Experiencing a city during the festive season is like meeting someone on their wedding day. People tend to be on their best behaviour the day they are getting married. In fact, even the most obnoxious ones are amiable and benign on this day and just so, even the most vicious cities are friendly and becoming in the last quarter of the year. Holidays seem to bring out the most attractive features of every city and it is worth the while to spend the extra dough over inflated costs of flight tickets, hotel reservations and other similar logistical expenditures to be able to partake of all the conviviality.
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For instance, a city like New Delhi which is infamous for all the insidiousness that festers in its dark pockets any other time of the year, does not intimidate as much, as soon as the streets light up for Diwali and Eid. It is hard to hold up one’s guard when wading through seas of happy people on streets swathed in twinkly fairy lights and colourful streamers. The aromas wafting from kitchens where lip-smacking treats are being conjured from scratch further melt away any residues of our guarded self. For a few weeks, the bonhomie and joy brought along by the holiday merriment shines so bright that it illuminates even the darkest nooks and corners and souls.
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I had a chance to spend some time in San Francisco, California over Thanksgiving this year. Now, since San Francisco is not a city of ill repute, there were no preset caution bells ringing in my head. Also, as I have been there several times before, I wasn’t expecting too many new revelations and experiences either. How wrong I was! From the glittery Christmas tree standing tall at Union square to the red and green mistletoes suspended in every display window of multi-storey retail havens like Macy’s and Bloomingdales to the bejewelled Golden Gate Bridge which streaked the night sky like a frozen shooting star to the throngs of happy people crowding every inch of space on the sidewalks – everything was a thousand-fold brighter and more cheerful.
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The husband and I are not big shoppers and so we did not fall victim to the crazy Black Friday shopping fever that afflicts most people during this time of the year. Instead, we were part of a small group of bemused onlookers, sitting with mugs of steaming hot cocoa, soaking up the gleefulness of others lugging bags and bags of great steals. Strangely, the excitement of those who have struck gold on this day of deals and sales after camping for hours outside mega malls, is contagious. It rubs on to even people like us who have little patience and inclination to jostle against others to grab that 100 dollar television at Walmart or that 5 dollar knit dress at H&M. Without spending a dime on retail therapy we ended up feeling pretty uplifted thanks to all the tireless shoppers whose frenzy made for quite a show.
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Food is an integral part of any celebration and Thanksgiving and Christmas are no different. Merry making without the appropriate stomach gratifiers is just as hollow as an éclair without the custard filling. Imagine a Diwali back home without the customary tin boxes of crumbly gujjiyas and namak paares! The mere thought chills me to the bones. Crisp apple strudels with generous helpings of whipped cream, sandwiches filled with turkey stuffing, rich pumpkin flavoured milkshakes, flaky pies and quiches, piping hot coffee with cinnamon sticks and cocoa with cloud-like marshmallow bits floating on the surface were treats of the season we gladly indulged in and then promptly worked off the calories by walking miles through the city’s sharp uphill and downhill streets.
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I have always believed that the best way to get to know a city is by walking its streets. Living by this philosophy, we walked through the alleys of Chinatown with all its Mandarin sign boards, antique shops bursting with Chinese pottery, carved dragons and oriental figurines and vegetable markets with wares spilling out on the side-walks. We walked past the beautifully archaic apartment buildings that snake along either side of most streets around Union square, occasionally peeking through open windows to catch a glimpse of tastefully decorated living rooms of the wealthy. We admired the art galleries dotting Fisherman’s Wharf and of course the vast inky black ocean that stretched placidly into infinity. We even walked through the serpentine hairpin turns of Lombard Street, trying not to get dizzy. And when we could walk no more because our feet had gone leaden and were ready to drop off, the famous San Francisco cable cars came to our rescue.
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A holiday special play at the San Francisco Playhouse theatre, a visit to the land of the bourgeois – Palo Alto – to pay homage to where it all began for us (material for another post), a walk through the cool serenity of Muir Woods (material for yet another post) and several quiescent moments of togetherness later, we were just about ready to give up our jobs and move to California right away. Alas, that is not an option. And so, here I am, back in freezing Detroit, yearning for one glimpse of that crystal blue San Francisco sky. But I will say this: “Every time I make myself a comforting cup of hot cocoa now, I make sure to sprinkle it with a few extra bits of marshmallow, just so that I can close my eyes and let the wisps of steam from my cup and the creaminess of molten marshmallows whisk me back in time to those two beautiful days of colours, sunshine and amity.”
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Preeti Sharma is an MBA and dabbles with creative writing. She also blogs at www.preetisharma84.blogspot.com