There was a time when Christmas WAS Christmas. The Nativity story pervaded the thoughts and actions of most Christians. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men was the staple mantra. It was a time when giving was more important than receiving, when the Christmas spirit brought joy, camaraderie, fellowship, sharing, togetherness and caring. Yes, most of these characteristics can be found in bits and pieces today but overall materialism and selfishness have become the paramount traits. To put it bluntly, the Christ in Christmas has been diffused and Santa Claus has been marginalised.

For most Jamaicans, Christmas is pronounced and intoned as “Chrismus”. Yesteryear, ‘Chrismus’ in Jamaica, unlike now, was a true reflection of the Jamaican persona, cultural practices and folklore. Hospitality, friendliness, warmth, togetherness, kindness; appreciation of familial ties, as well as an exposure to those traditions, that helped to make this nation resilient and strong. In this vein, it’s a pity that the Ministry of Youth and Culture in collaboration with the Jamaica Cultural Development Commission (JCDC) did not see it appropriate to put in place a programme of activities that bring back the “Ole Time Chrismus”.

The breakdown of strong family structure, the divisiveness of our politics and a political culture that makes many citizens feel that getting handouts from their Councillors and Members of Parliament is an entitlement; the increasing failure of the Church to lead by example rather than precept; the cultural penetration from up North via television, cable and the Internet, not to mention the breakdown in values and attitudes, have combined with the steady commercialization of ‘Chrismus’ to make this time of year just an orgy of spending and bacchanalia.

As a boy, we children looked forward to Christmas with great anticipation and expectations. Those Jamaicans who are 50 years old and older will recall the many memorable moments of ‘Ole Time Chrismus’. One favourite joke amongst Montegonians was the story about the little country boy who on paying his first visit to Sam Sharpe Square (it was then called Charles Square or popularly referred to as Parade) and seeing the Christmas Tree, shouted with glee, “Mama, look pon Moon pon stick”, while admiring the huge star at the top.

Christmas Eve was when most youngsters got drunk for the first time or “bruk dem ducks” (first sexual encounter), two not so wholesome experiences without guidance and protection. I recall hanging out at the Jolly Roger Club on St James Street drinking Charley’s (the most popular rum at the time) and Coke (Coca Cola) and in order to make sure I got sufficiently inebriated I would hold down my head to allow the alcohol to descend to my brain. Then in the wee hours of Christmas morning I walked all of six miles to my home in Irwin.

The good thing is that in those days we were not afraid of gunmen. Our greatest fear was “bucking up” a ‘duppy’. Persons were more terrified of “three-foot horse”, “rolling calf” or “duppy man with gold teeth”. And how can one forget the Jonkanno Band with all the various colourful characters that jumped and pranced to the infectious rhythms of drums? “Horse Head”, “Actor Boy”, among others, thrilled both adults and kids. The scariest part, though, was the character with the whip which he would wield and flash in idle mischief. Kids, men and women ran in fear and fun. Nobody got hurt.

St James Street in the second city was blocked off and individuals from all walks of life converged on that busy thoroughfare meeting and greeting one another. Pickpockets and persons with criminal intent were far and few. Many Montegonians living abroad who came home for Christmas saw that as one of the main highlights of their stay. Today, that is no longer the case. Of course, the explosion of fire crackers was ever present. There were two types: the small one known as squib and the bigger one known as “big boom”. There were also water guns and cork guns but the latter was not so popular as if indiscriminately fired could hurt someone’s eye.

How times have changed! Recently when I heard a firecracker I jumped thinking it was a gun being fired instead of shouting “Chrismus!” as we did back in the day. Then there was “fee-fee” and the singing of carols in the early hours along the streets.

Preparing for Christmas Day was an exciting ritual. The sorrel would have already been set and drawn in the yabba (an earthenware bowl); the ice buried in the ground with sawdust; the chicken (fowl) chased and cornered early morning (no fast food in the mix), a bucket placed over its head while it is being decapitated then placed in boiling hot water to be stripped and prepared for cooking. Once I had the task to run down and cut off the chicken’s neck. All went well but I lifted the bucket too early. It was quite a bizarre sight watching the headless chicken running around in circles.

What was amazing is that no one went hungry on Christmas Day in any village. The elderly and shut-ins got special attention. Remarkably, some of this generosity of spirit is still to be found but oftentimes the cynics among us are forced to wonder if it is more of an act of glorified altruism than genuine caring. Indeed, in today’s self-seeking world of media hype and public relations, one wonders to what extent it is a case of conscience rather than compassion.

We need to find a way to bring back those many desirable aspects of “Ole Time Chrismus”. Yeah, gimme back me sweet Jamaica! Merry Christmas to all my readers.

Lloyd B Smith is a Member of Parliament and Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives. The views expressed are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of the People’s National Party.

lloydbsmith@hotmail.com