Christmas in A Hot Climate

I’ve always been curious about how other people in the world celebrate Christmas. I grew up in a hot country in South America so all through my childhood, I enjoyed blistering hot Christmas days while ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’ beckoned to me on the radio (when we had enough money to buy batteries, that is).


The tree was never put up until midnight on Christmas Eve night. The tradition was that no one – except the person putting up the tree – saw it until they woke up on Christmas morning.
On the night before Christmas, it took ten minutes to walk around the town’s one high street to look at the lights. Of course this only made sense if there was no black–out (widespread power shortage) that night.


Christmas breakfast was pepper-pot and bread. The hot, black juice dripped down our chins as we slurped it all up, after the two allocated slices of bread were gone. I miss the taste of the soft, spicy meat in the cassava sauce. There is no other taste like that in the world.

There were never any presents, as all the extra money went on the two special meals we would have that day. The music and annual Christmas play on the radio were enough for my Christmas cheer.

Lunch was macaroni cheese and hot ginger beer. And just like it had come, Christmas sneaked out the back door when the last of the food was gone. It was hot though. Nice, hot and sweaty. Just the way I like it. Bing didn’t mind. He just kept singing. And if my guardian was in a good mood, I would be allowed to sing along with him too.


How did you celebrate Christmas as a child? Here is one of my articles called How Christmas is Celebrated Around The World. I know you will find it a very fascinating read indeed.