2023 Christmas story: Christmas creatures

It was the night before Christmas and the dinner was meant to be an exercise in pre-wedding cross-cultural diplomacy... that fell apart almost as quickly as the curry chicken-stuffed tacos they had prepared painstakingly.

The air-conditioner decided it was tired of pointlessly attempting to cool an equatorial environment to anywhere near a festive Yuletide chill and stopped. Frantic calls were met with utter indifference – there was an epidemic of cooling-unit failures, and overworked maintenance elves could be dispatched only after the 12 days of Christmas had jingled by.

An overhead fan circulated warm, humid air as two sets of future in-laws and their offspring sat across from one another, separated by a barrier of too much food and a lack of a common language save for one offspring who could speak both English and Spanish but was quickly tiring.

To make up for their inability to converse fluently, yet wanting to show hospitality and care, both sets of in-laws continued to gesture at the different dishes and ply one another’s plates with yet more uneaten food.

Yiting pretended not to see her future mother-in-law wince as she took a tentative bite of the buah keluak-flavoured Mexican rice and beans.

To her left, her father was doing his best to lift the curry-soaked taco to his mouth before it completely unravelled. It was a futile effort.

In solidarity, Luis’ father similarly allowed his own taco to fall apart – both men looked at each other and grimaced-smiled while their spouses valiantly continued to chat about the weather using creative hand signals and ingenious facial expressions.

“It’s possible we went overboard trying to mix everything together,” Luis muttered on Yiting’s right. Behind him, the bright red, white, and green handmade sign that read “A Merry Peraxican Christmas!” sagged in agreement.

Yiting coughed into her hand. “If only I hadn’t washed the buah keluak so well, we could have been dead from cyanide poisoning and the misery would be over.”

“Que?” Luis’ father asked. He seemed eager to have something to do other than mime what his hobbies were.

Yiting gulped. She couldn’t leave the translating to Luis. She was up. “Umm... tu... quiero... quieres... erm, dessert?”

“Usted,” Luis hissed.

“Tu quieres... erm, usted?”

Luis facepalmed in Spanish.

“Dessert is a good idea,” said Yiting’s mother with a nod, putting her fork down with a little too much relief.

Luis shot up from his seat. “I’ll get it.”

“Not without me you won’t,” Yiting muttered as she tossed her napkin on her seat and practically ran after her soon-to-be-life-partner to the kitchen.

Yiting slumped as she dumped the plates in the sink. “I just asked your father if he wanted himself... formally.”

Luis yanked open the refrigerator, and they stood there looking at the dessert that seemed like a good idea just two weeks ago. The eco-friendly fridge beeped in protest at its door being held open for too long.

“The Merlion chocolates might have been a bit much...”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Merlions symbolise Singapore and chocolates are for my Aztec heritage,’” Yiting replied.

“I have no idea why you listen to me,” Luis said. “I never make any sense.”

As she carried out the Merlion chocolates next to the cut pineapples covered with chilli flakes, Yiting wondered what she was doing with her life. She couldn’t even keep to a 30-day language-learning app streak, which, by the way, never taught her the Spanish word for dessert.

“Ay! Son alebrijes!” Luis’ mother gestured at the plate, her face lighting up.

“What?” Yiting asked. She turned to Luis. “What?”

Luis’ eyes were wide. He looked down at the chocolates and pineapples and turned to Yiting. “It’s a Tropical Christmas Miracle, dude.”

“What?” Yiting asked again. “What?”

Luis turned to his future in-laws. “Auntie, Uncle.” He turned to his parents. “Mama, Papa. We got this specially for you. Nosotros hicimos esto especialmente para ustedes!”

“We what?” Yiting gaped.

“It was Yiting’s idea, actually.” He pointed at Yiting. “Inteligente.”

“Si,” Yiting agreed. She had no idea what was happening.

“The alebrije, like the Merlion, is a chimaera,” Luis paused. “I don’t actually know how to say ‘chimaera’ in Spanish. Never mind. El Merlion es el alebrije de Singapur.”

Yiting frowned. “The Merlion is a Singapore alebrije? What?”

Luis made a face at her.

Yiting slowly nodded. Si. She was inteligente after all.

“The alebrije is a mythical and magical creature that Mexican culture prizes not only as art pieces, but also as a sign of good luck!”

As if good luck had immediately entered their lives by this amazing revelation, Luis’ father rushed to their bags and pulled out small paper mache alebrijes that he held out to Yiting’s parents, saying, “Regalo para Navidad! Christmas! Christmas present. For you!”

“Oh wow,” Yiting said.

“We couldn’t have made this up,” Luis replied.

Yiting and Luis slumped on the couch watching their parents look happily at the beautiful Mexican art pieces while eating Merlion chocolates and chilli-flaked pineapples.

“I think, next year, we go Japan for Christmas.”

“By ourselves.”