During my years spent living in Japan and China I have become somewhat of an Asian Christmas expert. For four years in a row I have channeled jolly old St. Nick’s soul, dawning cheap Santa outfits and prancing around in front of large crowds of students and children as parents snap photos of me handing out gifts in the true spirit of Christmas materialism . 
The first time I spent a Christmas away from the US was during my year of teaching English in Japan. I was asked to participate in a Christmas event for pre-school students. The organizers of the event would provide me with a Santa outfit and sack of gifts. I was to walk into a large auditorium, say a few words of Christmas cheer, hand out a couple of gifts, and then leave. At the time, my older brother, Bryan, was in town. On the same day of the event, we had a train to catch to NaganoW, so we wouldn’t have to linger for long. I asked if some type of costume could be provided for my brother as well, in order to make the experience more fulfilling, festive, and family oriented. We were promptly given a second Santa suit. Two for the price of one. We decided that he would play my head elf, Eldemere. As we entered an office beside the auditorium, two cute Japanese girls in their late twenties were waiting for us. They were dressed as reindeer. They gave me a huge sack filled with presents, and we put our plan into action. Originally, I was told that the this event would be a “small” gathering. What I’ve come to learn is that a “small” Christmas gathering in Japan (and China for that matter) translates to 300 wide-eyed kindergarten students standing in neat little rows on a stage while their parents flash pictures of us. My brother and I rushed in, both of us in character. Oh my god, I thought to myself. All eyes were on me…Santa. I got up on stage, introduced Eldemere, said merry Christmas, and gave one gift to the first child I saw. She looked at me with a frightened expression on her face and took the gift, silently. My brother and I did a little Christmas jig. He looked at me and said, “chest bump?” Without taking time to think, we both jumped up in the air, bumped chests, and danced our way out of the building leaving the sack of presents behind with the reindeer. That was four years ago.
My two Christmases in Jiangxi have been slight variations of the Christmas I spent in Japan. Last year I attended an event at a private English school called “Crazy English” (one of many “Crazy English” schools across the country). Again, I was told to dress as Santa. Again, I would be given a sack of presents. On the way to the event, while crossing a bridge, I happened to encounter another Asian Santa Claus. As soon as we saw each other, in true Brotherhood of the Guild of Fake Santas fashion, we immediately embraced, exchanged pleasantries, and snapped a photo. When I arrived at the event, the teachers were trying to get the young Chinese students to sing along with Christmas carols. Once again, as soon as I entered, all eyes were cast onto me. As with American children, the Chinese knew that Santa=gifts. The atmosphere became chaotic, and it was difficult for the Crazy English teachers to organize the students in singing Christmas carols. Suddenly there were explosions of firecrakers, confetti, and foam. My Swiss colleague and friend, Simon, stood amidst the chaos as children ran around his feet. After handing out the presents in a mad flurry of hands and feet, I sat down to tell the students some information about my home, the North Pole.
When I first came to Asia, I never realized what a big hit Christmas would be. Japan and China are not countries rooted in Christianity, instead having more influences from Buddhism. Despite this fact, my Asian Christmases have been huge explosions of noise, children, gifts, and Western culture. This phenomenon is undoubtedly the result of Westernization and globalization. Asian Christmases often give me a strange feeling because the feelings and influence of the West are here, but they are often interpreted in a different slant, and something is lost in the translation. This mish-mash of cultures and globalization often results in some odd new Asian “Christmas customs.” In Japan, for example, many young Japanese flock to KFC on Christmas. The statue of Colonel Sanders is dressed in Santa gear, while friends gather inside to eat the closest thing Japanese have to turkey meat. In China, the word for Christmas Eve is “Ping An Ye.” This word sounds similar to the Chinese word for ”apple,” or “Ping Guo.” Because of this similarity, many Chinese will eat and exchange apples on Christmas Eve. In both cultures, Christmas doesn’t have anything to do with the birth of Jesus, but is more of a chance to get together with friends and party in the middle of winter. Now that I think of it, Christmas has never had anything to do with Jesus for me personally. As a child, I was always just interested in presents and seeing family. As I grew older, I just cared about seeing family.
This year Christmas Eve in Beijing was more of a toned-down affair for me, and I kind of liked it that way. In an odd coincidence, my boss at Vanguard Travel invited me join his wife and son for a meal at a Japanese buffet. I first went to his house,and had a glass of tea and some fruit with him and his wife. His son sat on the ground and displayed his impressive dinosaur collection to me. After chatting for some minutes, we got into my boss’ car and drove to the Japanese buffet. It was located in an area of Western hotels and surrounded by Christmas trees and lights. My boss wanted to take me to this area so that I could see how the area had been Christmasized. On the way to the buffet, I read an English/Chinese version of “Green Eggs and Ham” aloud to his son. I had given this book to his son as a Christmas gift. Before I arrived to the point where “Sam-I-Am” finally convinces the stubborn narrator to try his green eggs and ham, we arrived at the buffet. Packed to the gills with groups celebrating their “Apple’s Eve,” we found one empty table and helped ourselves to the endless supply of sushi, soups, noodles, fried rice, broccoli, cakes, fried seafood, scallops covered with melted cheese…basically everything but turkey. I sat across from my boss’ wife and their 3 year old son. His son looked at me and took a big swig of his glass of yoghurt, immediately displaying a yoghurt mustache and beard afterwards. 
I never once channeled Santa’s soul this year on Christmas Eve. I never had to meet a flurry of hands grabbing for gifts. I didn’t sing a single Christmas carol. I just had a meal with a family. It may have not been turkey, and it may have not been my family, but it was still a meal with a family, nonetheless. As I sat there with my boss and his family on Christmas Eve, gorging ourselves to our hearts content, I realized that finally, after four years in Asia, Christmas had truly arrived.
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