The Ghosts of Christmas Present

Originally written December 30, 2006

Every night I find myself dreaming of ghosts that shouldn’t be, and every night we have the most thoughtful of conversations together.

One of the many concerns we were left with before coming to Hong Kong was what would become of those holidays traditions we held so closely. Would I spend these moments alone, surrounded by the strangers of the most common variety? Our concerns were quite justified after our initial impressions of what reality lied in store.

Christmas Eve has come to find us once again. But this was no vacation, for who we are and what we have done, the events of this night would have had the same result had all the saints of faith and hope been with us.

With crowds numbering in the millions set against the backdrop above, they gathered together to watch Jesus’ fireworks launched from the harbor to the distraction of all. Millions of lives going about a holiday tradition, everywhere you tried to move, every shoulder dropped to plow your way through the crowds. They were in your presence, real and imaginary; they were together, celebrating a moment whether or not they understood the meaning of it all. They were there together, and I was alone. In a crowd of millions, the gweilo was nowhere to be found.

We found solace at the most westernized restaurant one could find on the shores of Kowloon in Tsim Sha Tsui. Three extravagant women from the law school, alone in their own ways to this island, but sharing together with the crowds a common language and culture. As entertaining as one could find; the girls wondering whether the complimentary glass of champaign were too strong for their tastes. Entertaining, but never fulfilling.

As Christmas approached us on the dark side of the moon, you would find me beneath the streets of Nathan Road. Through the crowd of beggars and tourists, the locals and untouchables. Through the wooden framed entrance and down the creaky spiral stairs. The last Irish pub any of us would ever come to know.

The air was musty, old wood and cigar smoke gave the room its particular character. The faintest of sounds could still be heard above the clamor of crowd above. A Celtic romance we were, this bar and me. Taken back to the times we remember so vividly, and we are together again. The lonesome attempt at Christmas decorations, the holiday spirit permeating the air, my people welcoming me back home again. The Irish bar, underneath the streets of ancient Hong Kong, waiting for me to join the ghosts of the evening. I pull close to my place at the bar, and the mainland lass behind it knows exactly what to bring. Staring down into that shot of Jameson, watching the world spin herself out of control, the fireworks above signaling that Christmas morning was here.

The bar is quiet now, and the patrons have all gone home to be with their family and loved ones. I sit there, smiling to the stars that only I can see, talking to the ghosts that have traveled the world over with me. We talk of the adventures on the island that we never shared, we speak of the memories here that we were never knew. And the ghosts of Christmas Present acknowledge my refuge for this one moment, they accept me for who I am tonight and allow me to revel in the moment.

The lights dim to near darkness. Left alone in the bar, once again they come to me in waves. I hear them, and finally understand what they want from me. Dancing and singing they may be, filling the bar with light and laughter. We revel in our memories and the adventures in store, we speak of those that have made this moment possible, and imaginary and real come together as one.

I have seen things that would make an ordinary man tremble in his steps. I have done things that would make any good Christian soldier repent for his soul. The ghosts speak to me of what lies in store, of what was and what will never be, until that day then. Until that day we wake up.

Holding our pint in my hand, the coldness of the glass was all I felt as they showed me how this story was supposes to end. Numb to reality, knowing there was no way back now, I understood the meaning of it all. I believed in them, just as they believed in me, that they will be with me until that day then.