New Year’s Customs from Around the World

Excerpt #1 from Ex Mentis Saxonicum, available in paperback (140 pp.) from the author (rgferrell@gmail.com)

Whilst rummaging randomly through some of my notes (mostly B flats and G sharps), I lost sight of the horizon and plummeted headfirst into a pile of particularly dank pages. After close inspection and some drying in the sunlight, they proved to be cryptic little snatches concerning the New Year’s customs followed by various peoples at various periods in history. At least, I think this is what they’re about. They may be references to the use of copper bedpans during the Crimean war, or perhaps an analysis of the behavior patterns of Hoopoes (Upupa epops) during courtship flights over the coast of Brittany, but I’m fairly certain that they’ve got something to do with New Year’s customs. I’m going to present them, or as much of them as I can decipher, as though that were the case. If they don’t seem to make sense to you in this context, imagine how I feel.

Some ancient peoples put out fires on New Year’s, only to have them started right back up again by other equally ancient peoples. This behavior seems pointless, but it probably helped to while away the tedious hours during the long, bleak winters with nothing to eat but wooly mammoth jerky and yak’s milk. The ancient Romans gave each other gifts of branches from sacred trees as New Year’s gifts. Or at least they told each other they were from sacred trees. More likely they were wrenched off that sickly old shrub out behind the aqueduct when it finally succumbed to root rot. It was never a good idea to trust Romans on the subject of forestry. It was never a good idea to trust Romans.

They also gave each other gold-covered coins or nuts with the likeness of the two-faced god Janus engraved on them. I don’t know how one engraves on a nut, but I expect it is messy and frustrating, leading most probably to the fed up gift-giver simply chucking the whole project out the window and substituting a small rind of goat’s cheese with the image of Elvis outlined on it in mold. We’ve all done that, at one time or another.

The ancient Persians gave each other mice and catnip. No, wait, the ancient Persians gave each other eggs, to suggest productivity, or possibly to increase their calcium intake. All eggs suggest to me is omelet, but maybe I’m not reading this the right way. Maybe we’re not thinking of the same kind of eggs. Maybe I’d better shut up and move on before I get further away from the topic.

The Druids got rid of the mistletoe that had been accumulating on their trees all year by handing it out to their Celtic parishioners and calling it ‘sacred.’ "Here, my son, I bless you with this sprig of poisonous plant parasite. No, don’t hold it that way; you’ll put an eye out."

In 43 A. D. the untrustworthy Romans, who had been sailing around for quite a while looking for a new supply of sacred trees, landed in Britain, sore and stiff from the cramped voyage with nothing to eat but moldy cheese and aborted nut-sculptures. It took only 1,200 years for the progressive and quick-witted inhabitants to adopt the Roman custom of rulers asking their populace for New Year’s gifts. This custom died out in Rome because the royal palaces got so filled with dead tree branches that it became impossible to carry out any of the functions of government. In the British Isles, however, the rulers were a bit more clever, and demanded things like gold and jewelry as gifts. This was a period (roughly 1250 A. D. up to last Tuesday) of great prosperity for the British Crown, although the nut supply did run low on several occasions.

In Scotland the New Year brings a peculiar form of insanity (the Scots have as many varieties of insanity as Eskimos have of snow) that is characterized by collecting juniper and water at sunset, assigning different colors to the wind depending on the direction from which it blows, avoiding cats, beggars, women, or redheads as unlucky, and giving each other gifts of coal and whiskey. To make matters even worse, it is also considered bad luck to engage in marriage proposals, break glass, spin flax, sweep, or carry out garbage on New Year’s Eve. I’m a Scot on my mother’s side. Can you tell?

