On the Thirteenth Day of Christmas...

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a partridge in a pear tree!" We've all struggled through the familiar carol at one time or another, strenuously trying to remember the odd assortment of gifts that were delivered during each of the twelve days of Christmas. Recently I've begun to thank my lucky stars that such a song was never written in commemoration of the Danish yuletide. Danes do not celebrate a mere twelve days. They double the amount! Beginning on the first of December, they whole-heartedly feast and make merry all the way down to the 24th, which is their "true Christmas." The 25th is an anticlimactic day of cleaning up wrapping paper and pulling out the New Year's decorations.

There are many delightful traditions that garnish this seasonal period of festivity. Paper hearts, an original invention of the renowned Danish author Hans Christian Andersen, are woven by school kids and filled with miniature ginger cookies before being hung on the tree. Christmas calender boxes are opened (each kid gets a little gift for each day of December preceding the 24th), Christmas candles are burned (the wax must recede past a certain mark each night), and Christmas series are watched on TV (a special episode for each day of the month). Houses, public buildings, and pedestrian walkways are bedecked with fresh garlands and brilliant reds and whites. Young and old belt out major-keyed melodies, repeating up to eight verses of complex carols entirely from memory. "Aebleskiver", egg-sized pancake balls, are dipped in berry jam and eaten in large quantities, along with cinnamon rice pudding, vanilla cookie rings, marzipan, chocolate, almonds, mandarins, wassail, and dates. The final crowning act of observance in nearly every Danish home, is an all inclusive ring-dance around the tree. Christmas is not something to be taken lightly!

Although having grown up with several of these traditions infiltrating my home (due to my Danish grandparents), I have been learning much about what is incorporated in a true "dansk jul." Early this morning however, I participated in a tradition that was entirely new to me: The night of Sancta Lucia. As I was preparing to sign off of duty last night, our head dean informed me that I would be accompanying the female freshman students on their annual 13th of December march. This included setting my alarm clock for 2:00 a.m, and unlocking all the students' doors in all four dorms. For what purpose? The answer was simple: how else were the girls supposed to march into each of their sleepy school mate's bedrooms and serenade them? With such a naturally logical answer as that, what else could I do but obey? I spent the wee hours of the morning dashing ahead of the white-clad procession while the girls excitedly followed at my heels, bearing burning candles and singing the "Sancta Lucia" song in boisterous tones. Some of the younger students were not amused. A few of the older ones, however, had been forewarned, and were waiting with either good natured cookies or grumpy buckets of water. It was quite an experience, over all. You never know what may be expected of you when you're an assistant dean in Danmark...