Christmas away from home

Christmas is family affair and for Christians, whatever the nationality, we take that to heart. But on two Christmases in the past, I found myself away from the Philippines, both in colder environments. My first Christmas outside of the Philippines was in Hanoi, in 1984. In 1991, it was in Versailles, France. At the end of the conference, I attended with three other Filipinos in Ho Chi Minh (formerly Saigon) in December 1984, we were asked if we wanted to go to Hanoi. My other companions, from the academe and labor unions, declined the invitation, as they didn't want to spend Christmas away from home. It's seldom that one gets an invitation to communist Hanoi so I readily said "yes." It was only nine years after the end of the Vietnam war. Vietnam was heavily under the influence of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, which as the name conveyed, it had not yet disintegrated. Mikhail Gorbachev and his perestroika which inspired Vietnam's Doi Moi (renovation) were not in anybody's imagination yet. Early the next day, I was put in a military plane which was carrying a high-ranking military official to Hanoi. The moment I landed in Hanoi, I felt the huge difference between South and North Vietnam: the weather. Ho Chi Minh City, the capital of South Vietnam, is a tropical city just like Manila. The temperature hovers around 70 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Hanoi is cold, just like a European village. Temperature in Hanoi in December is down to 50 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Since the Hanoi trip was not planned, I was not dressed for it. At the airport, I already developed allergies. The guide assigned to me noticed it so the moment we got to the hotel, she requested for warm clothes and overcoat for me. That was communist efficiency at work. I stayed at Thang Loi hotel, built by the Cubans. It was a lovely, sprawling hotel, a huge part of it built on stilts over Ho Tay (West Lake). Through the gaps of the wood floor slabs, I could see fish on the lake underneath. From my room, I had to cross a wooden bridge to the dining room where the foreigners I saw were Russians and Cubans. Thang Loi was a charming hotel. The signs were in French and Vietnamese. The curtains had flower designs and the bedding had lace ruffles. While my colleagues in Manila were busy with their last minute Christmas shopping, I was peering at the waxed remains of Ho Chi Minh, the inspiration and founder of Vietnam's liberation movement, and looking at the craters caused by American bombs. Christmas eve was so serene with only the swishing sound of the water underneath. Then came from somewhere the soft, angelic sound of "Silent Night, Holy Night". It was beautiful. Upon my request, my host arranged my visit with the Philippine embassy. The ambassador then was a kindly, retired military officer Juan Cruz. (The Philippine government then a misguided war-mentality when it came to Vietnam so for many years it was sending retired military officers as ambassadors.) The number two guy in the embassy was a very competent career officer Ernesto Castro. (Ernie died a few years ago in a freak accident. He was electrocuted while taking a shower in his home in Ilocos.) At that time, Hanoi was not a favorite destination of Filipinos so Ambassador Cruz and the very small Filipino community were glad to have me as visitor for their Christmas feast. I remember we had lechon and arroz valenciana. When I went back to Hanoi in 1990 to cover the visit of then Foreign Secretary Raul Manglapus, I made it a point to drop by Thang Loi. They had the same menu in French and Vietnamese but it had lost a lot of its charm. It looked rundown. I made two more visits to Vietnam, which had overtaken the Philippines in economic growth, after that but never again in Christmas. Christmas in Versailles was part of my holiday in France in 1991. Needless to say, I was freezing. With my friend, who hosted me for the visit, we toured the magnificent Château de Versailles, located some 20 kilometers southwest of Paris. The seat of power of ancient France in the 17th century, half a day is not enough to absorb the grandeur of Versailles. The Hall of Mirrors was truly splendid. We had dinner in the place of the French-Peruvian friend of my friend. We attended midnight mass in a quaint church in Versailles. I forgot the name of the old church but it's not the grand chapel in the Chateau. I think it was a chapel of the community that served the Chateau's royal residents. This year, I am away from the Philippines but it will be with a family Christmas with my brother's family in Southern California. It's again going to be a very cold Christmas. But there's enough love in our hearts to keep it warm and memorable. Merry Christmas!