Italian Christmas Traditions
I already miss Italy. Maria Elena feels the same. We’ve been back for three months now and we miss being there. Over the years it has grown on us like moss on a statue. Thankfully the pigeons haven’t found us, at least not yet. Back there, since we locked our door and headed off to catch the bus to Naples, the weather has turned. By this time, it has turned cold. When it was time to leave, the Goldie Locks zone had come and gone. The Goldie Locks zone, you know it. It’s that time of year when the weather is just right, the temperature not too hot and not too cold. In Calitri that time of year certainly isn’t August. It’s more like early to mid-July. From experience, sunny Italy begins to prep for the winter around mid-November. It rains more, gets damp and stays that way, a cold wind makes its debut, and days begin to cool. Under this assault, the thermal mass of our thick walls is soon exhausted, any remaining heat conducted outside to an increasingly cooling world.
While we’ve flirted with spending time there, about now, over Christmas in fact, even going so far as to plan it one year, we have never pulled the trigger and done it. Christmas is a time with family. Ours is here in the States and our Italian friends are busy with theirs, probably too busy to bother with two American expats. No need to get them thinking, “What’s wrong with those people that they are away from their family at Christmas.” Besides, the Borgo is quiet, very quiet during this time of year. Sometime visitors like ourselves have also moved off until activity reawakens in the spring and summer. Even the evening passeggiata would be ill-attended. For those who did venture out for this evening walk, their mufflers, caps, scarves, and puffy parkas would make them hard to recognize. And then there is an albero di Natale (Christmas tree) and decorations to deal with. A tree is something we don’t have the fixings for, even if we were to get hold of one in Calitri. It’s not as if you can go out into the woods and cut your own Charlie Brown tree like we can at home. We have forests. In fact, we live in a forest, so trees are easy to come by. Cutting a tree down where we live in Italy, let alone an obligatory evergreen like a balsam or spruce tree, what with all the vineyards, cultivated fields, and few forested areas, may constitute a federal offense for deforestation.
Seeing they celebrate Halloween as we do, I want to believe they also celebrate Christmas like us. Our friend Pietro reports that there are differences, however. One revolves around the Christmas
tree. Live trees a rare commodity in southern Italy. Oh, you can find them sold in Canosa di Puglia where he lives, like here in the States, but they come at a premium. They are imported from northern Italy, even as far away as Germany. Due to the recurring cost for the real thing, artificial trees are becoming the norm in Italian homes. As a possible stand-in for a real tree, we find the Ceppo (Italian for log). An American would most likely pronounce it as “cheap-po”, nothing derogatory intended, but it properly sounds like “che-po”. What started out as a yule log to be burned on Christmas night eventually matured into a wooden structure several feet high with a pyramid shape, giving it the profile of a Christmas tree. Its frame supports several tiers of shelves each with a specific meaning: a nativity scene on the bottom level representing the gift of God; fruits, nuts and candy representing the gifts of the earth make up the next level; while presents signifying the gifts of man take up higher shelves. What might be considered a “substitute tree” is decorated with ribbons and bows, gilded pinecones, greens, family mementos and colorful streamers. Some families attach candles on the outside of each shelf and light them. Others fasten electric lights to the tapering sides. To finish it off a star, small doll or pineapple, which signifies hospitality, is sometimes positioned at the apex. Making a Ceppo becomes a holiday event bringing the family together to plan its makeup, based on a very old Italian tradition.
