Sunday, January 8, 2012

The Three… Wise Men.


I have stopped writing on the week-ends, sort of a mini vacation and a mind break. But being Epiphany today… makes me remember this very special date as a child…

¡¡Rafo… levántatellegaron los Reyes!!... From somewhere in the midst of my dreams I heard my grandmother’s voice in a call to wake up, for the Three Kings (The Three Wise Men) had come the night before and had brought the gifts we, as children, lived for year to year.

In our cultures, throughout the Latin influenced countries, back then it was not Santa Claus, Kris Kringle or Father Christmas who brought our gifts, but these 3 dear, oh so dear, camel riding men … No snow bound elks or elves; no sleigh (snow…? what was that?... something we only new from pictures and post cards)… just three guys riding on camels, making their way around our world and dropping gifts through the front door or windows since, for the most part, we had no chimneys either…  Come to think of it, the mystery was even deeper than with Santa… at least he had air travel which, as we all know, is much faster than three trundling desert “trucks”.

But those thoughts were no concerns of ours… the only thing I knew every January 7th, when my grandmother would wake us up was to run to the tree which was usually placed in the middle of the back living room wall, and look at all the presents that were piled underneath. I have to add; they were not all mine… my sister was there, as well as my cousins. Although with this latter group we felt they were cheating... their aunt, who was educated in the US, gave them presents on Christmas morning as well. Clashing of cultures… an unrecognized early indication of things to come later in the future…

This is a fast waning tradition, at least for the Hispanic community in the US or in the Anglo/German communities around the world. Yes, in some of these pocket communities there are still parades on the 6th or 7th of January; there are festivities held by the older generation, trying hard to hold on to these folkloric traditions, one of the cherished symbols of our childhood. The reality, however, is that the newer generations of Hispanic-American children prefer to be the same as their Anglo classmates and celebrate Christmas with Santa… Besides, if you were a child, would you be willing to wait an additional 10-12 days until you could get your hands on the coveted presents?

As with many of the immigrant societies in our country (or around the world), we will lose most of our folklore and, as the older generations who actually lived these events and traditions die off, there will be remembrance celebrations held of some of the more ingrained ones. The reality is that these will only be a memory lane like road; in the meantime, the grandchildren and such will be adopting the established traditions of the new home country. Which, by the way, is the normal evolution process of our wandering lives.

To me, Three Kings Day is a memory. I do not really celebrate it nor have my children, for they were all born in this country. It is a memory of my grandparent’s home (but then, most of my childhood memories are through these two wonderful people) and especially of my grandmother who, until the bitter end, did her best to be cheerful even when confronted with the harsh and cruel reality of her rapidly crumbling world. She felt that we, her “children”, should not be held to account for the mistakes made by a generation that acted on impulse and emotion, rather than thinking about later repercussions or even making the effort of finding out if what was being offered as a promise by an incoming government, would be actually delivered.

Our last celebrated Three Kings Day was on January, 1962. It was, by previous standards, a much more subdued celebration; part of the family had already left. A morning when many of the presents we would have liked or for which we had asked in our “letters” (by then we had already outgrown the fantasy part of the celebration, but it was still a very special gift exchange day) had been impossible to obtain; the stores were already becoming bare. It was difficult to get even necessities; much more difficult to be able to get wants. In a country where all had been available before, we were already beginning to face the harshness of the realities to come.

So Three Kings Day, as many other childhood especial dates are, is a memory. A beautiful memory to be sure, but a memory nonetheless. It is right up there with rice and beans with “ropavieja”, with club mornings in the pool… with a liquor factory where much time was spent... with a school where I grew up along with a group of friends who would each later meander around trying to find their collective and individual ways in the world. A memory book which I have shared with you along the way; something in writing that will stay on for my own children and also perhaps to, a little selfishly, help me in remembering these times of joy and of loss; times and cemented memories which have served as an anchor for me, an anchor that has kept me bound to life, sanity and reality through many difficult moments along later roads.

Make your memories; if you, as I did, come from a different culture, remember those times and the environment that fostered them. Remember, for they are your own anchor to a later life. If you can, pass these memories to your children as snapshots of their ancestral culture… This is the continuum of life; a continuum which will keep some of these past happenings alive in younger generations and which will also keep your own presence alive after you have gone on, through the memories you have fostered.

Be Well … Be Back!!!

Final Notes:
  • Pray for those who are fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard, and counts!!
  • Follow us on Twitter … @RJAsPandora
  • Any comments please send to otherboxp@yahoo.com
  • Remember:  We are “On Air” every Sunday night at 6:30pm EST (GT –5hrs).  http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theotherbox If the link does not work, please just copy and paste to your address bar.
  • “La Otra Caja de Pandora”… The Spanish language Blog… “otracaja.blogspot.com”Bienvenidos!!!

No comments:

Post a Comment

IS “HATRED” VALID?

According to the Oxford Dictionary, hate (verb) / hatred (noun) mean: 1.       To feel ( to hate ) intense or passionate dislike ( hatred ...