Memories

Christmas. That time when schools organize festivals so that parents can enjoy the acting skills of their children who are coursing kindergarten. And it is precisely on this date that one of my oldest memories comes to me. My performance as a pastor in one of the kindergarten plays. The role that launched me to stardom and with which I discovered that I was made for comedy.

In the previous post, I told you about some of the things I enjoy about Christmas. So now I want to talk to you about the pastorelas. In Mexico, they are celebrated as part of a tradition that dates back to colonial times. The Franciscan missionaries took advantage of certain practices of the peoples who inhabited what is now known as Mexico to introduce religious plays that had the purpose of transmitting passages from the life of Christ.

Nowadays, the pastorelas always represent, more or less, the same story. The birth of Christ. It is narrated from the moment in which one of the angels receives the mission of announcing to the Virgin Mary that the Messiah will be born from her. She, along with her husband, Joseph, will have to walk the path that will take her to the crib at Belen (Bethlehem). Meanwhile, other angels will bring the good news to the shepherds in the area that the savior will soon be born, and they must go to receive him, but it is not an easy task because the demons try to prevent it. In the end, all the characters reach the moment in which the Godchild was born and remember the importance of Christmas for Christianity, receiving Christ.

These stories, of course, have been adapted by different authors who take certain artistic liberties and introduce characters that may or may not be related to Christianity to make the play more comical. It is also not uncommon to introduce into the dialogues some picaresque jokes intended for the most refined members of the audience.

I can’t remember the particularities of the story that was represented in that pastorela in which I participated in my early childhood. But I do remember very well that my role was that of a shepherd. A role reserved for children in the second grade of preschool, since the roles with dialogue, and therefore the leading roles, were intended for older children, those in third grade. The first-year children, the youngest, had to interpret the animals. Even though my role had no dialogue, it was not difficult for me to stand out from the rest of the pastors.

It certainly wasn’t intentional. It happened more as a product of my innate improvisational skills (which is to say, it happened against my will). The instruction was simple, the shepherds had to guide the animals (the children dressed as animals, I mean) to the rhythm of the song «Arre borriquito» around the stage to reach the manger and position ourselves around the scene that made up the nativity.

The execution, however, was not as smooth as I had planned. My fellow actor and I were completely committed to the role. At that moment we stopped being a pair of children and became a shepherd and a sheep. I must say that his performance as a sheep was exceptional, and my rise to fame would not have been possible without him.

The song began to play, and he responded with excessive joy to the call of “arre borriquito”. He looked at me and smiled with that devilishly mischievous face children make after consuming large doses of sugar. And he launched himself, not like a sheep, nor like a donkey, but like a wild horse. The song kept encouraging him, “arre, burro, arre” and he, despite the fact that he was crawling, made every effort to go as fast as possible… in the opposite direction that we should go.

I was determined to do well and make my family proud of my participation in that play. My mom had already made an effort to get me the costume and characterize me as a pastor, it was the least I could do. So that change of plans became an obstacle to my purpose. And as I have already mentioned in other entries, I was apprehensive since I was little.

The rest of the shepherds followed the indicated path. But my sheep ran in the opposite direction and I, fully immersed in my role, could not just abandon him. So, I did my best to shepherd him on the right path, but he was hell-bent on going somewhere else. The song lasted just a few minutes, it was about to end, and we were far from our place. Laughter began to break out among the audience, at that moment I felt that I had failed as an actor and as a pastor. Finally, after much fussing and furious stomping, I was able to get the sheep back on the right track.

At that moment, the important thing for me was that we arrived at the destined place. I didn’t realize that by the time we arrived, the child had already been born, and the three wise men were already giving him the gifts they were carrying. However, the laughter continued to be heard.

The play ended at the point where I felt we had screwed everything up. I thought that I had let my family down and that the teachers would not be happy about what happened. But when the audience applauded, it was very clear that they liked our role. My fellow actor was right… that was the way to win the sympathy of the audience when you don’t get any dialogue.

Since then, the pastorelas, and the theater, have been one of my favorite activities. I’ll tell you more about that in future posts. I hope you had a merry Christmas surrounded by your loved ones and that Santa brought you lots of gifts. This year is about to end, let’s close it with grace. I hope to see you at the next entry.

