CHRISTMAS ABROAD Merry-Making In Cuba Will Be Subdued

Press, Volume C, Issue 29702, 21 December 1961, Page 21

CHRISTMAS ABROAD Merry-Making In Cuba Will Be Subdued

<WJSJ»A.-Re«ter) HAVANA. Christmas is likely to bring Cuba very little public merrymaking. The last year has seen an intense struggle between the socialist revolution and the Catholic Church which has left scarcely 150 priests in the _ whole island. Nearly 600 others, together with hundreds of monks, lay brothers, nuns and nursing sisters have left Cuba voluntarily or have been deported since the nationalisation of private schools and the cancellation of foreign clergy’s permits to stay.

The over-worked parish priests who remain* have had no time to plan celebrations for the annual Christian festival, although a few traditional Cribs will be displayed outside some Catholic and Protestant churches. A few traditions linger. Some families will attend midnight Mass on Christmas Eve and set up a Crib in their window. A few will send Christmas cards—if they can find any in the shops—showing jolly snowmen and i sleighrides in the snow, even ; though Cuba has never seen snow. On November 13, Mr Jacinto Torras, Commercial Policy Under-Secretary at the Overseas Trade Ministry, announced that Cubans would have ample supplies of wines, liquor, fruit, chickens, turkey “and everything they can wish for” at Christmas. In a first public reference to Christmas in Cuba this year, he stated that a large shipment of Spanish turrones, a sweet made of almonds and honey, had been ordered, together with another of Spanish almonds for making turrones in Cuba. Mr Torras said that Cuba is exchanging rum for Soviet brandy, vodka and champagne. Hungarian tokay and Bulgarian wines were also on the way, he said, together with Bulgarian grapes and Czech apricots, pears and strawberries. Mr Torras emphasised that sucking pigs should not be killed for Christmas, in order to increase the country’s pigbreeding potential. There would, however, be plenty of chickens and turkeys, including poultry imported from socialist countries, tinned or frozen. He concluded: “Christmas. 1961, in spite of the aggressions of imperialism and our need to safeguard foreign exchange, will be a happy one, with a sufficiency of those traditional articles which the Cuban people enjoy at this time." Many Cubans recall that at Christmas in 1959, the first after the revolution, musicians in peasants' straw hats sang of the Christ-child born in a "bohio” —a peasant's shack. Last year, the faces of the larger-than-life figures of the Three Kings outside a Havana television studio resembled Dr. Fidel Castro and two other bearded revolutionaries.

Cynics were wondering early in December how the socialist revolution will record Christmas, 1981. They predict that one tradition at least will ever rerpain intact —dustmen, concierges and bootblacks will still expect their “aguinaldo,” or Christmas “ox,” as an extra to their wages. Mexico The picture is different in other parts of Latin America. In Mexico, for instance, December is a month marked by festivities all over the republic, but especially in the State of Oaxaca. Oaxaca is a magic word in Mexican travel circles. For that south-eastern State is a steady source of wonder, both for domestic and foreign visitors, not only because of its incomparable Zapotec archaeological ruins, its brillianty attired women, and its quaint landscape dotted with huts, but also because of its numerous, typical “fiestas.” Many of these “fiestas” are held about Christmas time. Christmas celebrations start in earnest on December 18. One of the big features of the Oaxaca festivities is the “fiesta” to the Virgen de la Soledad <Virgin of Solitude), patroness of the State, on December 18. On that day, pilgrims from all over the region pour into Oaxaca City, capital of the state. They bring gifts of all sorts, including flowers, pottery, vegetables, and even poultry and goats. This Virgin is also the patroness of the sailors, who have contributed heavily to her crown with pearls and other jewels. During the celebrations, there are “calendas,” or religious processions, organised by the various residential sections of the city. Men, women and children carrying lighted Japanese-type lanterns and figures of birds, flowers and other objects, made of coloured paper, as well as flags and gonfalons, parade at night along the main streets. On the streets and squares round the churches are eating stalls selling typical Mexican tit-bits, especially ! “buneulos,” a kind of flour pancake fried in lard and eaten with brown sugar syrup. After eating the “bunuelos” people break the plates on which they were served. No-one seems to agree on the origin of this custom. Some say that it is done for good luck. Others claim that ift is just for fun. StiU others declare that it is easier to break the plates than to have them washed. The calenda

