Merīkurisumasu

Christmas here is odd, if it weren’t for the fairy light-wrapped trees and the Frozen soundtrack blaring from shop speakers, you’d barely know it was happening. There was no 10pm Christmas Eve manic rush, no Hollywood-level fights over the last Barbie aeroplane, no shoppers acting as though they were preparing rations for the apocalypse/ the one day a year supermarkets are closed.

Although I’m not particularly sentimental, spending Christmas approximately 9280km from home was a bit strange and sad. I avoided Facebook all day, I didn’t need to see everyone who got to spend Christmas with their families.

I decided to venture out to Harajuku for the afternoon, fill the void with silly extravagant purchases and take myself out for lunch. I didn’t really find much (except an exceptional pair of purple, holographic platform boots), which was probably good. I went to Madosh Avocado cafe, met a cat on the street and played dress up in RagTag. Although I was in this incredibly manic, magical place, doing all the things I loved, I still felt a bit hollow. I longed to be watching American Horror Story and making fun of my extended family with my mum and sister, dressing their dog up in his Santa outfit and perusing online Boxing Day sales. It seemed strange to be all alone.

I got back to the accommodation to the sweetest, most haphazard Orphan’s Christmas with the other CRCC interns. Although we were all somewhat displaced and alone, we were alone together. With our subpar cooking facilities (and abilities), it was the motliest assortment that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did (much like ourselves).