Down in Somerset, meanwhile, the largest tree that can be found is called the Apple Tree Man, for no readily apparent reason, especially given that it is not a man, at all. Apple cider is poured on its roots and lower branches, while cake and toasted bread soaked in cider are hung from the branches. Shouting, banging tin plates, firing shotguns, and splitting the bark of the tree are all carried out, supposedly to drive away evil spirits. I suspect that the enthusiasm, if not the deftness, with which these rituals are carried out is directly proportional to how much wassailing goes on immediately prior to the ceremonies. Songs and toasts are made with considerable abandon. Later, bands of men called (imaginatively) wassails go from house to house with a wassail bowl collecting money. There is evidently nothing that can be done about this.

Many American colonists celebrated the New Year by firing guns into the air and shouting. These early settlers had an ingenious arrangement whereby the colonists on the first floor did the shooting, which was followed immediately by those on the second floor shouting, often accompanied by a loud thumping or flopping. New Year’s wasn’t by all accounts a really safe time to be higher in elevation than the rest of the celebrants. Another custom of this period was to choose a random passage from whatever translation of the Bible happened to suit your lifestyle best and then use various parts of it to predict what would happen in the coming year. This practice eventually evolved into the Congressional budget process still in use today.

I like to celebrate New Year’s by stuffing myself silly and then sleeping the rest of the day, but then I’m just a superstitious old fool.

Games for Girls

            An essential component of the Ferrell household standard bathroom equipment manifest is a basket near the toilet containing a variety of reading material. Most of this fine literature takes the form of cartoon compilations (for me) or flower arranging/embroidery books (for my wife), but every now and then something odd will creep into the stable. Today I was riffling through the deepest stratum of the bathroom inventory when I came across a little pink tome titled, AGames for Girl Scouts.@ 

That’s a real head-scratcher: we don=t have any children personally, and nor are there any tots in what might be termed our neighborhood (we live in the middle, or at least on the edge, of nowhere) who could carelessly have left such a volume in or near the aforementioned facilities. Having read all the cartoon books cover to cover several dozen times and not feeling particularly receptive to discovering cunning new ways to arrange Stargazer lilies in a cut glass vase, I opted to thumb through the anomalous codex. 

            As I read through the respectable collection of activities suggested for keeping a dozen squealing young girls entertained while scout leader tries desperately to think of some excuse to have next week's meeting at someone else's house, I couldn’t help but think that the games themselves were hopelessly outdatedBnot surprising since the copyright dates for the book were 1949 and 1969. In the interest of contributing to more topical living rooms and backyards everywhere, I have decided to modernize a few of the most hopelessly antiquated examples.    

          

Math Mirth

Two goals are marked out, several yards apart, representing the Aboardroom@ and the Afederal courthouse.@ One player is the Aprosecutor,@ another the ACEO,@ and the rest the Aaccountants.@  The CEO arranges her accountants in a compact group, then leads them close to the courthouse and asks, AIf you please, Ms. Prosecutor, have you any indictments?@ If the Prosecutor replies, Ano,@ the accountants are safe and free to hide capital gains or otherwise doctor the books. After a few moments the CEO once again stands between the prosecutor and accountants and asks her question. If the answer is, Ayes,@ they must run to the boardroom. The prosecutor chases them. If any of the accountants are caught, they are taken to the courthouse and Aincarcerated@ and the next round begins. When all the accountants are doing time or if the CEO herself is caught, the game is over.

Cheerleader Moms

Two girls are chosen as Amoms,@ the rest are Acheerleaders.@ Each mom secretly picks a cheerleader as her own and using ping-pong balls tries to Atake out@ all the other cheerleaders by hitting each of them with a ball without getting caught. If a mom is seen throwing the ball by the other mom, she is Aout@ and the game starts again. Play continues until one mom takes out all the cheerleaders but her own or there aren’t enough girls left to carry on. No one actually wins.

