A Complete Guide to Venezuelan Christmas

In early September the foreign press made a big fuss because President Maduro “brought Christmas forward” to October 1st. In truth, this is something the Venezuelan leader had done before, nearly always as an effective strategy to cool down political, economic and social tensions.

Press buzz aside, the measure is welcomed by retailers who could seamlessly move from their Halloween decorations to Christmas trees and glittered ornaments. It also generated an incentive for people to buy things “ahead of time,” “before the December price hike,” etc.

But beyond that, the truth is that in Venezuela Christmas is felt way before December 24. In fact, our country is a living example of a famous slogan created by a Colombian radio station: “Since September it feels like December is around the corner.”

Venezuelans have the holidays on their minds during the last trimester, and they start planning the most important gastronomic traditions: hallaca, ham bread and chicken salad.

The hallaca is the main event, with its long preparation often becoming an opportunity for families to gather and catch up. There are many theories concerning its origin. One says that it was created from the scraps that the elites gave to their slaves during colonial times. Another is that it takes on a Spanish pie but made out of corn flour due to the shortage of wheat.

But the theory I like the most – with solid bibliography to back it up – says that the hallaca can be traced back hundreds of years, to pre-Hispanic times, when Indigenous peoples prepared a corn dough wrapped in its own leaves and cooked in clay pots.

Now, the stew that fills the hallaca does have a lot to do with the Spaniards, and it was later adapted and perfected. So a deconstructed hallaca has pre-colonial elements: corn and onoto (achiote). As for the elements that came from the Iberian peninsula, some of them are clearly Spanish: onion, garlic, beef, pork, sugar cane and wine. But the rest, like olives, capers, raisins and almonds is actually inherited from the Moorish presence in Iberia for hundreds of years.

All things considered, the hallaca is synonymous with Venezuela’s mestizaje (mixing). It involved a brutal colonization, which shapes us to this day, but the traditions were adopted and molded by the people, with variants in different regions. The final result has a glorious balance between savory, sweet, acid and bitter. 

Not just that, hallacas have a perfect sidekick in ham bread (pan de jamón). The recipe was created in 1905 in a central Caracas bakery called Ramella. Its sole goal was to make use of leftover ham. How Venezuelan is that? We’re a country that always finds a workaround, making use of all scraps, reinventing itself as many times as it takes.

As Venezuelan culinary editor Miró Popic points out, “ham bread was born before the discovery of oil, in a poor, austere country, where one day of Christmas tried to make up for 364 days of hardship.”

And history can be cyclical. Still, during the worst economic crisis of the Fourth Republic (1958-1999) and the tough years of economic siege we’ve lived through, with 2016 and 2017 having been especially terrible, Venezuela held firm to its legitimate right to celebrate the holiday season.

Rightly so, because our traditions are unique and full of life. The most traditional music genre is the gaita, a popular rhythm from western Zulia state which bears African, Spanish and possibly Berber influences. In fact, the very name gaita originally referred to algaita, an Arab flute. This genre is furthermore traced back to slaves’ protest chants against their masters.

Plantation owners granted their slaves a single day a year to hold their festivities. That meant a grand party, during which the enslaved peoples also voiced their discontent with all the oppression around them, not just from slave masters but also the Church. “Why has God abandoned us?” they asked.

As a result, as time went on, gaitas became an instrument for popular classes to express their hopes and frustrations. There are plenty of songs denouncing inequality in cities like Maracaibo, where the oil riches and the poverty of the majority have always stood in stark contrast. This political facet of gaitas has remained heavily present to this day.

When I was a little girl, before Hugo Chávez arrived in power, there was a gaita that radio stations played all the time. “Doctor Caldera” by the Gran Coquivacoa group was a theme criticizing the government led by Social Christian Rafael Caldera, who held the presidency twice (1969-1974 and 1994-1999).

Listen Doctor Caldera to what we have to say. We can’t live like this, with this grief, hunger and so many problems. Don’t ruin Venezuela, the country is screaming at you.

Apart from the political songs, I have two favorite gaitas that are quite bittersweet. One is “El barrio de mis andanzas” by Ricardo Cepeda:

The barrio I wandered through, where I enjoyed life, where my childhood and youth took place. With nervousness and drunk with yearning, I return with the hope of living my old age.

The other one is “Quien como yo” by Argenis Carruyo:

Maybe because gray is now taking over my hair and life is too short for how much I love you. Who shall fill you with kisses when I’m gone? Who will make you feel loved?

Apart from gaitas, there are other rhythms synonymous with the holidays, with a stronger presence of religious themes. Aguinaldos and parrandas are two examples which in turn have different variants depending on the region.

Then there are the crazy traditions, with origins that are harder to trace and a lot more dependent on people’s levels of superstition. One case is eating lentils on Christmas Eve to invoke prosperity. Never mind how often we already eat lentils throughout the year… Other examples include yellow underwear to attract riches, taking a suitcase out so that next year is full of traveling, or breaking out new clothes so that new experiences abound. No one actually believes in these things, but many will do them just in case!

Nevertheless, my favorite one are the skateaways (“patinatas”), which are public celebrations carried out on the streets. Major avenues and roads are closed so that young and not-so-young kids can take over with their skateboards, bicycles and skates. It is often an occasion for kids to break out their Christmas gifts. As I watch them, I’m usually reminded of the essence of Christmas: working and fighting for children to be happy. And if we recall where Christmas is from, we wish and struggle so that children in Gaza can smile too.

Jessica Dos Santos is a Venezuelan university professor, journalist and writer whose work has appeared in outlets such as RT, Épale CCS magazine and Investig’Action. She is the author of the book “Caracas en Alpargatas” (2018). She’s won the Aníbal Nazoa Journalism Prize in 2014 and received honorable mentions in the Simón Bolívar National Journalism prize in 2016 and 2018.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelanalysis editorial staff.

Translated by Venezuelanalysis.