Dear Readers,

Lucy Haynes' 'Have Yourselves A Merry Little Christmas' piece has become the central theme of this Christmas issue of Femnet; a gentle reminder to each of us to enjoy the here and now of this beautiful season of loving, living, sharing, caring, giving.

As this issue goes to press, another wonderful Christmas song plays in the background nudging, “Where's the line to see Jesus? Santa brought me presents, but He gave His l i fe for me.” Yet another reminder that aside from the glitter a n d g l o w, d e c o r a t i o n s a n d shopping...the various traditions and mores of people and places, Christmas is about LOVE, PEACE, JOY, HOPE the kind the lowly child Jesus brought to the world.

We thank our various writers for their valuable contributions. Read on and be delighted with memories and flavours across the globe.

Cheers! to a great season ahead. Make them memories in the here and now. Savour the simple pleasures of fresh holly, the romance of mistletoe or a snowflake on your nose. Feel warmed by your family and friends and break free! Be!

Warm wishes from the FEMNET team for Christmas and a Fabulous New Year 2019!

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ISSUE 70 I PAGE 1NOV-DEC 2018

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Lucy Haynes, London UK

This festive period, whether you want to reminisce about the past ( “ W h a t e v e r h a p p e n e d t o Christmas?”), look towards the future (“This Christmas will be / A very special Christmas for me”) or both (“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas / Just like the ones I used to know”). There is a Christmas song for you.

And even if at Christmas you’re all about the present (pardon the pun) then most festive songs about the here and now don’t really cut it, either: as they’re still, really, about a Christmas we’re either hoping for or reminiscing about. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard Shakin Stevens sing about “Snow is falling / All around me” when, in fact, absolutely no snow was falling around me nor anybody nearby.

But there is one Christmas song which talks about both the past and the future – and does so with a wonderful mixture of hope and melancholy – yet which is really about the present. And that is Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

Written for the musical Meet Me in St Louis, the song was made famous in that movie by Judy Garland. In the film, she sings it to comfort her little sister Tootie, who is as upset as the rest of the family at the prospect of moving from St Louis to New York. But what does Tootie do? She breaks down in floods of tears and runs off and starts beheading the snowmen in the garden.

So back to Have Yourself a Merry Li t t le Christmas . I t ’s not a sentimental Christmas song. But it is a mixture of hope and truth, sadness and happiness. Just like Life.

Imploring us to “have a merry little Christmas”, it tells us to let our hearts be light, adding optimistically that “from now on all our troubles will be out of sight”. For then – as in past, “happy golden days” – our friends will be with us once again. “Someday soon, we all will be together”, it tells us, comfortingly, before cautiously adding “if the fates allow”. It’s no wonder that the song, introduced in 1944, struck such a chord with so many people who were, at that point in time, immersed in the tragedies and uncertainties of the second world war.

Life is uncertain, says Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – so it’s no wonder we feel uncertain, too. The penultimate line is the poignant “Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow”. So moving because it is so truthful. We’re all muddling through somehow – at any time of year, and especially, for many of us, at Christmas. We’re doing our best, but we’re probably also feeling imperfect, uncertain, sad or afraid. And when we’re feeling this way, one of the best things we can do – both for ourselves and others – is, as the song suggests, to concentrate on the present moment. Or to use a modern turn of phrase: to be mindful.

Last Christmas might have been awful and the next one might be wonderful. But we don’t know what the future will, indeed, allow. So let’s make the most of what we have today. Let’s be mindful, and do what the song’s final, most important, words remind us to do: to Have Ourselves a Merry Little Christmas Now.

Have Yourself a

Merry Little Christmas...

ChristmasStollen

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A Pao for allSeasons

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Thanksgivingin America

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My HeavenlyNeighbours

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MyMemories ofChristmas

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An Inspiring

Life!

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An EritreanChristmas inLondon

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An Eritrean Christmas in London!

The adults get to drink sowa, which is a drink made from barley. When our meal is finished we drink a type of Eritrean coffee and we have this with himbasha bread, which is thicker than injera.

Like everyone, we always feel really full after our Christmas meal and enjoy telling each other jokes from our Christmas crackers!

we have Christmas Day dinner. We eat turkey and potatoes and vegetables, with gravy, but we also have traditional Eritrean food. My mum makes berbere, which is a mixture of spices and unusual herbs. We eat this with chicken tsebhi, which is a bit like a curry and served on injera, which is a very thin round type of bread, a bit like an Indian roti. We also eat alicha: a dish made with potatoes, green beans, carrots, green peppers and turmeric, and shiro: a stew made with ground chickpea flour and onions and tomatoes.

Giada Mazzola Year 7, St Joseph's Catholic Primary School, London, UK

My name is Giada and my family is from Eritrea but I was born in England. I normally celebrate Christmas with my family and friends in London. Our Christmas celebrations are similar to most Londoners. On Christmas Eve we go to Church to join in the Midnight Mass. When we get back home we open all our presents straight away, even though it is really late and dark outside.

On Christmas day I wear my traditional Eritrean clothes called zuria, which is like a long dress with hand-embroidered patterns on it. Usually some of my family and friends come over to my house and

An Inspiring Life!

“Bittersweet memoriesThat is all I'm taking with meSo, goodbyePlease, don't cryWe both know I'm not what you need”

Nestor's heart rending parting words to her were:

“I love you and I will miss you.”

A fitting sentiment for a life well lived and filled with love for her family, friends and community. Rest In Peace dear Patsy.