ends with a big fireworks display on the main square. Then, on December 23, one of the most interesting and rare fiestas connected with the Christmas season is held in Oaxaca City. Known as the “fiesta of the radishes,” it is really a radish fair, in which peasants from the countryside come to the city to sell their radishes. To make them more attractive, they cut out big and small radishes into a variety of figures—men on horseback, cats, dogs and other animals, children and a series of “sculptures” shaped according to the whim of the sculptor and the form and size of the radishes. Gaiety, clean fun and a high sense of humour prevail among the people of Oaxaca in this season of merrymaking during the last days of a dying year and the opening of the door into a new one. Brazil Christmas is celebrated on two days in Brazil, on December 25 and on “Dia de Reis” (Day of the Kings, or Epiphany) on January 6. On both days, it is celebrated in a variety of ways according to the racial or national background of the merry-makers. But one feature common to all racial and national celebrations throughout the country is the “Presepio" Crib. In the north-west, where many of the inhabitants are descendants of African slaves, the figure of the Christ Child may be black, and there may be some strange deviations from the classic stable scene, like a large “flga” hanging where the Star should be. The “flga" made of wood or clay, presents a closed fist with the thumb protruding between the index and middle finger, and is considered a sure defence against the evil eye. In the south, where German and Italian influences are strong, the Christ Child will be chubby and golden haired, or olive skinned and dark-eyed. But in most of the large cities, where the inhabitants are more subject to outside influences, the Christmas tree of American design is fast displacing the “presepio.” In such cities, where the people are accustomed to buying things ready-made instead of making them themselves, ornaments tend more to be shiny coloured balls and artificial snow than the lacquered fruits and nuts of more remote parts of the interior. This year, the special novelty is mechanical Japanese toys of the most ingenious design, but of astronomically high cost in the local currency. They are smuggled in from American and Japanese ships, but are readily available from street hawkers and in bars and restaurants.

Midnight Mass on December 25 marks the beginning of the holiday festivities. “Missa do Galo” (Cockcrow Mass), as it is called, ranges in Rio de Janeiro from that in the famous and beautiful Candelaria Cathedral attended by the elite wearing Paris gowns and arriving in Cadillac cars, to those in tiny chapels which dot the shanty towns hugging the city’s hills, where the ragged and underfed poor contrast strangely with their better favoured neighbours from the shining flats of Copacabana’s no less shining beaches. Except for Carnival time, just before Lent, Christmas Eve seems to be the only time of the year when a common thought is shared by all the people of this varied land. Colombia A Christmas tree blazing with Bengal lights and adorned with shining balls and other decoration greets Colombian children as they enter the living room of an old farmhouse some one or two hours' journey outside Bogota on Christmas Eve. For nine evenings, since December 18, they recite their rosaries and sing their native Colombian Christmas carols: “Vamonos pastores, vamos a Belen” (“Let's go, shepherds, let's go to Bethlehem"). At last Christmas Eve comes and the next morning. when they wake up, they find their Christmas presents under the pillow where the Christ Child is reputed to put them. They do not know of Santa Claus, or of eleetric lights on a Christmas tree. Candles are used in their houses only round the elaborate Crib which they began to build as long ago as December 18, when the so-called “Novena de Aguinaldos” began. Later, the children’s parents and their older brothers and sisters will walk through the chilly night under a clear sky full of stars to the neighbouring farm, where they have a large oratory and a priest comes to say midnight Mass. Afterwards, everyone returns home for the traditional

