Christmas Caravan
This year all of us learned what it means to be “displaced” – displaced from our normal patterns of life and work. It has been hard, but it has also helped us understand the feelings of displacement and disorientation experienced by the refugees we serve. In the midst of this, we have had to learn to be creative and to imagine new ways of doing things, which may have opened us up to new experiences of growth and transformation.
That has certainly been true in our family culture this Christmas season. We were determined to try to make new special memories, even embark on a new Christmas tradition centered around finding our very own special tree from Mt Hood National Forest.
Several weeks ago I researched what tools and prep I would need to make our event more successful and fun: hot drinks, saws, rope, maps, a permit, even tree types. Then we headed due east from southeast Portland towards that white snowy peak. An hour later, then two, we were stuck in a traffic vortex, a true Christmas caravan of other hopeful skiers and Christmas tree hunters, stuck on back roads because of an overturned oil tanker truck that had completely shut down Highway 26. As night approached, we recognized the need to abandon the plan and return home, unsuccessful and disappointed.
We had to wait another few weeks before a much pared-down scouting crew, consisting of just me and my son, could go for it again but with a new plan to look in lower elevations. I’m still not comfortable driving in snow even with those never-used chains in the trunk. I again did fresh research, printed out my digital permit with associated map and rules, then headed out to the literal and physical end of the road to find what we could find. Water, snack bars and emergency blanket safely packed in the van, we set off on Sunday after virtual church.
It didn’t take long, after following what seemed to be a trail but turned out to just be the entry to a remote campsite, until we were lost. It was no longer a tree we were after, but some semblance of recognition that would lead us back to the car. Bushwhacking through thorny undergrowth, shoes soaked from wet snowy ground, I was a little worried since all those good preparations (water, food, emergency blanket) were still in the van, the saws and pruning gear I expected to need very close to the van now helplessly stowed in my backpack. At least the pruning shears came in handy when I had to fashion walking sticks to help us ford the river to find the trail that my Gaia GPS app suggested was across the river.
But this was 2020. What else could I expect, after all?
The good news is that an hour later we had returned to the van, Hemlock in tow (okay so it’s not the best kind of Christmas tree but we took what we could with failing daylight and limited selection). That evening our group of eight decorated the Charlie Brown tree while Christmas music played from the computer.
It’s times like this that my ears get itchy for new seasonal recommendations for non-cheesy Christmas music. If you can relate, you’re in luck as I just found “Christmas Caravan” from Sultans of String, a Toronto-based international mix of talent firmly planted in the world music category. Sultans of String uses their musical platform to fundraise for refugees and has partnered with UNHCR Canada.
While now is the perfect time to listen to their Christmas album, you’ll want to also check out their “Refuge” album (see below).
Addressing the struggles of life on Mother Earth has always inspired Sultans of String. On this visionary seventh album, Refuge, they bring their unique brand of musical synergy and collaboration to bear on 13 songs that speak to the challenges facing the world’s displaced peoples–their stories, their songs, their persistence and their humanity.
Joined by an international cast, some of whom are recent immigrants to North America, the celebrated quintet immerses themselves in the plight of the international refugee, and the humanitarian response that should greet everyone in search of a home.
“This project is centred around the positive contributions of refugees and new immigrants to U.S.A. and Canada” says bandleader Chris McKhool (ancestral name Makhoul), whose Lebanese grandfather stowed away on a ship bound for North America a century ago.
“We’re collaborating with special guests on the album who are newcomers to this land, Indigenous artists, as well as global talents who have been ambassadors for peace. We wish to celebrate the successes of those who make the journey here and bring their extraordinary talents with them. We hope the conversations we can have as musicians will provide a model for peace that will inspire our politicians and citizens.”
Do you have other musical artists to recommend who speak to the stories behind forcibly displaced peoples? If so, comment below. And if you plan to go cut down your own Christmas tree in the remote wild, I wish you quicker success than me!