In the Czech Republic, it is said you should fast on Christmas Eve. When I taught there for a few years back in my early twenties, my students told me this. They said anyone who fasted until Christmas dinner would get to see the golden pig.
I was an English teacher to Czech high school students and it was not uncommon for there to be gross misunderstandings between us, and those misunderstandings were not always related to my frequent visits to the pub that was run out of the school's first floor. I thought the golden pig might be one of those misunderstandings, but it wasn't.
I'll take a minute here while you reread the last paragraph to confirm that I did, in fact, say there was a pub in the high school. It served beer, wine, and a Czech-brewed liquor called Fernet Stock, the alcoholic equivalent of a colonoscopy for your throat. The pub opened at 10 AM on schooldays. Never has there been a more perfect match of workplace environment to my workplace skills.
Now back to the pig. Apparently, I learned, if you didn't eat until Christmas dinner, you would be rewarded with a hallucination of a golden pig. Some students said it appears on your dining room wall. Some said it shows up anywhere. One student said you'd see it floating out of your window, but I think she said that just to freak me out.
Not a single student of mine could answer why you would ever want to see the golden pig. To this day, it still escapes me. But here's the thing: As a Christmas legend, it's brilliant. It can neither be proven nor disproven. It doesn't happen every year and if it never happens to you at all, that still doesn't mean it's not true. It kicks the stuffing out of, say, a fat man in a red suit who brings you presents for no apparent reason whatsoever.
A fat man my daughter announced at dinner last night she no longer believes in.
She said it quickly, not so much a declaration as a belch, gas that had built up in her until it could be contained no longer. And then it was out there. I think she would have darted under the table if she could have, but doing so would have meant touching all the vegetables she has been squirreling down there since she was three.
"Oh ho!" I said. "You don't believe in Santa Claus?"
"No. I think you are Santa Claus."
"Hmm," my wife joined in. "So what does this mean? Are you not going to write a letter to Santa this year?"
Kathryn turned her eyes to her mom. "Here's what I was thinking," she said. "I know there's no Santa. But these guys," she gestured at the twins who were busy trading green beans and probably would have been traumatized by this whole exchange if they didn't live on planet goofball, "still do. And they are too little to write their own letters to Santa. So I'll keep writing one letter for all of us until they are old enough to do it on their own."
She speared a piece of pork with her fork. "You know, as a favor to them."
We watched her eat in stunned silence, and by silence I mean listening to the twins ask for syrup. After a few minutes, Kathryn asked, "How many more years do you think it'll be before they can write their own letters?"
"Two," I said. "Maybe three. Why?"
"No reason. I was just wondering."
Well I see now that I was wrong but I thought that shot looked like Ghostbusters. Remember the glowing eyes of those dog monsters?
Posted by: Katie | November 17, 2008 at 01:35 PM
I agree with Kris... When you stop believing he stops showing up. It doesn't matter if he hides your stuff in your parents closet... that just means he ran out of room at the North Pole. (Or so I was informed)
I still to this day refer to Santa when talking to my parents about Christmas.... I know better. ;)
Posted by: MissMarie | November 17, 2008 at 01:44 PM
Wait--there's no Santa????
Posted by: googleaddict | November 17, 2008 at 02:25 PM
My daughter is 15 and still refuses to renounce Santa... You know, JUST in case he REALLY does exist.
:-)
Posted by: embee | November 17, 2008 at 03:47 PM
I have five kids aged 2 to 12. They all still believe; or at least that's what they tell us. I have moments where I wish the older three would stop believing as it would be so much less work! LOL
Posted by: Jeanna | November 17, 2008 at 04:25 PM
Our 7-year-old has been coming home from school with stories of non-believers who "know" that Santa is really their parents, and I thought it might be shaking her faith in the jolly old elf. However, my wife simply told her that if another child says it is just her parents, it must be because Santa decided to skip their house due to the kids' bad behavior, and that their parents are picking up the slack.
With regards to the Czech pig tradition, my grandmother was Czech and all she ever told my family about pigs was that she wouldn't eat corn because it was "pig food". ;)
Posted by: choosydad | November 17, 2008 at 05:59 PM
Almost forgot. Everyone is saying that your scary photo was from Amityville Horror. There was actually an almost identical scene from Fright Night, too.
Posted by: choosydad | November 17, 2008 at 06:01 PM
I am nervous about when someone at school tells my son about Santa. But, then again, my 13 year old god daughter is in the don't ask don't tell about Santa phase, and has been for several years now. P.S. I am glad to say that I have found a way to read your blog again!
Posted by: susannah | November 17, 2008 at 08:19 PM
Kathryn is a wise girl... my eight or nine year old caught me red handed trying to yank the lost tooth from under her pillow and immediately burst into tears as the santa-fairy..ponze scheme we had created collapsed around her pillow. Worst day of my life. Her little sister is faking the Santa thing, I am sure, to to save us further horrors. However, she is still a firm believer in fairies (her big sister secretely has been leaving her fairy notes)and I am very proud to see her stand up to the fairy haters on the playground. It ain't easy though.
Posted by: heidi number 2 but whose counting... | November 17, 2008 at 08:54 PM
Well, my daughter is 9. So far as we can tell, she still believes in Santa but she does not believe in God.
Go figure.