Nowadays, a fair number of families decorate evergreen trees in their homes. While the Christmas tree has grown in popularity as Italians embrace northern European traditions, it is by far the precepe, what we call a nativity scene, that takes center stage as the most popular decoration both in an artificial form and live format. These cribs, a tradition initiated by Saint Francis of Assisi, depict the stable scene within the story of the birth of baby Jesus. They are enjoyed all month long in churches, city squares, and homes. There is a reason for their popularity. Italy remains a very religious country with the precepe its Christmas standard, as opposed to the secular nature of a Christmas tree. After all, the whole reason for Christmas centers around the holy family and the birth of Christ. There are many grottos in the Calitri Borgo. Before Christmas, a grotto is chosen and decorated as a stable with living participants including an infant baby in a manger, Mary, Joseph, the Wise Men, animals, and shepherds all in a reenactment of this blessed event. Talk about getting into the spirit of Christmas. Beyond these dynamic representations, nativity scenes crop up everywhere, in shop windows, homes, and of course in churches. On arriving in Calitri years ago, one of the first things our new friend Antonio was proud to show us was the nativity scene in the basement of Immaculate Conception Church. Although it was summer and in storage, he prided himself on its size and detail. They are serious about their precepi. At the Royal Palace of Caserta, not far from Naples, at what I like to call the Italian version of Versailles, there was an entire room filled with
these ornate works of art. Not limited to a simple grotto, these scenes are composed of entire villages in elaborate detail. In fact, an entire industry thrives on the continuation of this tradition. The area around Via San Gregorio Armeno in Naples, affectionately referred to as “Christmas Alley”, serves as the headquarters for this hand-crafted artisanal tradition. It is here that nativity workshops operate year-round to the delight of tourists to produce every imaginable element of a nativity scene whatever its dimension, style, or conceivable detail.
In addition to the routine assortment of Christmas personages from old Saint Nick himself (Babbo Natale to Italians) and the Grinch and beyond to the religious icons in the stable on that night of nights so faithfully depicted in the thousands upon thousands of precepi throughout all of Italy, there is one additional embodiment peculiar to an Italian Christmas. In its present format, while Babbo Natale Santa might bring gifts on Christmas day, the main day for gift giving is on January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany. This is the day which remembers the Wise Men who came to Bethlehem to offer gifts to Jesus, still in Bethlehem and incidentally no longer an infant but approximately two years old by the time they arrived. I’ve always wondered about these mysterious Magi (a Greek term for sages or astrologers) and their gifts, evidently fit for a king. There were reportedly three, why
three? Is this number related to the three gifts and a need for three gift bearers? The idea of Mary and Joseph, likely a middle-class family regardless of their being of the House of David, receiving gold, frankincense, and myrrh, must have been quite a shock to them when they received it from these strange visitors. The visit concluded, just imagine the conversation that followed. They must have been flabbergasted having just won the equivalent of a present-day lottery, essentially now wealthy. Then the issue of what they did with these gifts presents itself. Doubtful there were places like a bank around, especially when they were so far from their home in Nazareth (about 70 miles north). Was the gold in coin, a Roman coin, embossed with the face of Augustus Caesar or some Eastern potentate, possibly themselves? … and on and on with unending conjecture fit for an adventure novel. It seems that events in the story of the birth of Jesus have been modified in time, compressed if needed, a common practice of the recorders of events free to edit the past for a stronger present. The exact day let alone the year of Jesus’ birth though thought to be in 6 or 5 BC timeframe is unknown. A census is said to have triggered Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem which was Joseph’s hometown, but this is doubtful because the census was almost 12 years after Jesus’ birth when it was called for by Emperor Augustus and collected by Quirinius sometime following his appointment as governor of Syria in 6 BC. The Bible records that Jesus was born while Herod the Great was King of Judaea, which was before Judaea, for administrative purposes, was incorporated into the Roman province of Syria under Quirinius. In any case, it being Joseph’s hometown, he likely had family there which helps explain the length of their stay.
