Myrtle Claus
It's already December 5. Saint Nicholas. Hot chocolate and filled speculaas. Banquet Bar. Chocolate letters. Melancholy because I think back to that typical Dutch party? Putting on shoes? Singing songs by the heating or being convinced that you see a white fungus on the roofs? Well no. Not really.
You get melancholy from things that are no longer there. Sinterklaas just moved with us and we still celebrate his feast. Although it has changed somewhat over the years.
Once, about 10 years ago
When the youth here were still of kindergarten and primary school age, exciting times began with the arrival of Saint Nicholas in the Netherlands. We all watched the Sinterklaas news together, in which the Italian husband in particular could be very concerned whether the steamer/the large book/the packages (delete as appropriate) would be found in time.
Once a week we put a shoe at the front door, with carrot, sugar cubes and water, so that the Italy Piet did not have to search too much and his horse could have a pit stop before they would visit the other Dutch children.
Of course songs were sung loudly, with Sinterklaas Kapoentje being the absolute favourite, because it was nice and short. I e-mailed or faxed the wish lists directly to the Good Saint himself. Or I quickly texted a forgotten gift from the list.
In the meantime I anxiously kept an eye on the postman for the package with traditional Sinterklaas treats, wrapping paper and presents that 'Sinteroma' had delivered every year. Often with quite a few obstacles. Tantetje Post did not always deliver on time. And one year the Sinterklaas box just didn't arrive at all.
Sinterklaas with some Italian help
When it was finally December 5th, the loud banging on the door was eagerly awaited. Our grinning neighbor Peppe just saw Piet run away every year. However, he was never quick enough to stop him and thank him for the stuffed bag on the doormat.
We drank a large cup of chocolate milk with Peppe and his wife to get rid of all the emotions. And while the children unpacked the packages one by one with red caps, we ate pastry bars and speculoos.
Not so long ago
In the absence of comparative material to turn the doubt into certainty, it took quite a while for the eldest to realize that something was not right. He was amazed that classmates genuinely believed in Santa Claus who could fly through the sky with sleigh and reindeer. But his great imagination prevented him from drawing that line to that other children's party.
We then conspired for a while until the youngest also started to suspect something and from that moment on the run-up to Sinterklaas changed. Of course we put on shoes and we made lists, but the cheerful and expectant tension that was so part of Sinterklaas and Christmas Eve was gone.
Sinterklaas today
Nowadays we forget to watch the entry. The Sinterklaas news goes past us. And when husband suddenly starts singing a Sinterklaas song in a mixture of Italian and Dutch, he is kindly requested to stop. The youth here have reached the age where parents who act "crazy" are not appreciated.
But we still celebrate Sinterklaas. For a few years now, we have been drawing lots with a Dutch friend and her daughter. We don't do surprises, but the gift you buy does come with a poem. In Dutch of course. And at least ten lines long. Every year, the youth struggles a bit with these demands, but afterwards they are proud of what they have rhymed together.
On December 5, the presents disappear together with some small things in the alternative Sinterklaas bag filled with Styrofoam balls. Then the party starts. Including chocolate milk and speculoos. And with lots of laughter and fun.
Stress
So when I think of Sinterklaas, it is not with melancholy. Although, maybe a little bit if I remember those tense children's desserts from a few years ago. Stressed out describes my state of mind better right now. There is still a lot to do before it's that time again tonight. Find some small gifts. Making packages. Writing poems, also for the smaller craziness. Baking a Santa Claus cake. And all that before five o'clock this afternoon. Help, I'm getting stuffy in Spanish!
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