve a two week period for socialising and indulgence, but this year I was not gathering dust on the sofa surrounded by Quality Street wrappers. Instead, I reflected on how the locals regarded this time of year.
Lacking an institutionalised Christian history, most Japanese seem to interpret the phenomenon as a commercial event, similar to Valentines Day in the West. Presents may be purchased for young children or exchanged between couples, but there is a complete absence of Christmas craziness that descends from November onwards back home. The kind that sees people feverishly scribbling cards months in advance, stockpiling cranberry sauce and enduring awkward dinner parties. I didn’t miss this, and in general, lacking much religious fervour, I’m ambivalent towards the season. Bar the odd impassioned, glĂĽhwein fuelled rendition of Gaudete (the best carol)…
On the other hand, experiencing the Japanese take on Christmas made me realise that I’d cast off its significance all too readily. Of course, I missed my family, both my household and extended relations, and the time we would typically have spent together. Surprisingly what I also felt deprived of was the excuse to do nothing. To rest. Japan doesn’t let an imported celebration get in the way of working life. The country has its own annual festivals. So shops remained open and people continued to feel the pressure of productivity. I missed the socially acceptable pause in normality.
Thankfully, other foreigners felt the same. We made the delicious decision to bake cake and roast potatoes in an attempt to fill this void, which I believe was as good a remedy as any.
The Carnivorous Woman 