Growing up in Australia, December 25 meant swimming in the backyard pool, playing cricket on the beach, and eating cold prawns for lunch.
Whenever I watched American holiday movies, I felt like I was witnessing a completely different, surreal celebration unfold, complete with snow, fireplaces, and people bundled up in heavy coats.
Those movies might as well have been depicting the holiday on another planet — I didn’t even see snow in real life until I visited Europe as an adult.
It never occurred to me how strange my Christmas could seem to others until my American wife moved to Australia and we celebrated together for the first time in 2014.
I didn’t get my wife’s feelings about Christmas until I celebrated with her in the US
On my wife and I’s first Christmas together in Australia, the weather was pushing 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
We spent a lot of time outside and ate fresh seafood, just as I always did. In Australia, we often queue at fish markets before dawn on Christmas to get the best prawns and oysters.
That evening, while walking along the beach, my wife said the day just didn’t feel right.
The heat, people wearing shorts and T-shirts, waiting until 10 p.m. for it to get dark enough to see holiday lights — it was all so foreign to her.
She joked that Christmas here felt like the Fourth of July with jingle bells. I thought she was overreacting, as this was all I’d ever known.
Two years later, when we celebrated with her family in Texas, I finally understood what she meant. This time, I was the one experiencing culture shock.
We wore sweaters indoors, the lights came on at 4:30 p.m., and we ate turkey, stuffing, and other heavy comfort dishes in front of an open fire while drinking eggnog.
My father-in-law insisted we watch the Dallas Cowboys on TV, which struck me as strange when I was used to playing cricket.
Despite never experiencing this before, the whole ordeal felt oddly familiar because I’d watched all those holiday movies.
However, the hardest adjustment was being inside so much. Back home, we spend most of the day outdoors — in the backyard, at the beach, and playing games in the pool.
But I loved this American Christmas celebration, even though I did miss having a pool to jump in.
We now fly to the US every year, and I can’t go back to celebrating Christmas in the summer
Our family has spent nine of the past 10 Decembers in the US.
The one time in the past decade that we stayed in Australia for Christmas honestly felt strange, as I’d become so accustomed to the cold-weather version of the holidays.
Last year, we even took my sons to Chicago, braving the 20-degree temperatures for our most festive holiday yet.
Watching my family drink hot chocolate from giant mugs at Christkindlmarket while bundled up in gloves and scarves made the season even more special. Shops had gone all-out with decorations, and the early sunset meant the lights came on before 5 p.m.
The fact that the holiday classic “Home Alone” was filmed in the area only added to the sense that we’d stepped into the ultimate winter celebration.
Looking back, I finally understand what my wife meant that first year. Christmas really does feel different when it’s cold and dark, even if you spent your whole childhood thinking prawns by the pool was perfectly normal.
If there’s one thing I do miss about celebrating back home, though, it’s the sun, outdoors, and energy of summer. However, that’s not enough to give up my new traditions — especially since my wife won’t have it any other way.
As for which is better? I’ll have to plead the Fifth.
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