These phrases, which I picked up during my November trip to Kenya, have become part of my lexicon.
“Don’t crack your head”….means, “Don’t get stressed out about it”. I discovered this after Caren, one of the palliative care nurses, announced to our class that she was passing out pretests and panic ensued. “Don’t crack your heads!” she cried, trying to restore calm. I chuckled and promptly scribbled the phrase in my notebook. Later, Caren would say to me when I was perplexed about something, “Pamela, don’t crack your head” and we’d laugh and laugh. Another phrase, “Put it in the parking lot”.…means “Let’s move along, because we’ve already spent waaaay too much time on this topic”. This came from one of the students in our training, who, after listening to his fellow community health volunteers, grew tired of their ongoing circular debates.
Kenyan Nurse Caren
Don’t crack your head….Those words were not yet part of my vocabulary when, in the dawning hours of November 4, I landed at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris for a layover before flying to Nairobi. The overnight flight from Seattle and the multiple time zones left me fatigued and slightly disoriented. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled through the duty free shops to be greeted by a lovely display of lights, a trio of Christmas trees, a red velvet chair and a glittery gold Eiffel Tower. Initially, my cynicism flared, and truth be told, I get a wee-bit self-righteous about NOT celebrating Christmas before Advent. In fact, normally, I “crack my head” around Labor Day when stores begin to market Christmas stuff. (Although I’m wondering if Halloween decorations have deflated some early Christmas sales, even relegating Thanksgiving to a blip on the holiday calendar and a day of overeating and already decorating for Christmas). But there I was, in early November, oddly comforted by the sight–lights, shiny bulbs, greenery and ribbons. They all softened the harshness of a sterile airport, even one as posh as Paris with her high end shops: Chanel, Burberry, Dior, Prada. Even at that early hour, they were filled with Parisian black-clad salespersons with not a hair out of place.
Paris!
In Nairobi itself, I didn’t notice if there were Christmas decorations in that airport, but perhaps it was because I was too worried about getting through customs once again. However, in the city of Kisumu, my landing place near Lake Victoria in western Kenya, the shopping centers and parking lots were lit up with the Christmas Spirit.
On my return home,19 days later, I flew through Amsterdam. Again, I was greeted by Christmas trees-Chanel trees no less!-glittering towers of lights and glass, all tastefully decorated. Sipping a cappuccino, chatting with a pre-med student from Canada and checking my emails, I succumbed to it all, putting my normal “It’s too early to decorate” response in the parking lot.
The Glitz in Amsterdam airport
Landing in the United States, this time at the Salt Lake Airport, has its own challenges and usually I have to gear up for “reentry” into the frenzy and culture shock–typically loud Americans and noise. Instead, this time, I was entranced by the escalators trimmed with thousands of shiny, glittery Christmas bulbs. Commercial and too early for me to celebrate Christmas?? It didn’t matter. I was grateful for the beauty of it all. I wondered how many wearied and harried travelers were uplifted by the decorations. Did it help ease their long flights, layovers, and missed connections? Did it soften the missing of loved ones? And most importantly, did it create wonder about Christmas and the true meaning of the Holy Day?
This year, I received another gift. It was an ordinary clear plastic box with a dusty red lid. Nestled inside, were ornaments carefully wrapped in tissue–the Kleenex kind–by my mama. There were ornaments I remembered from my childhood, and newer ones which she had handcrafted years ago. As I hung each ornament, I was grateful for the gift of my mama. Grateful for the gift of family, both near and far. Grateful for the season of joy and for putting my somewhat rigid stance on NOT decorating too early in the parking lot.
My most favorite ornament, THE Reindeer, missing an antler a back leg taped and all made of plastic. This was the gem I was searching for. Note the beautiful beaded ornament, made by my mama
Another childhood favorite
And then there’s my own childhood creations. A true sign of my mother’s love was saving these. Obviously the beaded ornament was not my creation
My creativity has expanded since my early days of Styrofoam snowmen and bells
A Christmas tree of joy and memories
No matter when you choose to decorate, may the season of Advent prepare your hearts for the celebration of the coming of the Christ-child on Christmas Day.
Always Mercy and Joy,
Pamela
