Many full moons ago, traditional classics like “Jingle Bells” dominated the radio and school Christmas parties, and we rocked around the trees and danced in the halls, dreaming of joy to the world.
The perennial holiday favourites by Americans, Brenda Lee and Bobby Helms, accompanied sedate pieces like “Feliz Navidad” by the blind Puerto Rican crooner, Jose Feliciano, played under the watchful gaze of our smiling teachers and the occasional indulgent parents, who showed all signs of stopping, scowling and staying, minus the corn or rare microwave for popping.
We cavorted in casual clothes with our pigtails and ponytails, and barely a shapely thigh or arm exposed, stuffing ourselves with peanuts, pine-tarts and patties, oblivious to the absence of any foreign chestnuts roasting, since all open fires were banned outside of the laboratories, canteen, and kitchen.
