Christmas Every Day

John George Edward Henry Douglas Sutherland Campbell, 9th Duke of Argyll and Marquess of Lorne was Governor General of Canada from 1878 to 1883. His wife was Princess Louise, a daughter of Queen Victoria.

If we are to take the caption of this illustration seriously, somewhere in the picture is the viceregal couple. Is he the one waving the chicken or is he holding the wolf skin full of some nasty liquid? Is she crone wrapped up in blankets and peddling apples? Answers on a post-card please.

Here is a photo of the Marquess, to help in your identification.

From the folks at the North American Aerospace Command who track Santa’s progress on Christmas Eve.

Note that his first flight took place on the date of the death of St Nicholas.

A few years ago, my daughter Kate, a professor at Duke University, and I put on our Santa Claus pyjamas and talked about St Nicholas.

In this YouTube video I take a run at Finland and its fiendish plot to steal Santa Claus.

On December 12, the first of the Jólasveinar, the Icelandic Yule Lads, arrives in homes. The first is Stekkjarstaur — Fence Post, Sheep-Cote Clod or Stiff-Legged Sheep Chaser. (His stiff legs come from kneeling on the hard ground to steal the sheep’s milk.) The next is Giljagaur, the Crevice Imp or Gully-Gawk. The smallest is Stúfur, also known as Stumpy or Itty Bitty. Then comes Thvörusleikir, the Spoon Licker, followed by Pottasleikir, Pot Licker, and Askasleikir, Bowl Licker. Hurdarskellir, the Door Slammer is the noisiest of the lads while Skyrgámur, Skyr Gobbler, is partial to the local yoghurt. The crimes of the next two are self-explanatory: Bjúgnakrækir, the Sausage Snatcher and Gluggagægir, the Window Peeper. They are followed by Gattathefur, the Doorway Sniffer, Ketkrókur, the Meat Hook (prone to take to the rafters and steal the meat hanging there to cure) and Kertasnikir, the Candle Beggar. They are all rather ugly and boorish in behaviour, dressed as peasants of centuries ago.

Where once they were feared, and used by parents as a threat to keep children in line during the winter, they are now beloved characters whose arrival is welcomed and who have been woven into the commercial culture, making appearances on radio and television. Children leave out their shoes for them to deposit a treat or small present in the days leading up to Christmas.(Bad kids often receive only a rotten piece of fruit or potato as a sign that they should amend their behaviour.) After December 25 the Lads depart as they came, one by one, until Twelfth Night, January 6, when the Christmas season comes to an end.

From the fascinating Atlas Obscura site cones this account of  west African Christmas.

The Christmas season in Liberia is marked by the sounds of children singing and playing in the streets. Seasonal music plays a large role in cities such as the capital, Monrovia. Mae Azango, a Liberian journalist based there, says that children go from door to door singing Christmas carols and asking for candy. “I mean, the spirit is everywhere,” she says. “It’s an incredibly festive time.”

Azango remembers the year she spent the holidays in the United States, and how she wanted to see a white Christmas for the first time. It didn’t take long for her to miss home. “I missed Liberia so much,” she explains. “I didn’t understand why everyone was locked away in their homes and I couldn’t see anybody on the streets. Where was Old Man Bayka?”

Old Man Bayka—or “Old Man Beggar”—might be considered the opposite of Santa Claus. He’s not necessarily evil, but Old Man Bayka is associated with the “dancing devils,” spirits that come from the world of the Poro, or the “bush,” of Liberia, Sierra Leone, Guinea, and Ivory Coast. In a 2015 NPR story about the dancing devils, former Liberian journalist Max Bankole Jarrett associates the figure with secret societies that have always been part of certain ethnic communities in modern Liberia. These dancing devils used to feature in traditional festivals, before the region was colonized in the early 19th century.

The nation of Liberia began to form when the American Colonization Society, an organization of white men, was founded with the goal of resettling freed Black slaves and free people of color (many of them of mixed race) outside the United States. The plan was predicated on the idea that Black people could never integrate with American society, and was opposed by both the Black community and abolitionists. Colonization societies in five different U.S. states merged their holdings to form a single new colony. With this colony—only a few thousand Black Americans emigrated—came Western traditions and celebrations, Christmas among them. All over the world Christmas has incorporated local, pre-Christian beliefs, so the dancing devil now called Old Man Bayka became a holiday fixture.

Unlike Santa Claus, who gives presents, Old Man Bayka goes from house to house asking for money and gifts for himself. In place of shiny boots and a red jacket trimmed with white fur, “Old Man Bayka wears old clothes,” Azango says. “Sometimes he will have a fake beard on and will have a mask on his face.” Old Man Bayka costumes vary. While some wear baggy old clothing and masks, others travel on stilts or are covered in raffia straw. They are always followed by the sounds of traditional drums.

What makes Old Man Bayka such a central part of the holiday season in Liberia is the spirit of community he carries. According to Azango, many masked dancers portraying the figure are originally from the villages in the country’s interior. “These people dress up as Old Man Bayka to dance and raise money to buy toys to share with the children in their villages,” she says. Not only was Old Man Bayka a source of entertainment for city-dwellers, but he also became a resource for those in different socioeconomic circumstances. Giving them money and gifts was a way to share prosperity in the interests of community.

Old Man Bayka’s fusion with Christmas traditions did not take away his quintessentially Liberian character. “This tradition is really unique to this country,” says Azango. “Everywhere Old Man Bayka goes, children and families are following behind, enjoying the dancing and the music.”

An old Belarusian legend tells of a mother and father walking through the forest with their children, looking for just the right Christmas tree. A fairy appeared holding a beautifully decorated tree covered with ornaments representing all the colors of the rainbow. Alinka, their young daughter, excitedly called out to her mother, “Here is our jalinka.” The delighted family told their neighbors, and the news of this miracle soon spread throughout the country. To replicate the fairy’s tree, people began constructing geometric shapes from straw dyed in an assortment of colors. Today, ubory (the making of straw ornaments) is an art form, which takes a great amount of skill and patience to master.

Here is a guide to the symbolism of such ornaments:

There many of these in North America. Parents are urged to send in pictures of their kids being frightened when meeting Santa. There is never a shortage of entries. 

This time in Switzerland. Note the demonic black creature with the switches and bell next to Saint Nicholas on the lower right of the photo — – that’s Schmutzli, the Swiss equivalent of Krampus or Cert.

Among the contests in this World Championships of Santa Claus is chimney climbing.