Migration

One girl is chosen for each of the following Acivilization@ roles: ASUV,@ AMega-Mart, AUrban Sprawl,@ and ASlash and Burn.@ The rest are Aendangered species@ and represent the Aenvironment.@  Two Ahabitats@ are marked out, approximately ten yards apart. Half the endangered species start at one habitat, the remaining half at the one opposite, while the civilization girls stand midway between the habitats. The endangered species must run to the opposite habitat without being tagged by civilization. Tagged species are Aextinct@ and leave the game. The surviving species must then return to their original habitat, once again without being tagged. If any of the endangered species makes the round trip untagged, the environment wins. Otherwise civilization wins and everyone dies from some super pandemic caused by a lack of genetic diversity. Bummer.

War on Terror

All the girls get together in a huddle and accuse each other of hating democracy until one of them is labeled a Aterrorist@ and held in solitary confinement without benefit of counsel; i.e., she is out of the game. The process repeats until only one girl is left. She declares Amission accomplished@ and lobbies Congress to have the 22^nd Amendment repealed so she can stay in office for life. At that point the game is over and everyone else emigrates.

I should probably stop before I get bitter.

Cruise Lose

           Congratulations, bargain-savvy traveler, on your choice of a Minimal Cholera Cruise Lines economy cruise aboard our proud flagship, the M/S Abrasion. Your adventure in thrifty vacationing begins sharply at 0400 the day prior to your departure as you form a queue for the pre-boarding boarding (boing!) queue. You will notice three areas denoted by ‘condiment’ trails on the floor of the loading dock (which to keep our costs down doubles as a slaughterhouse when not in use for boarding): the ‘ketchup’ area is for our Premium-class passengers, who will be processed in the luxury pens with mosquito netting on the left, and naturally will be boarded long before you even glimpse the ship; the ‘mustard’ area is for Cruise-class passengers who will have no more than a thirty-six hour wait to board; and the ‘expired mayonnaise’ area is reserved for Economy-class passengers, also known by the technical term ‘ballast.’ While there are no seats in the Economy-class waiting area, passengers are welcome to make use of the hooks suspended from chains attached to the ceiling every twenty feet for their convenience. Bring along paper towels for an optimal experience.

            As soon as the Cruise-class passengers have completed the pre-boarding process and are boarding the ship along the Cruise-class gangplank through the engine room, the Economy-class pre-boarding will begin. During pre-boarding you will be divested of any cash, credit cards, weapons, or dignity you may be carrying in order to ensure your “safety.” (Thanks for the idea, TSA!) You will be issued an MCCL “Power of Attorney” Card that you can use to charge alcoholic beverages, upgrades to show seating, spa visits, potable water, breathing air, and final resting place arrangements. Your photo and a DNA sample will be taken to simplify identification of bodies by the Coast Guard. You may also purchase elegantly framed copies of this photo or the printout of your DNA electrophoresis gel using the POA Card.

            When all Economy-class passengers have undergone the pre-boarding humiliation process, boarding can begin. Passengers will enter the boarding catapult and be given one free chance to land on either the fore or aft decks. If the initial attempt is unsuccessful, passengers will be fished out of the water and may elect to place the charge for trying again on the POA Card.

            Once on board, all passengers will report immediately to their assigned cabins to prepare for the abandon ship drill. Economy-class cabins are located in the lower decks, just below the engine room, in the area known in nautical terminology as the “bilge.” Access to the Economy-class cabins is provided via a series of ladders located on the extreme stern end of the ship. Passenger baggage will be lowered via a block and tackle system located on the lowest deck served by elevators, the Thresher deck. Gratuities for the baggage manglers will be charged to your POA Card.

            As soon as passengers have reached their cabins, they should immediately don their life vests by removing the cushions from their cabin chairs and slipping their arms through the straps on the lower side. Thus equipped, they should report to their assigned evacuation assembly points, which for economy-class passengers are located in front of the retro-fitted torpedo tubes that run alongside the main engine shafts. Diving masks to minimize eye damage in case of emergency evacuation are available for a fee that will be charged to your POA Card.

