The Maniac Next Door: My First Christmas Abroad
“Silent Night” is more traditional, but I guess your harangue counts as a carol
December 25th, 2008 was both my first Christmas in another country and the second time a neighbor threatened me — the first time being the night before.
It was the year I relocated to northeastern China, and it had been a rough and weird few months. After unceremoniously losing my first job, I’d spent a month living with a complete stranger, picked up another job with a pack of crooks who screwed me over at every opportunity, and finally found a nice place for me to bring my oversexed, disproportionately attractive girlfriend. Things were, if not well, then at least stable.
And then it was Christmastime.
Christmas is, naturally, not an official holiday in China but it is very sporadically observed. You’ll see the occasional tree, maybe a creepy Santa statue if you’re lucky. The most season-appropriate thing that year was a lovely fall of snow, a sight only mitigated by the brutal subzero temperatures. Mostly, it was a sign that I’d survived to the end of the year.
I didn’t really celebrate or anything, but I did make a Skype call to my parents because that’s what a good son does. It was about 7:00 PM local time.
