One of the worst events of an exchange students year, is said to be Christmas. Sadness, to miss, and not-to-have-fun is the predicted conditions, not to mention the hunger of the home country’s traditions. However, without any of these, I faced the upcoming Christmas with a smile; nothing in my world could knock me down. Unfortunately, the output was very different.

A traditional danish Christmas consists, in my family, of a gathering of everybody. Arriving around 04pm, we greet all our relatives by starting small conversations informing ourselves about their health and wellness. It could be questions about American Football, work plans, hobbies, etc.; a very small talk. When everybody feels comfortable, the home-cooked dinner gets served. The tongue and the rest of our senses get overwhelmed in sinus-curved rounds, fulfilling the tastebuds’ wishes with perfection. First there are the potatoes, sweets or not - what you prefer. Second there is the unforgettable, well-temperated duck; not too much and not too little. Third there is the roasted pork with the unimaginable crispy skin, ripped in uniformed units, melting on the tongue. (I’m getting hungry). Fourth - the crown of the dinner -, is the well-prepared salad with walnuts, iceberg, dried currants, vinegar, tomatoes and, sometimes, apples. And of course, all accompanied with THE brown sauce.

There doesn’t exist anything close to this.

As the last pile of the glittered waterfall of dust, is the dessert. Rice pudding with the almond gift. In the pudding is hidden one whole almond. The objective is to find that almond; show it, and you’ll get the gift - chew it in parts, and, well, you would not dare to know, but I can ensure you that you won’t get the pink pork of marzipan; also known as the trophy of all trophies.

The big feast is followed up by the session of singing the danish Christmas carols (many of them have the same melody in English) all together, small ones as well as big ones. Afterwards, we slowly open the presents showing what we’ve got to everybody, along with our deep gratitude, and like this, the night ends about 12pm, driving towards home, satisfied. Sleeping.

My Brazilian Christmas was very different. Certain things as the gathering and the presents were the same, though. But it was more like a party. Yes, there was good food, but what got served was cod, farofa(typically Brazilian mixture of a special prepared flour, bacon, egg and onions), potatoes, salad of apples with a cream of mayonnaise, and a dessert of chocolate mousse besides a cake of strawberries.

Yes. There was music, not traditional Danish Christmas music, but pop-music with Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas, that turned the Christmas-carpet into a dance floor, which, in my opinion, removed the Danish Christmas spirit and the coziness, replacing it with party.

I’m not saying that the Christmas was better or worse, just different. Even though that I now know, that I wouldn’t give up the Danish Christmas for anything in the world, I see, when I look back in the rear-view, that it was a good experience, that made me value my values of my home country.

Besides that, the only thing left to say is: Enjoy the pictures, and a very late very merry Christmas.