Feliz Navidad

Moving to a new place, for me, means immersing myself in its distinct history and culture, and there’s no doubt that Santa Fe earns its nickname the City Different in many ways. Christmas Eve unveils a little more of the city’s charms, with a tradition that exemplifies its Hispanic heritage.

Shoulda used that tripod...

The folks in these parts have long put out farolitos at Christmastime—“little lanterns.” They fill a small, brown paper bag with sand and place a lighted votive candle inside, then line up rows of the farolitos on adobe walls, along walks and driveways, and even on rooftops. Electric farolitos are becoming more common, but on Christmas Eve, the traditional handmade ones are out in force, especially along Santa Fe’s famous Canyon Road.

If you’ve never been here before, Canyon Road is in the old part of town. It’s lined with galleries—very expensive galleries, so many you wonder how they can all stay in business. In some cases, the art spills outside the shops and into courtyards and lawns. For an art lover, walking the street and poking into the galleries is a great way to spend the day, even if you have no intention of dropping a five-figure sum on a new painting for the living room.

Starting in the late 1970s, Canyon Road and nearby side streets also became the focus of a tribute to the farolito tradition. (This info courtesy of the Santa Fe New Mexican, which has an account of last night here, along with better pics than mine…) On Christmas Eve, cars are kept away, merchants and homeowners line their properties with the lights, many galleries open their doors, people sing carols and play music, some generous souls offer free hot cider (other charge for their treats), and thousands of people of all ages come out in all weather to walk the streets and take in the sites.

A little better...

I had the perfect setting last night for my introduction to this holiday fest. A light coating of snow covered the ground, the weather felt wintry but not brutal, and I strolled with natives who knew the ins and outs of the evening. One family sets up a large toy train in their backyard. If you need a quick warm-up, you can find bonfires, or luminarias, set up at key spots, though some looked more like the burning of holiday detritus than carefully organized fires. (And a note on terminology, to show the regionalism of some expressions: What we Santa Feans (“we”—I love it) call farolitos are known as luminarias in Albuquerque.) While the rows of lights are captivating—sometimes set up in patterns, such as the giant peace sign at a school—you have to look up too; one guy sets off what he calls flying farolitos. Heat from the candles propels them into the air, and then they burn up as they float over the festivities below.

Somewhere in the blur, a trombonist plays Christmas carols. Really.

To me, Christmas Eve has always seemed like a family affair centered on the hearth and the tree beside it. But who says that’s how it should be? The farolito walk has the feel of a huge block party in constant motion, with plenty of chances for the large groups of families and friends to stop when they like, meet up with others they know, and then move along. And there’s still plenty of time for the hearthside rituals and private activities at home. Before or after the Canyon Road walk, the locals mark their Christmas Eve with posole, tamales, and biscochitos. In the Burgan homestead, it was my family’s annual ravioli feast. It’s nice to follow the old ways, while adding some new traditions to the mix too. I have a feeling I’ll be back for that Canyon Road walk whenever I’m in Santa Fe on December 24. You should come by for a visit.