Christmas in Cameroon

 

Asher Kaufman, age 18, set out on June 28 for a yearlong trip to help spread the Children's Rosary in Europe and Africa. He spent the months of July, August and the first two weeks in September in France. He arrived in Uganda on September 15. From Uganda he traveled by car to Rwanda on September 28. After a week in Rwanda there was once more a return for more travel in Uganda. On October 11 he arrived in Tanzania and on October 26 traveled to Kenya. A visit for three weeks to Madagascar followed on November 7 and then South Africa. He is now in Cameroon.

"Over this holiday season, I have had the opportunity to witness Christmas outside of the United States for the first time in my life. This was a chance not just to see Christmas outside the US but Christmas in Cameroon, and I definitely noticed some differences. 

In this post, I will share some of what I found to be interesting and distinct from my experience of Christmas back in the United States. 

To begin with, for anyone reading this who is American, it might seem natural to expect to be constantly surrounded by Christmas carols, décor, trees, reindeer, lights, candy canes, snowmen, ornaments, etc. from early November until Christmas day in a crescendoing marathon of Christmas energy and spirit and cheer until its culmination on Christmas morning. Then it all comes to a sudden end, and though we might mournfully continue playing some Christmas carols in the shelter of our homes for a few days after, once New Year’s is passed, Christmas quickly fades into the rearview, leaving little trace of its nearly two-month buildup. For many of us, this seems normal, even quite comforting. For all that people complain about the commercialization of Christmas and the creeping extension of the Christmas season practically until the end of Halloween, it is hard for many of us to imagine it any other way. Of course December should be overflowing with Christmas cheer; 

You may ask, “Why not?” 

And indeed, there is something quite consoling and cozy about the whole ordeal. Some of this likely has to do with how our brain categorizes memories; research has shown that certain tunes can become associated with moments in our lives or times of the year and their accompanying emotions. Thus, if we are accustomed to hearing Frank Sinatra’s rendition of “New York, New York” at the end of Yankees games, we might associate that particular tune with going into the city, the excitement of seeing the skyline, being in downtown, having a nice dinner, and then going to the baseball park, the lights, the pure green grass, the star players, the excitement, the corndogs, the common roar of delight at the much-needed home run or wicked strikeout, and the happy, limp feeling after a well-earned win. 

I think for many of us Christmas tunes probably bring along heavy helpings of coziness, delight, comfort, nostalgia, and perhaps even melancholy. We might think of the wonderful Christmas celebration coming up, the pleasure of seeing family again, of decorating the Christmas tree, of giving and receiving presents, of watching a family movie together, and of course, of attending midnight Mass together, reveling in the exceptionality of being up at such an hour and at church no less, singing our favorite tunes with the choir, and worshipping a mighty God so caring and full of love that He would come to us in humility on earth that we might come to Him in glory in Heaven. 

We might reminisce on childhood memories of family reunions of yesteryear, perhaps with dear relatives long since passed, of some of our favorite gifts or surprises, of the crackling fire, the twinkling tree, the dripping turkey sizzling with nuts and fruits, the vast spread of mashed potato, salted and greased by soft pads of butter, the pumpkin pie satisfactorily softened in our mouths by the gentle, cool touch of a generous serving of whipped cream, the tantalizing odor of a pot of hot chocolate warming itself to be served for a midafternoon snack with some plump marshmallows… 

These may be some of the happy thoughts that trickle into our heads as we hear our familiar Christmas tunes again. 

Thus, we might think someone a bit of a grinch, a Scrooge-like miser, if he comes along and suggests that perhaps we ought not to engage so fully in the Christmas tunes at least until the second half of Advent. Indeed, it may be hard to image the Advent season any other way, at least it was for me, until I spent my first Christmas in Cameroon. 

One of the first things I noticed upon my arrival here that was different from how many of my Advents were spent was that at this time of year in Cameroon it is not winter. In equatorial countries such as this, there are no four seasons as we North Americans would know them, but rather simply the rainy season and the dry season; that is, the hot season and the rather less hot season. I arrived in the hot season. Every day has reached above eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, and the mosquitoes have been out in full force. Instead of a roast turkey, most of us fancied a plate of chilled papaya for Christmas dinner. 

Another difference between an American pre-Christmas and a Cameroonian one was that Christmas paraphernalia and tunes were much less common. I remember once hearing Christmas carols playing on the radio and Christmas trees on display in a large American-style supermarket where we stopped to pick up some croissants, and one other time I heard a loudspeaker playing carols in the street, but besides that, that was it. 

Even at Mass, Advent hymns like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” were kept to a minimum in favor of other non-Christmas hymns. Even the Christmas decorations were scarcely to be seen. For me, used to Christmas trees, wreaths, cones, candles, lights, and more, I kept waiting for when all this would suddenly appear, but it never did. Gaudete Sunday came and went. The first days of Christmas week came and went. Christmas eve came and went, and only the presence of the manger scene in the chapel and some lights strung up outside gave evidence of the holiday. 

Seeing this rather subdued atmosphere about me, I decided to take the opportunity to experiment a bit. Since it was the first time I would not spend Christmas in the US, and I certainly did not know when my next Cameroonian Christmas would be, I decided to embrace these changes and try to a very stark, almost Puritan resolution, to avoid Christmas carols if possible until Christmas eve. I knew that the liturgy often likes to do this, deprive us for a bit of something so that its entry is that much more pronounced; for example, the absence of music on Good Friday makes the joyful Holy Saturday and Easter morning Masses all the more glorious. Just so, the Gloria is omitted from the Advent Masses to magnify all the more the jubilant “Gloria in excelsis Deo” we sing on Christmas morning. However, for most of us we hear the tune so many times on playlists throughout Advent that the punch is lost on us. We are like children who have spoiled their dinner by gorging themselves on sweets and now must sit through a redundant meal, knowing they are not deriving half as much pleasure from the consumption thereof than they are expected to. 

Perhaps some of you that begin covertly to revel in “Silent Night” and “Adeste Fideles” when the first nip of frost comes around in mid-October are thinking that you enjoy Christmas morning very much indeed, notwithstanding. I do not mean to deny this; I simply mean to explain my rationale. 

After doing some research, I learned that Advent, though not as strict a time of fasting as Lent, was still historically considered a time of penance and preparation for Christmas, so I tried to embrace this as well, albeit in the last few days. 

The result was quite positive. I did not feel my pre-Christmas season had been robbed of me; on Christmas eve, I had twice the emotional overload that one has when one begins listening to the carols that I usually did, and overall, I felt much more in sync with the liturgical calendar. 

I plan to keep my merry Christmas atmosphere going until Epiphany. In the old days, it was a custom to have another festive holiday dinner on Twelfth night before Epiphany, exchange gifts, and eat king cake (white cake with a small baby Jesus hidden inside; whoever gets the slice with Jesus gets the big gift). I don’t think I will get to do all that here (certainly not the king cake), but nevertheless, I will seek to truly keep the Christmas spirit alive through the twelve days by bookending them with the twin celebrations, Christmas day and Epiphany. 

Such has been Christmas in Cameroon; though next year I will be glad to spend Christmas with my family again, I am content to have had the opportunity to celebrate Christmas in this special community."

To see all of Asher's dispatches from his journey click HERE