By: Caden Choi

Photo Credit: Caden Choi


A messy menagerie of colorful gumdrops atop an unstable gingerbread rooftop. Hot chocolate bombs having trouble melting. Watching cheesy movies with even cheesier popcorn. The smell of pine…from candles. Each year we hotly debate whether our pre-lit stand in for a Douglas fir has entered its final act. These memories conjure the spirit of the Choi family holidays. For us, Christmastime lives up to the hype of its anticipation.

But I wondered what this season had in store for others. What were their customs, their traditions, their memories? I reached out to some of our family’s closest friends to find out.    

First on my list: Auntie Taly— not by DNA, but she practically knew me before I was born. When she’s not practicing for her next ballroom dance competition, she’s celebrating the holidays and all of life’s milestones through the lens of her Peruvian heritage.

On Christmas, her family would eat a late dinner and head over to midnight mass. And if that wasn’t late enough, they would open presents only after returning home. These days, they’ve moved everything up by a few hours, but the tradition remains. On New Year’s, the family would wear yellow, which in Peru represents the “start of something new.” Along the same thread, they would burn old clothing to “get rid of the old.”

Photo Credit: NixonScan.com

Next: Auntie Marian, the sage, who had as many stories to tell as white hairs on her head. She told me that she grew up in a Jewish household that respected all cultures and traditions. It’s no wonder that she became the first female vice president of the NAACP in the Inland Empire.

When she had a family of her own, she started celebrating Kwanzaa. “I wanted the kids to learn more about their father’s heritage, so they could learn more about their own roots,” Marian said. “Kwanzaa,” she clarified, “is not a religious holiday, but a cultural one.” She went on to explain the significance of the seven candles (Mishumaa Saba) that are lit during the holiday. They represent the “cultures and the values of the African people.” She noted the first is a black candle, representing the African people. This is followed by six alternating green and red candles, the last one representing faith.

Photo Credit: Marian Scatliff

“On the seventh night, there’s a big feast,” Marian added. She would cook cornmeal cookies, sesame-seed benne desserts, jollof rice pilaf and Shōkó beef stew, a Ghanaian dish made with onions, spinach and tomatoes. She laughed as she recalled the first time she tried making the stew. “An hour into cooking, it wasn’t smelling like anything. I realized my crock pot wasn’t working, and eight guests were already on their way!”

Lastly: Ms. Marlyn. She spent Thanksgiving with us this year. Over turkey and mashed potatoes, she filled our hungry ears with stories of her family’s Jewish holidays traditions.

Her favorite part of Hanukkah, otherwise known as the “Festival of Lights” was the menorah and what it represented. “When the temple was destroyed,” Marlyn shared, “the oil that was left behind was only supposed to be enough to light the candles to last a day, but it lasted eight. It was a miracle. That’s why we cook everything in oil.” Her favorite Hanukkah dish growing up was latkes, a classic Jewish version of potato pancakes. A close second was sufganiyot, deep fried donuts with jelly for sweetness. She’s never been a huge fan of fried foods, but gastronomical splurging has become a staple of her family’s holidays.

Photo Credit: WFMT.com

Then there were the unforgettable moments. Marlyn recalls that each night she would gather around the menorah her mother, father, brother and sister. “We would light candles every night, from right to left. I always liked lighting the candles, the idea of miracles, the notion of ‘let there be light.'” Of course, Hanukkah wouldn’t be Hanukkah without some fun and laughter around the dreidel. Its four sides contain Hebrew letters which together spell out “a miracle happened here.” The game can be played with candy or coins, but in Marlyn’s home, they played with peanuts.

No matter their traditions, for these friends, this season has been a time of family, celebration and remembrance. I asked Auntie Taly for a childhood photo during the holidays. She said she had none. She and her family fled Peru with only the clothes on their backs. “But we carried our memories with us,” she said.