#141 Oh crap, it’s Christmas

A fragmented reflection about the end of the year

Hello friend,

Is it just me, or does it get to December every year, and you say to yourself, ‘Oh shit, it’s Christmas again.’ It is as if you don’t want to believe or admit that the year has already gone past without you realising it.

I feel the time has sped up this year like an elastic band slowly stretched longer and longer until the tension is too much. Then, bang, we are in January 2025. It's not far until that slingshot gets released, is it?

I hope everyone is surviving the festive season without too much stress or any sign of the existential crisis that the end of the new year brings.

Here in Sicily, it’s gotten nice and chilly. We’ve had some rough weather throughout the peninsula from North to South plenty of strong winds, storms, rain and hail. Finishing off this letter it is 9.30 pm and my phone tells me it is 8 degrees celsius outside, and my frozen feet confirm the temperature. I am contemplating making myself a hot chocolate.

As Christmas creeps closer there is a real sense of tradition seeping through the old paese. These little towns are filled with Christmas lights, trees, decorations and gatherings.

The schoolchildren congregated the other night to light the town’s Christmas tree in the main piazza. Christmas music is being played over speakers around the town hall.

Every morning at 6 a.m, I hear a little group of musicians playing Christmas carols along my street as they make their way to the Novena mass. The Novenas are religious services that effectively count down the last nine days before Christmas, filled with music and hymns.

They hark back to feudal Sicily, where the farmers and workers would come into town to participate in religious celebrations. These days, it’s merely a suggestive early morning ritual of prayer, which is also repeated at the godly hour of 7.30 pm for those who cannot do early mornings.

I’ve never really participated in the Novena but this year I’m making an effort. To tell the truth I’ve been enjoying them. The crisp winter mornings are still a little dark but it’s exciting to wake up when the streets are still asleep. I feel like I’m doing something forbidden, it’s invigorating to be up so early.

Early morning music has been my alarm clock. It reminds me to get up, and the notes invite me to participate in the Novena tradition.

I’m lucky to have a little medieval church down the street, so I can walk behind the musicians playing their instruments towards the church. There’s an accordion, clarinet, tambourine, some kind of whistle, and a few other brass instruments from the local marching band.

A local music school specialises in training amateur musicians to keep the local band going, so there is no shortage of volunteers. The band is also a great way to socialise, and members are always invited to play at local events and festivals in town and in other nearby towns, so it’s great to see so many young kids willingly participate.

During the mass, I’m surprised to see that most of the people accompanying the musicians to sing during the service are men. Most of them are men, too. I like the idea of a men’s choir singing traditional carols and other songs in the local dialect during the religious service. It’s a refreshing sight and sound.

It’s a rapid mass. We are all done by 6.30 to give the musicians some more time to play after church. It’s lovely to see people milling around the church, talking, singing, and listening to the music. There is a real sense of tradition—something you could only ever feel or see in these tiny little Sicilian villages, where the local community is an extension of the family home, and there is a shared culture, values, and experiences.

The Novena fills me with a sense of tradition, giving me a dose of Christmas spirit while keeping a note of hope in these dark times.