Meant to throw the students a small Christmas Eve party, since finals started on Christmas Day -- but showed up to evening class to find the classroom looking like a holiday shop exploded, and the kids wearing Santa hats, grinning proudly next to stacks of presents.
I think they'd been a bit worried about me since I explained that for me, Christmas is like Losar (which is a 15-day celebration of the lunar new year so important to a Tib family that they would most likely throw themselves from the nearest bridge if they couldn't go home for it). At least five times a day for the last week, someone would ask, "But are you lonely, teacher?"
The party descended into madness when we inexplicably obtained special permission from the very reluctant headmaster to stay in the classroom past the 9:30 "lights out" -- which literally means the breaker is shut off and the entire campus goes dark. A dance rave ensued, followed by fireworks in the school field (and fireworks in China, even fireworks that are sold to children on the street, are always of the explode-in-the-sky-like-the-Fourth-of-July variety).
Spent Christmas Day at the Wuti festival in the neighboring village, watching almost-naked men cover themselves in ash, paint tiger stripes and leopard spots on their body, then run through the village with slabs of yak meat hanging out of their mouths collecting bread on giant spears to appease the mountain gods. Not exactly baby Jesus and the three wise men, but certainly festive.
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