7 de Velitas
These past weeks many of my students and friends have asked me what are my plans for Thanksgiving. The celebration, that takes place on the fourth Thursday of November each year, is the most popular holiday in the U.S. even rising above Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and the Independence Day on July 4th. However, coming from a foreign country in which this date is not celebrated at all, it is inevitable to feel alien to this tradition (although the 7-days break that the celebration brings with it is something that is enormously appreciated). The feeling is somehow equivalent to the “Semana Santa” in Latinoamerica; I don’t consider myself a religious person, but thank goodness for the long-awaited break that we receive during that week. When I tell people that I will just take the break to catch up with my courses and that I don’t have anything planned for Thanksgiving evening, they just seem to feel sorry for me. I guess this gives them the impression of loneliness/sadness. But the truth is that the date is almost meaningless to me. There is, however, a holiday that I really miss from Colombia and that, as far as I know, is not celebrated in any other country: “La noche de las velitas” or “7 de velitas” celebrated on December 7th of each year.
December 7th officially marks the beginning of Christmas in Colombia. By this time many of the streets in Bogotá (my hometown) are already flooded with colorful twinkling lights and the festive atmosphere is palpable. “Música Decembrina” is ubiquitous in the city; the immortal songs that have accompanied this epoch for generations are played in big and small establishments, radio stations, cars, houses and nearly everywhere. From time to time, it is common to hear distant explosions of fireworks that are sporadically launched in hidden streets (fireworks are illegal in Bogotá and other big cities in Colombia). The main parks in the city are illuminated with flashy lights and Christmas ornaments, and thousands of pedestrians converge to these vivid places during the night to walk, take pictures and enjoy the food that merchants sell in small stalls located all over the place. It is hard to describe it, but during those days the inclement city just seems to be less hostil, at least for some lucky ones.
At dusk on the 7th, people gather to formally welcome the hearty spirit to the city through a simple but warm tradition. Families and friends light candles in front of their houses and gather on the sidewalks to share, eat, drink, and celebrate the arrival of December. The celebration, that originally had a religious connotation, was gradually losing most of its religious symbolism as the popular tradition grew to overthrow the clerical ceremony. As simple as it sounds, this symbolic act is widely embraced along the city and has an enormous meaning for me.
The tradition, for as long as I can remember, has been blissfully celebrated by my family for years. I am sure that the enthusiasm with which my family enjoys the festivity every year can be attributed to my grandfather, Baronio Lizarazo — El Pa’ — who always showed an enormous fervor for the tradition and who, in life, made sure that everything was always prepared for this special night. Not only did he use to gather my uncles to join us every year for the celebration, but he also was able to transform this quite simple tradition into an unmissable date for the family.
The dedication with which he prepared the candles that were to be lit each year made them the best of our street. I don’t know exactly how he came up with this ingenious idea, but he devised a convenient way to set up the candles in the sidewalk so that the wind didn’t blow them out (this is a challenge in a city like Bogotá). He used to fill paper bags with sand and dig a small, not too deep hole, so that the candles could be inserted into it, giving them the stability to stand for hours while the outer paper bags formed a shield against the wind, being diaphanous enough so the candles were able to illuminate vigorously. My grandfather was also prepared for more severe weather conditions. Even after rainy afternoons, when the sidewalk was still wet, he had clever ideas to overcome any sort of circumstances, as it is illustrated in the next picture. The date deserved all his wit.
I remember how my grandfather would start all the preparation of the bags from the early afternoon so that everything was ready for the night. Sometimes he would let me help him in this endeavor and I still have vivid memories of filling the bags with sand and arranging them in trays to then be transported easily to the street in the evening. My grandfather needed to meet the high demand of bags that were required for the celebration every year and usually all this process could take hours. I would like to mention that the original design has been gradually modernized to include paper lanterns around the candles to create a colorful spectacle on the sidewalk. Our candles are still nowadays the best ones of our street.
Along with the preparation of the bags, my grandmother would also be very busy coordinating all the logistics of the event. This included inviting my relatives to the celebration, providing enough food and drinks for all the attendees, and preparing chairs, tables, and other stuff for the night. The music was usually taken care of by my uncle Omar or my uncle Hernando, they would set up the stereo such that we could play “Música navideña” in the street, granting the appropriate musical environment for the festivity.
Finally, after hours of careful preparation, and when the darkness slowly embraced the city, dozens of the bags were then placed along the sidewalk covering the front part of my grandfather’s house, my uncle and aunt’s house (just next to the former one) and my mother’s house, located crossing the street. Chairs were taken out from the houses and put in the walk side, music was played, and drinks were served. Everything was then ready for the celebration.
