La Navidad en New Mexico

New Mexico is truly enchanted during the winter months. Sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas something changes, and although one might claim that this happens anywhere you go, the Earth in New Mexico radiates a different color during the Christmas season.

The humble, selfless generosity exhibited by any woman old enough to be your mother makes any place your home. Handmade gifts and unexpected goodies let you know you're their hijo or hija and their responsibility. There is a safety and comfort in the communal and collective way that New Mexican women tend to the "youth" (anyone 20 years younger than them)... during Christmas. I do not want to make NM seem like a utopia, but truly, the Christmas transformation is unique.

The most obvious change begins with the lighting, best captured by the luminarias or farolitos that are said to symbolize a way of guiding Santa, or lighting the path for Jesus' entrance into the world. They glow warm, silent and earthen. Originally, they were only for Christmas Eve, but with the advent of technology they are now a common adornment on many houses. Their simplicity and beauty act like hot chocolate for the winter's moribund landscape; or at least so it feels. If nothing else, they remind us that the Earth is our source. They literally look like someone placed a bulb underground, allowing us to see its inner-workings, much like children do when they illuminate their fingers and noses with flashlights.

Food cannot be ignored as the true catalyst for the season. It manifests itself first in the colors, then on the taste buds. Knock on any door and you will find pots filled with surprisingly simple, yet tasty posole soup and perfect cold-weather chile stews. In many other places Christmas is almost neon. The colors of cookies, lights, and dress are commercial, plastic. Not to say this doesn't happen here as well, but there is an organic nature to many of the cultural traditions we carry. Tamales are the perfect example, being a hybrid of the indigenous and the New World. They are festive in themselves - made with chile, pork, and corn mash, and wrapped in corn husks like little gastronomical gifts. Unlike the candy cane red, or Rudolf's nose, tamales are matte and subtle in redness. Almost rust colored. Like a recently walked path in the fresh snow, we can look back and appreciate all the steps that helped to make this intricate delight.

Biscochitos, the State's official cookie, are possibly the best cookie for dipping in coffee or chocolate EVER! They're somewhat spongy once dunked, and the combination of cinnamon and sugar with the sharp, distinct anise flavor reminds you of that relative you only see at times like this. They are grainy and brittle, but buttery and soothing.

Food can be reflective, and a powerful tool for reconnecting to our past and strengthening the present. I intentionally spend time with my mother learning to prepare pastelitos, posole, carne adovada, empanaditas, chile rellenos, biscochitos, and tamales. She shares stories of her youth, but also of the food... and she gets a good nag in whenever possible. We also eat fudge and ham and decorate our house with regular Christmas bulbs, but Christmas in New Mexico would never be the same without its food, color, and people. All changes when touched by the New Mexico Christmas spirit.

Balloon Fiesta

Every October, Albuquerque hosts the International Balloon Fiesta. The festival started in 1972 with the launching of 13 balloons, but quickly escalated to being the world's largest hot-air ballooning event attended by people from all over the world. Over 1,000 pilots now fly in the festival in hundreds of balloons. Highlights include: the “special shapes” balloons, balloon competitions, fireworks displays, a "balloon glow," a car show, a wine festival, and tons of greasy food for all to enjoy. It's easy to see the attraction, in this time-lapse video, of the most photographed event in the world.

The Art of Ballooning
Since all surfaces on Earth absorb the Sun's heat differently, dangerous vertical winds (thermals) emerge as the day progresses. The air is most stable right after sunrise and before sunset. Essentially, the only control a pilot has in a balloon is changing altitude. Pilots usually won’t fly in the middle of the day when that control is lost and when the temperature differential between the outside and the inside of the balloon is too subtle for the balloon to fly in the first place. If you wake early enough on any crisp morning in Albuquerque you will most likely be greeted by a host of balloons. They can usually be observed going in a northerly direction, following the winds.

Balloons typically cost between $20,000 - $30,000 and every year some don't fare as well as others. They can catch turbulent or warmer conditions and end up clipping power lines, meeting the "depths" of the Rio Grande, or finding a resting place a lot further away than anticipated. Hence, any experienced balloonist has "chasers" who's sole job is to, well, chase the balloon (usually in a pickup truck). New Mexicans are well acquainted with random trucks driving erratically where no roads could ever possibly go. A word of advice, look up when you see this because there's a good chance your curiosity will be satisfied by the sight of a flying pitcher. Of course, it's also often the case that teenage boredom gets the better of young New Mexican drivers leading to frequent excursions into empty lots. You be the judge.

The enchantment of ballooning is, for most New Mexicans, far more central than you would expect. We are drawn to the seemingly uncontrollable nature of takeoff, flight, and landing; to the very soothing periodic noise of burners as balloons sail daily overhead; and to the hope that maybe one morning an enormous pig-shaped balloon will drop into our back yard loaded with all sorts of pinata-like goodies.