Maddie went to visit Santa’s village with her kindergarten class yesterday. She told me in a conspiratorial whisper yesterday “Mom – Mrs. Claus isn’t real. She wears a wig!” “And Santa Claus?” I asked, “Does he wear a wig?” “Nope. He’s real.”
So there you have it – Santa’s real, but he’s married to a FAKE!
I know I’m probably messing with a sacred cow, but can I just say that I’m really quite sick of that Band Aid song? You know the one that’s been on the radios every Christmas since 1984? Do they Know it’s Christmas Time? Perhaps it was slightly appropriate for the 80s when Ethiopia was in the middle of a famine, and I’m sure it was meant in the right spirit and probably raised scads of money for a good cause, but pay a little attention to the words and you’ll realize it’s one of the most patronizing, ethnocentric songs around.
Walk with me through the lyrics…
It’s Christmas time
There’s no need to be afraid (Really? ‘Cause even at Christmas time, lots of people have reason to fear.)
At Christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade (Oh c’mon. If that’s the case, then why are there so many suicides at Christmas time? In rich, comfortable North America, that is. Not in “poor destitute” Africa.)
And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy (Does plenty REALLY equal joy? I have my doubts. Sometimes plenty DESTROYS joy.)
Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time (long arms!)
But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones (The OTHER ones? Isn’t that a little patronizing?)
At Christmas time it’s hard, but when you’re having fun (What if I’m NOT having fun? What if all this craziness that Christmas has turned into has thrown me into exhaustion and near depression and I can barely cope?)
There’s a world outside your window (So… inside my window there’s “fun” and outside my window, not so much?)
And it’s a world of dread and fear (Always? Isn’t that generalizing it just a little? You know, I saw a whole LOT of joy in Africa and probably less dread and fear than I often see in North America.)
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears (Ugh.)
And the Christmas bells that ring there (If they don’t know it’s Christmas, WHY do they have Christmas bells?)
Are the clanging chimes of doom (Wow. That’s dark. Is their ONLY hope that they might be rescued by benevolent, rich, patronizing North Americans? Some of the smartest, most hardworking and hopeful people I know are Africans.)
Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you (Oh yeah – cause we’re SO much better than them, aren’t we? Again – a little patronizing. Not to mention not particularly grace-filled. Because God really does bless America? And only America?)
And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time (Umm… I don’t think they necessarily regret that.)
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life (Well, that’s not really OUR gift to give is it? Let’s drop the “Great White Hope” angle here, puh-lease.)
(Oooh) Where nothing ever grows (Hello!? I saw PLENTY of things growing in Africa. Let’s drop the meaningless generalizations. A lot of the problems in Africa are more about unfair markets and the exploitation of people by rich countries, not necessarily about things not growing.)
No rain nor rivers flow (Again – have you BEEN to Africa? Lots of rivers and sometimes even too much rain. Yeah, I KNOW this was originally written in response to a drought and resulting famine, so I’ll allow you a little leeway with this one.)
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all (Do they care? Some of them are Muslim or Animists, etc. – they might not be particularly interested in our ethnocentric version of Christmas.)
(Here’s to you) raise a glass for everyone (Lucky us – we get to sit in comfort and drink our wine and look down on “the other ones”.)
(Here’s to them) underneath that burning sun (Ah – that warm African sun. What I’d give for a little of that right now! Oh – that’s not what you meant?)
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all
Feed the world, feed the world, feed the world (Yeah, okay, I’m not so very fond of the “feed the world” language. Perhaps “share food with them” or “improve the systems so that they can access their own food”, but “feeding” sounds more like something you do for animals or children. Let’s try to treat them more like our equals.)
Let them know it’s Christmas time again (So… what’s to say our version of Christmas is better than theirs? Perhaps, instead of claiming superiority, we could build relationships with them and learn from each other. Many of my African friends know a lot more then I do about supportive communities and a spiritual approach to Christmas that is more about honouring the birth of Christ than it is about the excessive consumerism and self-centredness that North American Christmas is often reduced to. Somebody pass me a soapbox to stand on!)
Feed the world (Sigh. Didn’t we cover this already?)