It is hard to imagine how such a simple tradition would become that relevant for our family, but here are some partially unexpected facts that made the celebration so special. First and foremost, the celebration has always been a perfect excuse to break the strict routines of city life and to bring my family together. My uncles would usually find the time to set aside their many responsibilities to come to visit my grandparents and to spend some time with them. When I was a kid, this was always the chance to see my cousins and I remember that I would wait anxiously during the day to hang out with them. As kids, we were given crucial responsibilities to keep the celebration running smoothly. First, we helped to locate all the candles along the sidewalk, keeping them evenly spaced between each other and located appropriately so they could cover the front part of the three houses. After this, we were in charge of lighting the candles, being careful not to burn the paper bags (or ourselves). It sounds like an easy task, but with the wind against you, and with the paper being as fragile as it is, this duty can become a real challenge. Afterwards, once all the candles were lit, we oversaw the whole operation patrolling along the walk side, staying vigilant to put out any fire that the wind may provoke during the lifetime of the candles. Every time a fire would break out, we would alert everybody about the situation and quickly run to take control over it. Honestly, due to the natural fascination that we all experiment around fire, sometimes we would intentionally push the paper bag so that it would get reached by the fire and in that way, we could play the firefighters. Even as a grown-up, I still like to see how the fire consumes the paper bags and to burn other materials when nobody sees me (I’m sorry Madre).
As you can imagine, having this enormous responsibility as a kid is a huge deal. Me and my cousins were always the center of attention during this day and probably that’s why we all have these magic memories; my grandparents, mother, sister, and uncles always made sure that the night was very special for us and that we enjoyed the celebration. I am pretty sure that we really treasure all these moments up to this day.
Of course, while all the kids were playing, my uncles had the chance to chat, share drinks and food, and to delegate, for an instant, all the hardships of parenthood to the celebration. The tradition has always been an excuse for being together.
The joy was always contagious, and our neighbors would stop by to say hello, people passing by would give us compliments for the candles and we would also interact with people around. Even my cat decided to get involved in the celebration (sometimes).
Time has passed, and things are quite different now. 10 years ago, we spent the last December with my grandfather. He passed away in January 2014 and 6 years later, my grandmother also left us. December has never been the same since then, and it is inevitable to feel a bit sad on these holidays. On every December 31, when 12 o’clock approaches, and when we all wprepare for the new year, I always remember my grandmother, who would always give me the strongest of all hugs and the warmest of all wishes and I just cannot stop tears from falling. We remember them with great affection, and we miss them a lot.
However, despite my grandparents no longer being with us, my uncles have kept all these traditions alive. They still meet to celebrate Velitas every year, and they do whatever it takes to shelter the magic of this month. Every December, my uncle Omar and my aunt Martha would sacredly visit my grandmother to help her to arrange everything for Christmas, and even up to this day, when she is no longer around, they still visit us during those dates to help set up the Christmas tree and the “Pesebre”. My uncle Toño and my aunt Aurora still use the same strategy to prepare the candles! I bet they also spend a lot of time organizing everything and the celebration still takes place in their house (where my grandparents used to live). I just cannot think of a better way to honor the memory of my grandparents and I profoundly appreciate all their effort and their company.
The guardians of the candles are now my nephews, and every year we try to transmit to them the same fascination that we had as kids, they are now the main protagonists of Christmas at my house, and they just fill every day with so much joy and love.
Although we still steal some protagonism when possible.
The tradition has lasted even during the most uncertain times, and I am fairly sure we will try to keep it like that for as long as possible.
Now that I am not longer in Colombia during this special date, I must content myself with the photos that my family always send me and that really cheer me up during the final weeks of the academic semester. I also try to light my own candle but this is usually an insult compared to all that my grandparents used to do for this day.
Anyways, this is a tradition that I have always loved and that I miss a lot! It makes me happy that my family keeps this alive and that we have an enjoyable way to praise the memory of our loved ones. Finally I’m glad to have the opportunity to share this with my friends in the U.S. through Medium.
Para Madre y el Pa’: Nos seguimos reuniendo, seguimos celebrando y nos seguimos manteniendo juntos, justo como nos enseñaron. Nuestras navidades todavía están llenas de alegría y disfrutamos con muchísimo entusiasmo cada festividad que nos recuerda todo el amor que un día nos brindaron. El pesebre se arma cada año, en el mismo lugar donde con tanta devoción lo armaban. Nos reunimos a su alrededor y nos refugiamos en él. Intentamos rezar la novena sin reírnos y la entrega de regalos es cuidadosamente coordinada como siempre. Los buñuelos, la natilla, el masato y las empanadas nunca faltan y seguimos poniendo las canciones que tanto les gustaban. Los extrañamos muchísimo y los llevamos en el corazón en cada novena, cada abrazo y cada año nuevo que vivimos.