Christmas meal—“ajiaco,” a thick soup of veal, pork, chicken, potatoes, vegetables and herbs. Then follow “tamales" (made of maizemeal mixed with beans and peas) and more meat, cooked in banana or other large leaves used as wrappers. For dessert, there are “buneulos," a kind of lightly salted doughnut, the recipe for which is to be found only with old families. Then, before going to bed, the parents put the presents under the children’s pillows. But, apart from the old Colombian families who still spend the Christmas holiday on their own farms, little is left of this tradition. In the towns and cities. Christmas has been commercialised. Since the latter part of November, neon signs have hung across the streets and every restaurant, every hotel in or near the city has been announcing its ball on Christmas Eve. Christmas is no longer a family affair in Colombian towns—as is shown by the typical story of children heard complaining on Christmas morning that their presents were not ready. To which their mother is said to have answered. “Daddy has not yet come back from the Christmas ball.” Argentina At least one prominent Argentinian will not spend Christmas at home this year. He is President Arturo Frondizi.

It is not uncommon for people in Argentina, who celebrate Christmas at the beginning of their holiday season, to spend the festivities away from home, at the seaside or in the mountains. But President Frondizi has chosen to celebrate it in Miami, for no stated reason, except that it coincides with the end of his world tour. Although some people may consider this rather unconventional. the fact is that the President’s household is small, consisting of his wife, Elena, who will be with him. and his grown-up daughter, also named Elena, who is an independent career girl. In spite of his absence, however. President Frondizi is bound to steal into the conversation at many Christmas dinner tables—at some because they are well furnished, at others because they are lean. Tall, lean and bony, President Frondizi is often depicted by popular cartoonists as the living symbol of austerity. With a substantially reduced import tax on luxuries, the lucky ones may expect to eat Greek figs. Tunisian dates, Russian caviar, Brazilian pineapples, Italian chocolates and Spanish almond paste—all washed down with French champagne or German wine.

But the prices of these will be beyond the reach of many people whose wages are slow to rise and whose finances will, like those of the railwaymen, have suffered the impact of a recent wave of strikes. Chicken will be scarce, and turkey even more so. because a plague of Newcastle disease played havoc in the country's pens and led to a Government order for the destruction of hundreds of thousands of birds. Yet, there is no sign of any real bitterness. The thirteenth month's pay, a legal bonus, cashed at Christmas goes a long way to make people forget their troubles. Austerity has about reached bottom and people expect to reap soon the benefits of four years of belt • tightening policy which permitted the country to produce its own oil, build blast furnaces, boost farming and lay the foundations for the production of cars, synthetic fibres and plastics. There will be more light in the shopwindows this Christmas, too, because the chronic electric power shortage has been eased with the incorporation of new power plants for greater Buenos Aires. Shop window displays will show the first summer skirts made of polyester, woven in the country, and fancy swimsuits—pink is the fashion this year—as well as a good selection of Japanese mechanical toys and a big display of television sets heralding the times of plenty which—people hope with fingers crossed—are around the corner. A novelty for the Christmas stocking or the Epiphany shoe (lucky people in Argentina indulge in either—or both) and particularly attractive to wives and fiancees are canned Japanese oysters complete with shell and one cultured pearl. Cans with two oysters (and two pearls) sell for the equivalent of about £3. But whether the Christmas dinner has been poor or rich. President Frondizi is likely to be forgotten after the table is cleared and the guitar taken out. For even in sophisticated Buenos Aires, as I in every city in the country,]

the traditional guitar echoeing songs of love, longing, ana war, and bringing to town the tunes of the open pampas or the Andean valleys, is fast ousting the Brazilian Cha-Cha-Cha, the American rock and even the domestic tango. A spontaneous revival of vernacular music, song and dance among the young has invaded every patio and tenement, and is well fitted to the friendly atmosphere of a Christmas night