Traditions, and the war against the cold

Meet 'Teddy'.

This 8-inch-tall furry fellow is my Mexican wife's latest weapon in the war against the British winter.

If having three duvets on the bed at night isn't enough (with Jacks more often than not wearing her down coat to sleep), we now share our space with a cute Teddy covered hot water bottle.

Naked Teddy

And winter has only just begun.

Since arriving from San Diego/Tijuana seven months ago it's fair to say we've invested heavily in combating the onslaught of a traditional British winter.

Jacks has never experienced one before.

This time last year we were preparing our Thanksgiving meal in board shorts and t-shirts whilst contemplating heading to the beach at the weekend.

This time last year Jacks had never heard of 'central heating' or 'hot water bottles'.

This year, right now, we're donning hats and scarves in the house, and seriously contemplating hibernating until the spring.

In the last month my wife has well and truly discovered the joys of shopping – notably in charity shops.

So much so that I'm also contemplating buying a bigger house just to accommodate her new 'wardrobe'.

Jacks arrived here in the UK in May with one thin San Diego-style jacket/coat (i.e. a cardigan).

By my count she now has eight 'proper' coats. Oh, and enough scarves to shake a stick at.

In the last few weeks we've properly experienced some very English traditions as a couple – Bonfire Night being one.

Our friends in Mexico and San Diego have been asking us: "What the hell is going on in those pictures?! "

Bonfire Night on Plymouth Hoe

Simple, that is to someone from these shores.

Guy Fawkes night.

Traditions are weird right? I mean, when you're from a different area of the world experiencing something for the first time.

What one culture thinks is perfectly normal, another finds completely weird – bordering on bonkers.

In Mexico they have the ’Dia De La Muerta’ (’Day of the Dead’) during which dead people’s lives are celebrated.

At first I thought that fairly weird – not least wandering into a Mexican supermarket in downtown Tijuana to be greeted by a full-sized altar complete with skulls and cobwebs.

But after being told what it’s all about (celebrating the lives of those who've passed) it didn’t seem so sinister.

However, you try explaining the tradition of Guy Fawkes night…

"Well, you throw an effigy of a ’man’ (or 'guy') onto a fire, and everyone stands around watching it slowly burn generally while having a good time. "

Cue confused, (almost frightened) look.

"It's a real family occasion," I said now desperately trying to convince Jacks that it's not really that weird.

"People come from all around... thousands in fact. They have fireworks and everything!"

Plenty of 'oohs and ahhhs' going on here...

They even have sparklers!

"Remind me of the story of Bonfire Night," Jacks asked me by now looking more perplexed.

"Well… some guy called Guy Fawkes (who apparently was a bit of bastard), tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament in ffuuuussssbvvvvv um… – anyway, the date doesn’t matter.

"They caught him, and they burned him alive, thus creating the reference throwing a 'guy' on the fire."

When you consider it, our tradition is much more sinister-sounding than the 'Dia de la Muerta' right?

So anyway, it's cold here and it's only going to get colder.

I keep asking Jacks if she's still 'happy' here.

She hasn't said 'no' yet so I think I've found a keeper.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

Whizz Bang Pop!!!

‘REMEMBER remember the fifth of November’ I muttered in earshot of Jacky’s dad this morning as I poured myself a coffee.

“Por que?” (Why?) he asked.

Oh, um… because it’s Guy Fawkes night in England.

“What is Guy Fawkes?” he asked pressing further.

Oh god, I thought. How on earth, after criticizing Mexico’s bizarre behavior in celebrating a national ‘Day of the Dead’, can I describe this?

I ended up giving it to him straight.

“There was this man, centuries ago, who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament. He got caught, and was burned at the stake on a pyre.”

Cue bizarre look from my adopted father figure which hints of shock, surprise and confusion in equal measure.

“We celebrate it every year by building bonfires and throwing a ‘Guy’ effigy… onto the fire.”

Cue further raising of eyebrows.

“But we do let off fireworks too, which are nice…”

“Ah, si si…” he adds.

I think that little dit was lost in translation and he now thinks England is a country of sadistic Satan-worshipping weirdos.

Oh well. On reflection our acts on November  5^th are pretty strange when you actually sit down and think about it.

We celebrate the murder of someone by re-enacting it thousands of times in one day across the whole breadth of the country.

And it’s a real family event.

Here in Mexico Halloween and the days that follow are a big deal.

It’s actually a three-day festival centred around remembering and celebrating the lives of those that have been lost in time.

Of course there is Halloween on October 31st, but there’s also the ‘Day of the Dead Children’ on November 1^st, and the ‘Day of the Dead’ on November 2^nd which is a national bank holiday.

Jacky told me it’s one of the most traditional festivals in Mexico.

Everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE you go there are displays marking the occasion.

Cheery eh?

You go to a supermarket and there, next to the traditional Halloween costumes, sweets and devil forks, are shrines complete with brightly-coloured flowers, lit candles, and food offerings to the gods.

‘Pan de Muerta’ (cake of death) is also sold all over the place.

I’m not sure what ‘death’ tastes like, but these things are good.

Dun dun da... cake of death!!!

This week I've also been practicing my ‘idiot abroad’ skills.

For example, we’re in town and I’m looking for a cashpoint.

I see a sign stating ‘banco’ and amble off to get some money.

It’s only when we’re approaching the building that Jacky starts laughing at me.

“You won’t get money here,” she tells me grinning.

“They’ll take something from you, but they won’t give you money.”

Of course it’s a ‘banco de sangre’ or, in English, a ‘blood bank’.

Hmmmm… that could have been weird…