Christmas Memories, Part I.

As I was decorating my home for the holidays this weekend, some of the shapes and colours brought back a wave of memories of Christmas celebrations of my past.

It made me contemplate with a hint of nostalgia the fact that I have adopted and gone through so many different traditions, stretching some forty years back in time. Having lived in so many places in my life, it is inevitable that even the celebration of my Christmas today is a product of my cosmopolitan past.

I have decided to reminiscence over my past celebrations in two posts; today and next Monday. I hope you will enjoy this sentimental walk down the memory lane with me.

I was already born into a family that combined traditions of two cultures; the Czech and the Slovak. I do not remember much from my early years, while we lived under the Tatra mountains in Slovakia. That time seems so far removed from my consciousness today, it comes across almost as an entirely different life. Still, a few odd and amusing details enter my thoughts as I recall these Christmas celebrations during the communist era.

Such as my parents covert attempts to trim the tree the day before Christmas Eve, while my sister and me still believed in the enchanted Christmas in which the tree and the gifts magically appear out of nowhere.
The carp, that used to swim around in our bathtub a few days before the 24th, bought live at a marked, to fulfill its grand destiny and be served at the dinner table, according to a long lived Czech Christmas tradition. Although my parents very quickly abandoned this custom, feeling sorry for the poor creature, unable to inflict it any pain.

I recall our pre Christmas visits to the Tuzex store, located in the stunning and beautiful Tatra mountains. Its concept was the irony of the communism regime, selling western merchandise in exchange for hard currency, to those who were privileged and could afford foreign bills.
The drive would always be a very enchanted one, and always in snow, taking us on deserted roads through breathtaking natural scenery and today I smile with amusement as I recall how we would say that "the trees were covered with whipped cream"...

Finally, the enchantment I felt when watching Cinderella on television, when the broadcast of this famous fairytale in a Slavic version became a tradition during Christmas. The Czech adaptation is still today one of my favorite films, due to its stunning visual and infinitely romantic feel.

Thus I leave you with the final scene of this cinematographic gem, one that still today keeps me spellbound, even though I should long have outgrown the allure of make believe and naive fantasy...

The Autumns Of My Past.

Mushrooms symbolizes to me the autumns of my childhood. As far back as I can remember, we used to go for weekend hikes, to pick mushrooms with my parents. Starting in the end of August all through October, we would walk and comb the woods in the mountains, in the immediate vicinity of my birthplace, when I was a little girl.

I was born under the majestic Tatra Mountains, in north eastern Slovakia, in proximity of the Polish border. This part of Europe contains the most pristine and to date, still unspoiled and undiscovered nature.
I am often told by my parents that they experienced the best part of their lives living under these mountains. When I was a child, I spend almost every afternoon with my father in their vicinity. He would take me on long walks, placing me into a stroller or into a sled, depending on the season. One can say, that I spend the first years of my life mostly outdoors, surrounded by breathtaking nature. Perhaps that is when my incurable love for it was born.

Once I start to remember the autumn hikes taken with my family, I see in my memory the golden an red coloured spots here and there, among all the evergreen spruce trees, with the tall snowy peaks of the Tatras as a backdrop. The last five years out of the thirteen which I spend in my home land, preceding the immigration to Sweden, were spend in a more central part of eastern Slovakia. This is a softer natural environment called "The Slovak Paradise". It is a national park, with rolling hills and a multitude of rich wooded areas, lined by pristine meadows; all perfect for mushroom picking in the early onset of autumn.

My parents continued with this traditional autumn activity even upon our relocation to Sweden. In fact, the Swedish nature was abundant with this forest fruit, as the Swedes, or the Scandinavians for that matter, do not really enjoy mushroom picking as much as the central Europeans do. At least they pick quiet different kinds. I still recall the beautiful autumn weekends, when we returned from long hikes with baskets full of mushrooms and the way my mother would prepare these in the evening. The best ones were neatly cleaned, thinly sliced and dried, to be used later in the year in soups and winter cuisine.

Unfortunately, the tradition of mushroom picking has not been passed onto me, nor my sister, I believe. Today I can no longer adequately distinguish the poisonous ones from the edible ones and therefore I do not dare to pick them. A great shame. Particularly, as my backyard offers a plethora of mushrooms right now and most of them I do indeed recognize from the autumn walks I used to take in my childhood.