Actually, the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced she's onto us and is either a) protecting her little brother from the knowledge or b) protecting her bounty. She's watched "Elf" multiple times, and she knows about the Tooth Fairy shenanigans. Hmmm.
Posted by: Michelle | November 18, 2008 at 07:40 AM
My seven year old son still believes whole heartedly in Santa. We had the Santa talk with our 11 year old daughter a few years ago...I am still traumatized.
I would be fine with my son believing in Santa until the day I die...I don't want to go through that grief again...the shock, anger, disbelief, the questions of "how could you lie to me??!!" Though, I guess the real reason my husband still keep up the ruse is because the look on my children's faces on Christmas morning when they both still believed are memories I will always treasure. So, the stockings will go up once again this year, I know my days are numbered.
Posted by: Angela | November 18, 2008 at 08:52 AM
We have a very dear family friend who is Czech, and when we first met him, we were captivated by the stories that he would tell of us Czechs and their pet "ducks." We didn't understand how they could keep them from shitting all over their houses, but Mirko assured us that the "ducks" could be trained by spanking them and tossing them out in the yard- eventually they learned, he said. They trained them to walk on leashes and had little outfits for them and took them on trips with them- you could even buy train passes for the ducks! Many, many families had them. Why, ducks were the most popular pet in the country!
Imagine what jackasses we felt like when we realized he was saying "dogs" with his very strong Czech accent.
Don't you love misunderstandings?
Posted by: Taylor | November 18, 2008 at 10:32 AM
Just last night, while my oldest (8) of my 3 girls was playing around on my laptop in the kitchen, she commented nonchalantly to me but with a definite smirk that "i think you're Santa". She was so testing me out. I acted just as nonchalantly and with a smirk, responded w/ "Really". Said daughter changed her mind on the spot, saying "No,you're not". Like others here, i think she's on the fence but not wanting to risk a snubbed Santa who leaves her nothing but dumps the mother lode on her 2 little sisters.
Posted by: Cindy | November 18, 2008 at 12:04 PM
Oh my. She is good. You are in trouble when she is a teenager.
Posted by: Michell | November 18, 2008 at 01:14 PM
I thought the movie was Devil Dog, Hound of Hell. A true classic. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077429/
Posted by: Cate | November 18, 2008 at 03:33 PM
That's so mature of her-- I think (and hope) my son will have a similar attitude when this time comes for him.
Oh and by the way, I'll make sure my kids say hi to yours next time they come upon each other on planet goofball.
Posted by: LiteralDan | November 18, 2008 at 06:40 PM
Amityville Horror!!!
Posted by: Jen | November 19, 2008 at 02:19 PM
Did Fernet Stock come in a green bottle? The first time I ever drank alcohol of any kind in my life, it was a Czech liquor that a friend brought back from a year abroad. I was sixteen, and I didn't know you weren't supposed to drink liquor in a large glass. (My parents were teetotalers.) I drank virtually the entire bottle, and it was probably only the several dozen vomiting episodes that kept me out of the hospital. I have never since drank Czech liquor, and I probably never will.
Posted by: Queenie | November 19, 2008 at 02:29 PM
Queenie, I doubt it was Fernet. What you are describing was likely Becherovka, the official vomit-inducing Czech export to countries around the world.
Posted by: Brian | November 19, 2008 at 02:44 PM
The Dad: Thank you so much for replying to my question re: Czech liquor. Now I'll know what kinds to keep an eye out for, so I can never, never drink them again, not ever.
(Also, getting a personal reply from you makes me feel like I've been touched by fame. After all, you got invited to a premier party!)
Posted by: Queenie | November 19, 2008 at 08:08 PM
You've got to admire such a generosity of spirit. And a girl who hedges her bets.
Great site!
Posted by: A Free Man | November 19, 2008 at 11:24 PM
Someone switched your baby with a genius midget at birth.
Posted by: Natalie | November 23, 2008 at 12:01 PM
The best response ever to the "Santa doesn't really exist, does he, Mom?" came from a friend's 13-year-old daughter, spoken with extreme disdain (as only a 13-year-old sister can display) to her much-younger brother who had voiced the question while his mother was still in shock: "Well, BOBBY, Santa Claus is the SPIRIT OF GIVING, so I HOPE he EXISTS!!!" [Read this in the tone of, "YOU ENORMOUS, TURD-FACED DUMMY!" and you'll have the right inflection.] I still use this line with my 16- & 14-year-olds (and myself). I love it.
Posted by: CarolCo | November 25, 2008 at 07:07 AM
Actually, on rereading that I realized it didn't read right (and I know it dilutes my resonse, if anyone's reading it) -- but the quote was "Santa Claus is the SPIRIT OF GIVING, so OF COURSE he EXISTS!!" And of course he does, if that's the definition. Thank goodness.
Posted by: CarolCo | November 25, 2008 at 07:12 AM
As far as the Czech "Golden Pig" myth... I was born and raised there for the first 15 years of my life and I can confirm that it's a very popular tradition in many many households throughout the country at Christmas. Like anything though, myths and traditions are very localized. The whole point behind it is that the golden pig is supposed to bring you luck if you get to see it. we have always followed the fasting tradition in my family but to this day i have not spotted the pig. I'm not loosing hope yet.
To comment on Fernet... it's not that bad hehe
Posted by: Mike | December 19, 2008 at 02:18 PM