What do expats think about Cyprus Christmas?

How does Christmas in Cyprus compare? ALIX NORMAN looks north, south, east and west to find out whether we’re brimming with festive spirit or just a bunch of grinches!

In Cyprus, Easter tends to be a much bigger celebration than Christmas. So the local celebrations (or lack thereof) can often come as a surprise to those raised abroad. We travelled north, south, east and west around the globe, asking foreign-born residents about how the Cyprus Christmas experience differs…

THE ICY NORTH

Founder of the popular Cyherbia Botanical Park, Miranda Tringis moved to Cyprus from Utrecht in the Netherlands when she was just 19. But three decades on, she recalls the Christmases of her youth as if they were yesterday.

“Christmas wasn’t a materialistic thing at all,” she says. “My parents would save all year for gifts, which were delivered by Saint Nicholas on December 5. Out of the northern night, you’d hear a loud knock at the door; when you ran to open it, there was just a sack of gifts and a few footprints in the snow!”

In Holland, says Miranda, St Nicholas is a papal figure in a red cloak and hat, who travels on a white horse. He’d reward good children with gifts, and stuff bad kids into a jute sack and whisk them off to Spain!

“It’s dark and cold in the north,” she adds, “so we’d bring light to our homes with heirloom baubles on a real fir tree, advent candles and lanterns. And we’d go carolling, skate on the frozen lake, and cosy up with chocolate and cinnamon cookies.”

It’s these family moments that Miranda has transposed to life in Cyprus, ensuring her Christmas family dinners consist of “turkey with all the trimmings and multiple delicate courses. Never a free-for-all souvla buffet! I bring in Mediterranean cheer by making decorations from natural materials – pine, fir, branches, and pinecones.

“Though I was initially struck by the lack of Christmas spirit in Cyprus,” she says. “I do understand that it’s much easier to feel truly Christmassy when you’re wrapped up warm against the biting cold! So it’s up to us foreigners to integrate and adapt, to make new traditions that incorporate both cultures.”

THE BALMY SOUTH

“In South Africa, Christmas falls in midsummer!” says Maria Etheridge.

A Paphos-based artist who relocated to Cyprus in 2001, the seasonal celebrations of Maria’s youth were very, very different. “79 years ago, I was born in the province of what was then Transvaal,” she reveals. “We were farming people with family all over the nation, so Christmas was a reason to meet up – relatives poured in, and we’d meet cousins, aunts and uncles we hadn’t seen for months.”

The 25^th began with a morning service at church, followed by a massive braai (barbeque). “We ate meats and salads, Christmas cake drizzled with brandy, and a traditional pudding. Then we’d sit and chat in the shade – it was about 30 degrees in December! – while the children swam and played.

“There was no tree, and no Father Christmas; presents were always useful – clothes or household items. We were certainly not affluent,” Maria adds, “but I felt very blessed. It was magical.”

Despite the simplicity of her younger Christmases, when Maria moved to Cyprus, she was struck by the lack of celebration.

“It’s a much more muted affair here; the family get-togethers seemed much smaller and quieter than I those I was used to. Other than the roundabout decorations and the gaudy shop windows, you almost wouldn’t know it was Christmas!”

THE EXOTIC EAST

In her 50s, corporate administrator Ester Beatty has been based in Cyprus for decades. But she’s brought many of her Filipino traditions to the island.

“Growing up in the Philippines, Christmas was a huge thing,” she smiles. “Though it’s much warmer there than in Cyprus – about 20 degrees in the winter months – we’d start celebrating the birth of Jesus months ahead. Decorations would go up in September, and from December 16 we’d attend church at 4am every morning.”

This Midnight Mass was always followed by an early morning visit to the bakery for pandesal, the traditional Christmas bread, while Christmas Eve saw a midnight feast of noodles and pork.

“The whole family would come together to celebrate Christmas,” says Ester. “We’d use soap to mimic snow on our tree, and hang brightly-coloured lanterns in our windows. And there were always carollers going from house to house – you could hear the drums and guitars from miles away!

When Ester moved to Cyprus, Christmas came as a surprise. “It’s quite low-key compared with the Philippines,” she says. “I still miss the colour and the music, the all-out festivity. But over the years, I’ve seen many of our traditions brought to the island. We light our lanterns, and go carolling at the houses of employers and friends. And we host huge parties every Sunday in December to which everyone and anyone is welcome!”

THE WILD WEST

Raised in rural Kentucky, entrepreneur Kevin Brown moved to Cyprus five years ago with his Cypriot wife. In his 48 years, he’s lived and worked in places as diverse as Costa Rica, Washington DC, and Togo. But nothing compares, he says, to a Kentucky Christmas!

“When I think back to Christmas as a kid, it was all about family and friends. My Mum’s Salvadoran, so December 24 was a time to honour our Hispanic heritage; we’d read the Bible and have a candlelit dinner. But my Dad is American, so on Christmas Day we’d have a huge get together: everyone from the whole community would rock up, and the table was laden with hams, mac and cheese, green bean casseroles, biscuits, fried chicken, monkey bread and banana salad!”

Gifts from Santa were stacked under the tree, while outside, lights covered every yard, rooftop and lamppost.

“And there were sheets of white as far as the eye could see,” Kevin recalls. “We’d make snowmen and snow forts, go sledding and drink hot cocoa with marshmallows. It was absolutely magical.

“In Cyprus,” he adds, “it all seems a lot more muted. Christmas is such a quiet affair, much less commercial. I’ve started taking my daughter to the Fikardou Christmas Village each year; it’s the freaking cutest thing I’ve ever seen! We eat loukoumades and then go to Troodos and pull her round on a sled.

“I do miss the carollers, the snow, the huge family gatherings,” he sighs. “But you can’t go back in time. So we’re just building new traditions as we go.”