In mainland China, at least in 1999, they didn’t celebrate - or even
acknowledge - Christmas. The brutal winters fit that line from “The
lion, the witch and the wardrobe” where Narnia is described as
“always winter and never Christmas.”

I was teaching English for a major university in Beijing, China. It
was fall semester, and one of our sections was an overview of
American holidays. We had a drab government issue workbook with inane
Mad-lib style fill-in holiday related sentences that was somewhere
between infantile and oppressive.

As we began the lesson on Christmas, I mentioned a few familiar
Christmas traditions - including gift-giving and Christmas caroling.
One of the students eagerly raised her hand with the obvious question
“Can we do that?”

You need to keep in mind that in the People’s Republic of China,
pretty much everything has been illegal at one time or another. In
fact, during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s and ’70s, Chairman
Mao had compiled a list of “Social Parasites.” These were the
categories of people who deserved no respect or legal rights.
Teachers were between prostitutes and beggars.

And I had heard a vague rumor that there was to be no Christmas
Caroling in hotel lobbies.

As a typical oblivious and optimistic American I said, “Sure, let’s do that.”

What teacher, especially far from home, would not want their students
to experience, first hand, an American tradition?

I invited two of my classes to meet at the lobby of the “Foreign
experts” apartment building where I was living. This place, at best,
was a nearly one star hotel - with the added feature of two or three
women at the front desk (who spoke no English) who were our
“watchers.”

These were older women who were always baffled, if not annoyed, by
their foreign residents. I was probably the only resident from the US
in the building. One of the “watchers” found my comings and goings
amusing instead of bothersome.

The watcher’s job was to “monitor” us and sign in every visitor.

Another “watcher” was the woman in her early 30s who was the faculty
advisor and helper for the “foreign” teachers working for the
university. She had told me that she was a member of one of the
illegal “underground churches” - I invited her to join us Christmas
caroling - she, of course, was far to smart to join us.

On the appointed evening I found about 50 students packed in my
lobby. The “watchers” were scared and horrified. There is nothing
like a crowd in China when it comes to attracting official - and
unwelcome - attention.

The front desk “watcher,” who was usually amused, was now in
hysterics. Somehow she knew I had something to do with this.

I passed out about 20 candles and 30 copies of song sheets with the
first verses of many familiar Christmas carols - Jingle Bells, Silent
Night, O, Little Town of Bethlehem, O, Holy Night and a few more.

There were a few more people than song sheets, so the students
clustered in groups of two or three as we sang the Christmas carols
around the campus. It was a cold and clear evening and our voices
softly echoed across the barren concrete campus.

After singing for about 20 minutes, I was leading the group between
two large buildings when a man rushed out and started yelling in
Chinese.

I had to grab one of my students to find out what he was saying. He
was with campus security and was irate that we had an unauthorized
group (the authorities are overly sensitive about gatherings -
perhaps for good reason) and that we had lit candles.

We stopped singing, and most of the group blew out their candles.

I suggested heading back to my apartment where we could have hot
chocolate (which virtually none of the students had tasted before)
and I had collected a large pile of wrapped cassette tapes and books
for gifts.

As we turned toward my apartment, most of the candles we re-lit and
many of the students were softly singing.

As we entered the lobby of my building, the “watchers” were again
horrified - first of all because we were returning (among other
problems, all guests were supposed to sign in, but this was
impossible with such a large group) and, perhaps even worst of all,
there was an important phone call - for me - from the head of campus
security. He was furious - and spoke no English. I had to grab a
student to take the call and interpret for me.

The head of security wanted to know my name, my department, my
supervisor, and my apartment number. I knew that I was in trouble -
Chinese style.

I answered these questions as the rest of the students went up to my
apartment where hot cocoa and gifts were waiting.

All the students were having a wonderful time when I finally made it
to my apartment. They each had a gift and their fill of hot
chocolate. After about an hour they all left and a few students
helped me clean up my apartment.

I was exhausted, but I knew that, for me at least, the party wasn’t over.

The next afternoon my phone rang. It was my official faculty
“watcher.” She was laughing so hard she could barely speak.

She told me that I was in big trouble and needed to explain and
document this “cultural experience” of Christmas caroling.

I was required to submit a copy of the song sheet we used and “proof”
that our activity was merely a traditional American holiday
tradition. I also had to give a reasonable estimate of the number of
students involved.

Before she hung up she said, “You only have two weeks left on your
contract, and I don’t think you’re going to make it.”

I compiled and submitted all that, and I am sure there is a bulky
file somewhere in Beijing with my name on it.

The next evening, in the frigid darkness, I heard a faint echo of
singing coming from the far corners of the campus. I had never heard
that before.

About two weeks later my faculty “watcher” drove me to the airport.
Long before this, she had called me her “little trouble-maker.” I
could tell she wanted to make sure I got on my plane, but maybe, just
maybe, she was a little sorry to see me go.