Nevertheless, the Italian Christmas season is traditionally celebrated from December 24, or Christmas Eve through January 6, Epiphany, a period often referred to as “The Twelve Days of Christmas”, although serious decorating in preparation begins on the Day of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, and a national holiday. Celebrating Christmas for 12 days follows the pagan season of celebrations that started with Saturnalia, a winter solstice festival and ended with the Roman New Year, the Kalendae Ianuariae. It was a common practice for the early Church to co-op pagan festivals by aligning them with their own celebrations, the celebration of Christmas being a standout example
In the US, even though we have a song about the Twelve Days of Christmas, we’ve managed to jam its commemoration all into one day, forgotten the significance of the Wise Men, and given Santa the prima facie role as gift giver as we rush on to
celebrate the arrival of the New Year in a mashup we have anointed “The Holidays”. Italian tradition attempts to keep it straight with the introduction of another fabled character, La Befana. It's on the 12th day of Christmas when the three Wise Men presented Jesus their gifts. Commemorating this event, presents are brought by a friendly old witch named La Befana, who arrives in the night to fill children's stockings. According to the popular lore of La Befana, the Three Wise Men stopped at her hut to ask directions on their way to Bethlehem and invited her to join them. Unless the Wise Men passed through present-day Italy on camelback on their way to Bethlehem, La Befana was apparently middle Eastern, but I digress. In any case, she refused to go along. Later, a shepherd asked her to join him in paying respect to the Christ Child. Again, she refused. When night fell, she saw a great light in the sky and regretting her decision not to have gone. In a sort of head fake, she gathered some toys and ran off to find the kings and the shepherd in their quest to find the child. Unfortunately, La Befana got lost and never found them or the stable. Now, each year she continues her quest to look for the Christ Child. Since she cannot find him, the Epiphany witch, thought to ride the night skies on a broomstick, leaves gifts for the children of Italy. It is she who fills the children’s stockings with sweets and small gifts for those on the nice list and pieces of coal (nowadays carbone dolce, a rock candy that looks remarkably like coal) or bags of ash for those who have misbehaved. So it is on Epiphany night that Italian children believe that this good witch brings them presents. She is the more traditional figure of Italian Christmases, while Santa, who presents his gifts on Christmas Day and whose popularity is growing year after year, is a closing second.
One other noticeable difference in Christmas traditions is the absence of the overt commercialization of Christmas that threatens to swallow up and completely secularize the holiday. In the States, we’re inundated with advertisements and not only during the Christmas season. In a blizzard of retail numbers, we have Black Fridays, Cyber Mondays, generally any excuse for a sale, that peak in a fury of marketing just before Christmas. Conditioned to repetitive sales, unless we’re desperate, why buy anything, unless it’s on sale? Clearly, a major instigator of this “in the black” or “in the red” syndrome is American television. Ever count the number of drug commercials, car commercials, “buy me” now, stay forever young and diet commercials we’re exposed to in just one hour? Can you fathom a Christmas absent the gaudy advertisements and pressure to buy and consume? I just don’t notice it in Italy, where for example, instead of writing letters to Santa Claus asking for presents, Italian children write letters to tell their parents how much they love them. In the solemn quietude of such a joyous occasion, just imagine children not tweeting or texting but writing to their parents. Yes, Italy is surprisingly that different.
If there is an emphasis on consumption in Italy, it concerns the intake of food, not so bad an enticement at all, where indoctrination on the specifics begin early in life under the tutelage of mamma and nonna. After all, this is Italy and what, but food comes to mind at its mention. And Christmas, well the season of Christmas, pushes matters overboard just a smidgen more than usual in the food department, although Christmas festivities don’t start off that way. There is initially what might be thought of as a preparation phase, where food consumption is downplayed, the operative word here being “initially”. It’s not that there is any hesitation on what specialty to prepare, for kitchens throughout the country are ready to go with traditional recipes, handed down and refined over the years, in hand. These preparations are not of the food but of the body. Knowing what’s coming, there is a pause, a sort of respite from certain foods. We may want to think of it as an effort to purify the body as in a fast. However, it’s more like a temporary diet, very temporary. Be assured, it doesn’t last long either, and no one loses weight, for the food denied has a ready substitute at hand.