            After the abandon ship drill has been completed, passengers are free to return to their cabins. Economy-class cabins are configured a bit differently from all others. Once you have replaced the two chair cushions, stand on one of the chairs, hug the left wall as closely as possible, and pull the lever on that wall just above your head. This will drop the bed from the ceiling. Be certain any other occupants of the cabin are standing out in the gangway prior to dropping the bed to avoid concussions. If you do get a concussion, a small complimentary service charge will appear on your POA Card.

            There is a hatch in the floor of each cabin that provides storage space for your luggage. Please make use of the complimentary plastic zip bags before you store items in the floor compartment, as it gets a bit damp down there. If the door is difficult to open, climb up to the engine room and ask one of the mechanic’s mates for some oil.  The resident rats will not bother you so long as you keep them well-fed and avoid placing or retrieving luggage with the scent of cheese on your hands. Rat bites will be charged to your POA Card.

            The M/S Abrasion has a wide variety of entertainment, some of which can be accessed by Economy-class passengers (hereafter referred to as “Ecs”). On the Lusitania Deck there are three Casinos available to Ecs: Loaded Dice, Five Aces, and House Wins. Minimum bet is $5 at all tables and maximum winnings are $250. Losses are limited to the tax-accessed value of your total real property, plus interest. All losses and winnings will be deducted from your POA Card.

            While the Piano Bars are reserved for Cruise and Premium class passengers, Ecs may visit either the Accordion or Cowbell Bars on the Morro Castle Deck. To reduce the hazards of second-hand smoke to our non-smoking passengers, smoking is allowed only at odd-numbered tables. Cover charges and mandatory tips will be placed on the POA Card.

            For Ecs kiddies, the Cyclops Deck is the Place to Be. We’ve combined our popular petting zoo and ball pit play zones into a new concept that is exclusive to the M/S Abrasion: the Ball Python Pit. There is also the Marine-go-round, where children maneuver on the rotating ship’s wheel, trying not to be the one flung through an open porthole when it suddenly stops Flingees may be retrieved for a nominal charge to your POA Card.

If none of these activities hits the spot, grab the swim trunks and head up to the Andrea Doria Deck and our unique Adventurequarium, where kids can actually swim with such exotic sea creatures as lionfish, stonefish, stingrays, and blue-ringed octopus. Resuscitation, antivenin, emergency amputation, or any other medical procedures resulting from Adventurequarium encounters will be billed to your POA Card.

            The jogging track, tennis courts, and miniature golf course of the uppermost decks are off limits to Ecs, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get in a little fun in the sun. On both the port and starboard sides of Grandcamp Deck there are nets strung exclusively for our Ecs. Merely leap from the deck into the net (don’t miss) and enjoy the sun for as long as you like. When you’ve had enough sun, just crawl over to one end and drop off on the deck below. Try to hit the foam mats placed there for your safety (unless some prankster has run off with them again). Any resulting medical charges will, of course, be placed on your POA Card.

            We have even arranged an exciting shore adventure exclusively for Ecs. On day four of your cruise we will be docking off the beautiful uninhabited archipelago of Puerto de Ratas while we rendezvous with a refueling tanker and any of our Ecs who wish may climb down the starboard ladder, jump in the warm waters of the lagoon, and swim to shore to explore a wild, untamed Caribbean island. We advise anyone who wants to take part in this excursion to please report to the medical office the day prior to receive a series of precautionary inoculations. Re-boarding will be accomplished by slinging a rope over from the lowest deck and hauling Ecs back up one at a time. All of this will, naturally, be charged to your POA Card.

            When we return to our home port, Ecs are free to disembark as soon as the last of the crew has left. Once you have cleared customs through the disembarkation chutes, Ecs passengers may pick through the baggage pile on the dock and carry away any fragments of their belongings that may have survived the drop from the Quarterdeck.

            Thank you for sailing with Minimal Cholera Cruise Lines and we hope that, in the unlikely event you succeed in paying off the POA Card and choose to join us on the High Seas once more, you won’t be such an insufferable cheapskate.