Christmas Overseas. Not quite Sandals, Jamaica. But close.

One might think that a country lending itself neither to plumpness nor facial hair would very likely be lacking any apparent affection for that swollen saint named Nicholas. However, Santa is alive and well on the snow-free, but still festive, streets of Hanoi, perhaps thriving like never before as his gutty girth has been whittled down to a slimmer, healthier stature, that is in all but his plush personas. He can be seen zipping to and fro atop his suggestively merry motorbike dropping off Christmas cargo throughout the city. One can only guess what’s inhabiting these precious packages, but chances are it ends with the suffix “emon.”

I had the pristine privilege of riding next to one these decorated delivery boys last Monday, on my 3 speed super cycle that would make any eight year old quake with envy. As most of my general knowledge comes from movie trilogies staring Tim Allen, I was fully aware of the awe-inspiring opportunity that was trailing alongside me. All I had to do was cause him some fatal accident and swipe his business card, a series of actions that would allow me to usurp his yuletide notoriety. However, as soon as this rabid realization began its sweet repose in my mind, I was soon flooded with a wave of sweet recollections of everyone’s favorite wonderboy, JTT. And before I could again raise my head above the water from that rushing river, swiftly flowing down from all things Allen, my ticket to that jolliest of jobs had since left me far behind, pedaling aimlessly.

Well, despite the failure of this seasonally sadistic exploit, I, like my fellow American teachers, was in fact able to spread some Christmas cheer by hosting a few holiday blowouts here at the guesthouse. Beforehand, to prepare, I watched all four House Party films, taking meticulous notes on how to have a truly enjoyable celebration at one’s place of residence. Unfortunately though, contrary to commonly held conceptions, there isn’t much of a thriving hip-hop scene here in Hot-Noi. However, with our powers combined, five ordinary English teachers were able to supply a series of parties that would rival any Gatsby get-together.

The site of these Super Sweet 2000’s was our rooftop, overlooking the busy street of Chua Long. Enough blinking lights were strung throughout this sky scraping structure to give Pottersville a run for its money, sans all those sketchy jitterbug dance joints. However, we did clear off some space for the Charleston, just in case any attendants were afflicted with such aspirations. Then, to further enhance the future festivities, snacks were baked, a process that is nearly nonexistent in Nam. Since you can’t fry or boil a cookie, these morsels were placed in our tiny toaster oven one small, but brimming, batch at a time.

When the students arrived to partake of the party pleasures, they seemed consistently surprised by the amply festive ambience of the place. As some type of gift seems to be the customary commodity for guests, in the individual or collective sense, the refreshment tables filled quickly with local edibles that accentuated the atmosphere. The most popular of these were bulging bags of crustacean flavored crunchies. I’m pretty sure that if you deep fried air, and then smeared it with a healthy helping of prawn residue, you’d have the culinary equivalent of these oceanic delights. But honestly, despite everything about them, they are tasty.

The activities, mostly themed in accordance with the holiday at hand, ranged from Christmas carols to the telling of the Christmas story to simply hanging out. I can’t overemphasize the celebrated slot that singing occupies in Vietnamese culture. As such, most people here have quite impressive pipes. In regards to the party, this ingrained affection rewarded the songs with the favored place on each night’s roster. However, in addition to these varied vehicles of Christmas spirit, some important misconceptions were also mended. That is to say that it’s not the baby Jesus baby who plunges down chimneys and that popular seasonal salutation isn’t “Very Christmas,” but you are close.