It is time for Christmas. I am not going to say that I am like The Grinch and hate it because I enjoy some elements of it a lot. But I want to make clear that I can’t stand the Christmas songs that sound everywhere (except Carol of the bells, of course), the many movies produced for this time of the year (and have little to do with Christmas besides happening during the holidays), and, above all, the aggressive marketing used to make you feel guilty for not buying presents.

Taking away the superficial publicizing, I find some fabulous things in Christmas. I have always been convinced that magic exists, even if the media does everything in its power to make us believe otherwise. So, the part of Christmas I love is that it is the time of the year when magic is allowed to be real.

And I am not referring to the Christmas miracles that flood the seasonal movies, but to the beliefs around this celebration. During this festivity, adults allow children to believe in magic without attempting to shatter their dreams. If a kid says that he witnessed a fairy during spring, most adults will immediately explain that fairies are not real and that whatever they saw must be the product of imagination. But most of them wouldn’t dare to say that Santa Claus or his elves are not real. Certainly, childhood is the best time to enjoy Christmas, that time before your mind becomes corrupted by the adult’s lack of faith. And there is nothing better than the expectation of receiving Christmas presents that night.

Christmas is one of the festivities in Mexico that are completely influenced by TV content from the United States. And most of the knowledge that Mexican kids have about Santa Claus comes from the movies. For this reason, I had certain worries when I was a little boy (yes, I have always been apprehensive).

One of those worries was Santa’s arrival and how it would be possible for him to enter my home if we didn’t have a chimney. In movies, he or his elves are always seen entering the houses through the chimney and leaving the presents under the tree before eating the milk and cookies that the infant of the house left for them in gratitude (with that diet, there is no wonder about him being so characteristically big). But my mom explained to me then that he, as a magical being, could enter through the space between the door and the floor, and the chimneys were only a convenience and not truly necessary. That thought brought me to lie down on the floor and watch the space below the door, wondering how it could be possible for a man his size to pass through there. Luckily, I watched a cartoon where he was able to do that without issues by becoming magical glowing dust. So that one was solved.

Another troubling thought I had was how could he find me if we were visiting my grandmother’s house. But my mom explained that he has a way of always knowing this kind of thing. And, of course, there is the famous song about Santa where he seems to be a professional stalker that specifies it, so that was another fear solved.

My last concern was that my mother had explained to me that Santa only comes to leave the presents if everyone at home is asleep. That one was particularly troubling because adults always seemed to sleep until way too late. They had a dinner that ended at midnight, and then they had these long conversations that never seemed to end. I never knew how long they really lasted because I always fell asleep before. I thought the worry wouldn’t let me sleep, but as a kid, I could always fall asleep no matter how worried I was. That is a magical power that I would like to get back.

This last case brings to me an existential question, and it is something that I have not been able to solve even to this day. I have always wondered how Santa always managed to leave the presents without me noticing. It didn’t matter how late I slept and how early I woke, he always came just at the right time when I was fully asleep. Every year I had a personal mission to see him arrive, but I always failed. And I’m glad I did because my mother told me that Santa would stop to bring me presents if I ever saw him.

Those mornings were truly amazing. There was a mixture of the excitement of receiving the presents and the wonder of knowing that Santa, with his magic, had left them there. Those gifts, therefore, became the irrefutable proof that magic is real. At some point, I also wondered about what kind of abilities the elves possessed that allowed them to make exact copies of the items found in the stores (sometimes even with labels included) but that became quickly irrelevant in the face of true magic and excitement.

There is nothing more real than the magic of Christmas. Magic that adults don’t question and children can freely enjoy. The magic of being with our loved ones and being able to thank for those who are here and remember with joy those who are no longer with us but are still in our hearts. Because my mom explained many things to me, and her words and her love are still with us every Christmas.

Teach the children to believe in magic and never allow it to go out in you. Magic is so real that we can’t see it, but we can always feel it. It resides in our minds and makes everything more beautiful. Happy holidays and Merry Christmas. Don’t forget to give Santa Claus a glass of lactose-free milk and cookies.