Expats and Creating Traditions

As an expat and a child of immigrants, I sometimes feel guilty about the kinds of traditions I am providing for my children. Many religious or pagan rituals are much more work to create as an individual rather than as a member of a family or community. Alone, you are responsible for the traditions, decorations, food, and the energetic element of festivity.

As a Jew married to a Christian (and I am a very non-religious Jew married to a very non-religious Christian), it is hard to recreate any hallmark holidays. I am generally disturbed by the commercialization of most Judeo-Christian festivities, which makes them feel even more alien.

My parents were immigrants from Israel and did not have strong Jewish identities; they were both non-religious. As they say, “cultural Jews.” But I didn’t feel like much of a cultural Jew. I felt like a daughter of Israelis. I felt connected to Israel, Middle Eastern food, some Hebrew songs, and history. But the religious rituals were pretty unfamiliar. They didn’t touch me, except for Passover, in which the kids got to steal the “matzo” and hold the adults ransom. The adults need the matzo to complete the prayers, so while they are busy with other prayers, singing, and eating, the kids devise a plan to steal and hide the matzo. And it was fun.

Now that I think about Passover, I think about dipping apples in honey for a sweet new year, dipping hard-boiled eggs in salt water for the tears we cried, eating bitter herbs for everything we have to swallow... Oh, those are all Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), so I am confused. It all blurs together for me. I love the symbolism of food and life. I love the idea of rituals, but the burden of creating them by myself feels daunting.

Have I failed my children by not transmitting traditions? We have watched a YouTube video or two about Hanukkah and the miracle of the oil lasting eight nights. We have created a few of our own traditions. We are not good Christians either. We will join an Easter egg hunt if invited and love to decorate a Christmas tree, but we don’t have any special ornaments or rituals surrounding it.

One year, Niels told the kids they would need to sing a Christmas song in German to receive their presents. He said he had to sing to get his gifts as a child. It sounded cruel to me, but who am I to argue with tradition?

This brings me to the next thought: as expats, we have the incredible opportunity to let go of traditions that don’t serve us and that we don’t want to carry on. By living in another country, we give our children a different perspective on life with varied traditions. Some they are involved in, and others they watch from the outside, peering in. They get more perspective on the world. They become a bit of realists. They are not confined to the “old way.”

My oldest declared when he was six that Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter Bunny were lies. We didn’t fight for him to believe. Was that wrong? He told us matter-of-factly that he knew it was all coming from us. Why lie to him? And I thought he was right. When we spent time with friends whose children believed in Santa, he had to swear not to blow it.

One Christmas, when he was seven, we were in NYC visiting friends and family. We were at Jackie’s (one of my closest childhood friends) apartment at the annual Christmas party. I had always lived vicariously through Jackie. Her family was Jewish but loved Christmas. They celebrated Christmas better than Christians, it seemed. They made a ritual out of decorating the tree. It was an all-out celebration. The decorations were stored year after year, and new ones were always added. They picked names to fill another family member’s stocking with lots of cute insider jokes and items. They had an annual Christmas Eve party, inviting friends and family. Jackie’s dad made the best chili ever. I waited all year for it. I ate enough for a whole family. The trick was that it was made of pork, veal, and beef. There was a small toppings bar right next to the heaping pot of chili. You could add raw onions, grated cheese, sour cream, and maybe parsley?

Jackie’s Christmas Day was a whole day of opening presents in their pajamas. They would each open one present at a time, and the family would watch, taking turns. On Christmas night, I would meet Jackie at a neighborhood coffee shop as she recounted her presents to me. I felt like a very unlucky Jew. Jackie’s parents had created the magic and tradition.

So, when Luca was seven and we were at Jackie’s apartment for the annual Christmas Eve party, he knew he could not blow the secret of Santa. Jackie’s boys, who are exactly one year older and one year younger than Luca, had an app that tracked Santa’s progress and approximate arrival time to your location. Luca couldn’t believe it.

So why am I telling you all of this? Well, I was just in Italy visiting some very dear friends with Sophia (who is nine), and it was Easter. I wasn’t even really aware of the timing when I booked. But Sophia felt and enjoyed the tradition. The feeling of Easter. The family traditions. The extended family does the same thing year after year. And I felt guilt. Or wondered if I should feel like my kids were cheated, as I often felt, in the midst of a full-blown Christmas in NYC.

But then I remembered our best family tradition that we hold on to year after year: birthdays full of early morning homemade cakes, candles, singing, and presents right in bed. Our kids look forward to the rest of us disrupting their sleep with our loud voices and bedhead. We sing in as many languages as possible. We bring gifts to be opened even before their teeth are brushed. This is one of the few traditions that is distinctly ours. We also try to maximize the number of wrapped presents, even if a few just happen to be something totally insignificant like a candle or a package of Mentos. We have become the masters of prank gifts just to extend the gift unwrapping!

So what conscious choices do you make in terms of celebrating and creating your family’s culture?

Is what we omit from our upbringing as important as what we pass on?

How can we create more meaning in our traditions?

How do we bring two cultures together (each family is in a way a separate culture) in one family?

And how do you do all of that in the routine of everyday life?

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