Let them know it’s Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it’s Christmas time again (Again? Let’s drop it already. Maybe somebody could write a new song?)
According to Michael Maren in The Road to Hell: The Ravaging Effects of Foreign Aid and International Charity, “The starving African exists as a point in space from which we measure our own wealth, success, and prosperity, a darkness against which we can view our own cultural triumphs. And he serves as a handy object of our charity. He is evidence that we are blessed, and we have an obligation to spread that blessing… Starvation clearly deline
ates us from them.”
(Why do I have this feeling that I’m opening myself up to the wrath of sentimental people all over the internet?)
All I have to do is survive this week and next week, and then I can FINALLY catch my breath. Just a few more meetings, one short business trip, a couple of presentations, a few concerts where I have to be the smiley person working at the information booth, at least one project I have to make some serious progress on, and then I can relax.
Oh how heavenly that word “relax” sounds to my ears right now!
After next week, I’ll have two and a half weeks in which I only have to work three days! Woohoo!
In those two and a half weeks, please PLEASE do not ask me to commit to anything unless it involves some serious eating, sleeping, laughing, playing, reading, or relaxing. In those two and a half weeks, “NO” will be my favourite word for anyone who asks too much of me. I promise.
On January 3, 2007, I flew to Ethiopia for an exciting adventure. Little did I know that adventure would continue long after I landed back on Canadian soil. This whole year has been an adventure of new programs, new partnerships, new ideas, new challenges, new staff, new structures… oh the list goes on and on and now I’m TIRED.
There will still be lots to do when I get back after my two and a half weeks, but it can wait. I need a rest.
1. Joe Banana has been found! (Daddy wins the prize for the best Dad ever for finding him.) At this very moment, he is curled up in his bed with his very best friend. There’s a little reunion conversation going on in there, and I’m a little tempted to sit outside the door and eavesdrop, but I will resist. (By the way, if you were one of the nice people at the retreat who showed concern about Joe’s disappearance, you can’t imagine how touching that was. You can tell you hang out with a cool community of friends when they take an interest in a five-year-old’s stuffed monkey.)
2. While half of the family was gone to a church retreat, Nikki got called up to play with the developmental team. (A real game this time – not just a practice.) Her first game with a more competitive team and… SHE SCORED THE FIRST GOAL of the game! So it wasn’t only a mother’s bias that she was good enough – she rocks! My only regret is that I missed her big moment.
Joe Banana is missing!
If anyone should see a small, friendly, furry little monkey wandering past your home, looking a little lost, PLEASE let me know. There’s a sad little five-year-old girl in our home, who’s having trouble falling asleep at night without her buddy.
And if he isn’t found… well, then the present the older sisters bought for the five-year-old for Christmas just won’t be of any use.
Here’s a picture of Joe in happier times, before he wandered off to places unknown. I’m getting a little choked up just looking at his smiling face. (Okay, I AM pathetic – I’m feeling all sad for a lost stuffed monkey.)
Oh Joe, where did you go?
I stopped at the mall last night to pick up some pictures, and on my way through Chapters Bookstore, I heard some familiar music playing and decided to investigate. Alan Frew from Glass Tiger was doing an old familiar tune, and because I was once a bit of a Glass Tiger fan (I saw them perform live back in the early 90s), I hung around a bit to try to figure out why Alan Frew was in a bookstore.
Turns out he’s written a book. “The Action Sandwich – a six-step recipe to success by doing exactly what you’re already doing.” Huh – isn’t that handy – I can do EXACTLY what I’m already doing and end up successful?
I haven’t read the book, so I suppose I have no right to be judgmental, but I just can’t help myself. Does the world really NEED another self-help/motivational book about six easy steps to success? Especially one from a rock star?
I enjoyed this quote from an Amazon review of the book… “During a reminiscence of meeting and singing with Rod Stewart, Frew states “Who’d believe it?” and goes on to declare, “The Action Sandwich would!”, referring to the action sandwich as a person.” Hmmm… gotta get me one o’ those ACTION SANDWICHES! Maybe I can sing with Rod Stewart! Or not.
If you’ve picked up one of these books for me for Christmas, better ask for your money back.