Italians refer to the Christmas Eve Vigil as la Vigilia di Natale. This celebration commemorates the wait for the midnight birth of baby Jesus which is celebrated at a midnight Mass. Christmas Eve day is a fast day with the idea of making it a giorno di magro, a day of eating lean. On this day Italians abstain from meat and instead substitute fish and seafood, multiple courses, in fact, accompanied by assorted veggies. The long tradition of eating seafood on Christmas Eve carries over from the Roman Catholic tradition of abstaining from eating meat on the eve of a feast day or in general on Fridays. As no meat could be consumed on these days, observant Catholics would instead eat fish. In the US, Italian-Americans enjoy “The Feast of the Seven Fishes”, although it is not called that in Italy or are seven fish dishes necessarily a part of it. It has been suggested that the "seven fishes” idea originated in an American restaurant. While we certainly missed the inaugural feast, we confess participating in this Americanized seven fish and seafood extravaganza once ourselves in the States at a place called Pasquale’s. Let me assure you that as “lean” an evening as it was intended to be, there was more than adequate compensation in the form of a long evening among friends around a merry table (please understand it takes some time to partake of seven fish courses), the wonderful servings crafted by Pasquale himself, not to mention the wines consumed. Let tradition refer to it as “a day of eating lean”, personally I’ll tempt losing weight this way any time.
The most famous dish for Southern Italians is baccala (salted codfish) along with spaghetti or some other form of this ubiquitous noodle. This custom of celebrating with baccalà reflects the tradition from the historically impoverished regions of Southern Italy. Alici friti (fried anchovies), calamari and other types of seafood to include combinations of whiting, lobsters, sardines, smelts, eels, squid, octopus, shrimp, mussels, and clams have been incorporated into the Christmas Eve dinner over the years. In Naples, a starter might be a sautéed mix of broccoli and seafood. Following
the fish, seafood and vegetable courses, the meal concludes with typical Italian Christmas sweets, ranging from pandoro, panettone, toffee, nut-filled torrone (nougat), panforte, balls of struffoli, caggionetti, and the airy pureed chestnuts of a Monte Bianco topped with whipped cream, all depending on regional cuisine. It’s hard to believe this is thought to be a “lean meal” embracing some form of self-denial and restraint. Possibly when compared with what comes next it is, for on Christmas Day, close friends and relatives go to each other's homes for a massive dinner that often begins with antipasti, followed of course by pasta dishes. These also differ by region. In the north, Lasagna Bolognese and filled pasta like manicotti and ravioli are the traditional fares. In nearby Naples, it’s vermicelli with clams or mussels. In Central Italy, baked pasta is a must. Next comes the main event, the meat. Roasted veal, baked chicken, sausages or braised beef are common Natale entrées. Then come the sweets and Christmas cakes once more, all accompanied by wine and spumante (Italian champagne). After a dark espresso, young and old may play tombola (bingo), and then card games. Later, the table is reset and those who not five hours earlier said they'd never eat another thing, gladly come back to the dining room, ready to take the plunge yet again. What else could you call this but buon (good), ala Buon Natale!
Christmas, the style celebrated in Italy, continues the cherished tradition of emphasizing the Christian meaning of the holiday. While gifts are now given on Christmas Day by an American style Santa Claus, Italy holds fast to its tradition of La Befana on the eve of the Epiphany. For most of the country, theirs remains an uncommercial way of celebrating Christmas. Missing are the Santa’s in the stores, the wreaths, the lights, the music, the flashy holiday decorations adorning houses street after street, and the metallic jangle of jingle-bells. Their observance of Christmas is bolstered by the still widespread practice of setting up the sheltering precepe nativity scene centered on the Holy Family, a focus that transfers to the Italian family of today where over the twelve days of Christmas, attention is given to spending time together. And unlike anywhere else, the days gathered around the table, in addition to the bounty before them, create generations of memories. A religious devotion persists with respect to what it’s all about regardless of the exact nature of the underlying backstory of events in the blurry wilderness of history. In small-town Italy, good will toward men and glad tidings of great joy retain their ageless meaning.
From that Rogue Tourist
Paolo
