To the Seventh Day Adventists, Christmas Day is just a day in December, they don’t make a ruckus out of someone else’s birthday, as they believe their Jesus was not born on the 25th but sometime along this cold season, so being frantic for the ‘Noche Buena’ is nothing more like ‘who cares’.
I grow up in this culture; you know how it is progressing under a strict religious practice, just like Catholics who would cross guns and fires just to celebrate this birthday. It was our way of life day in, day out.
I went out to the world with wonders in my eyes asking why during this end of every year people on the streets go mad plying here and there, I went to try acting like one myself, rushing here and there, fascinate myself with blinking lights and stars, line along stores until my feet sore, doing this and that just like a believer do and eventually outdo it all by marrying a chaste Christmas believer all against the will of my parents virtuous belief to sunset until sundown.
If there was one person who celebrated Christmas just to come by with it that would be me, believe it or not, I’ve done it for straight eleven years, my children in their innocence have completed 9 ‘simbang gabis’, have memorized by heart the mysteries of the rosary, with me cheating what was supposed to be the next. They were raised to be chaste believers of Christmas, whilst their mom half believed the essence of it.
Just like any other hybrid positions, ethnicity, technology one always had to find a place, neither here or there, nothing more than like a square peg in a round hole, but in the end you should hang on to eventually position yourself to come out blended no matter how discomfited the situation might be.