“I hope life treats you kindAnd I hope you have all you've dreamed ofAnd I wish to you joy and happinessBut above all this, I wish you love”

Patsy struggled with a debilitating neurodegenerative condition called Supra nuclear palsy which affected her mobility, speech and her ability to swallow food. Never complaining about her condition in the final four years of her life, her sentiments are reflected in this beautiful song ...

“If I should stay, I would only be in your waySo I'll go, but I knowI'll think of you every step of the wayAnd I will always love you”

Nestor and Patsy met at a bus stop in Bandra, Mumbai, India and married in 1956. While my father Nestor remains devastated by the end of his 62 years of marriage to Patsy, she had...

Pauline Mendes, Melbourne Australia

The song 'I Will Always Love you' written by Songwriter - Dolly Parton & soulfully sung by Whitney H o u s t o n , w a s a f i t t i n g accompaniment to a photo presentation at my mother Patricia (Patsy) Mendes' funeral.

Her husband Nestor, three children a n d e i g h t g r a n d c h i l d r e n acknowledged her love for us, her patience, creativity, artistry, sharp one liners and exceptional culinary talents.

However, unlike Whitney Houston's premature passing, her life was far from tragic. She was a positive and inspiring role model: from being a risk taker in her decision to emigrate to Australia in 1971, to being a loving wife and mother and a staunch supporter of her husband Nestor's academic achievements. She was also an avid gardener, a lover of Indian art, a seamstress and a conscientious teacher to pr imary school ch i ld ren in Melbourne, Australia.

My Heavenly Neighbours

Mervyn Maciel UK

Most of you (if not all) will have heard of “neighbours from hell” but in this short article I'd like to tell you about an exceptionally kind family who I can only describe as “Neighbours from Heaven”.

My family and I were going through a particularly stressful time ever since we had to make the painful decision of placing my beloved Elsie in a nursing care home in Carshalton, Surrey. She had previously been in a similar home in Sutton but as this establishment

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My Memories of Christmas

My mother-in-law had four boys, so she would hide the sweets under the bed in serrated cases when cooked. When I married, I told my husband “I think your Mum is cuckoo”. I asked why she did that with grown men around. He blamed the young help who was part of the family. Later on, when it was Christmas time in my house, I hid the Amul tins filled with all the sweets that I had made in the Godrej cupboard. My husband opened the cupboard on Christmas Eve and all the tins came rolling out. “Now who is cuckoo” he exclaimed. “All your jewellery is out and the sweets are in a Godrej cupboard”.

Married life also brought changes. All my three children are foodies, wanting the best every day. The cook was marked out of 10 every day. She would be in a flood of tears if she got lower than 5.

Today, I feel we've lost the true spirit of Christmas. It's just another day for everyone—of shopping and consuming. The shops lure you in with all things bright and beautiful. But where do we stand on the real message of Christmas? Let's put Christ into Christmas and let the peace, joy and love go to all whom we love and to those whom we have to learn to love.

A Happy Christmas to everyone.

heavenly smell, together with the marzipans, coconut kisses and nanka ta i ' s b rough t a l l the neighbours together. You could walk down the street and tell who was baking or making and what! Kulkuls and pentiflets, cheese straws and guava cheese – all made at home.

We, young girls were glued to Lana Lobell, the best fashion magazine at the time. I had to have the latest dress patterns with warm coats and hats to match. It was really cold over Christmas then. Now in Mumbai, you don't even get to wear a cardigan; it's so hot!! These are the effects of climate change over 60 years ago.

Christmas was hectic. First, the sweet making then exchanging plates of delicacies with the neighbours in the morning after attending midnight Mass in church, for which we had to go at 10pm in order to get a seat. All the family made it a point to be present for Christmas lunch, which stretched to 4pm. Then rushing off to get ready for the dance. Those were the days of plenty of friends, boys and girls, all of whom my parents scrutinized closely!! And Dance meant dancing till my feet nearly fell off. The whole week there were social activities in the local Gymkhana until the New Year.

Gemma Menezes ( L o n d o n a n d Mumbai)

Oh! For the glorious d a y s o f t h e Christmases of my youth. It's been many years since, but the memories are still clear. Being

the last of seven children, with nearly twenty years between us, I grew up practically alone, as one of my siblings went out to sea, another became a priest, one sought better pastures abroad, one married, a sister became a nun and the one o lder to me was menta l ly challenged. And last but not the least, was yours truly.

From a fat child to a skinny teenager who would only eat sour or salted things, I was pampered a lot. We had a cook and a maid to cater to my gastronomic idiosyncrasies. When taken to the doctors, my mother threw a fit when the doctor told her that I was under nourished. How could that be!! Christmas brought a change.

My mother was an excellent cook and seamstress. At the time there were no electric ovens so the Christmas cakes she made were baked at a bakery and the 'paowalla' brought them back in special trays for the same. That

Much to my surprise and as though my prayers had been answered, my neighbours, Jo and Eric and their two lovely children, Jack (14) and Amelie (11) warmly welcomed me into their home, saying that I would be welcome to stay until all the building work was completed. I felt relieved but at the same time very sorry for the inconvenience I was putting the family to.

Young Jack had to vacate his tidy room for me while Jo had to make do by sleeping on a bunk bed with

was not up to the standards we expected, we had to move her to Carshalton, a neighbouring village.

Because of the astronomically and, to my mind, obscenely high costs, (£6000+ per month), the family decided that we should modify our present little home (Manyatta) and eventually bring Elsie home. Builders moved in early in September 2018 and I was homeless. I faced the daunting p r o s p e c t o f l o o k i n g f o r accommodation either in a hotel, B&B or similar establishment. continued on page 4

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far!

I feel bad that I'm not even allowed to contribute, in an insignificant way, by washing up after every meal etc. I am receiving, what I can only describe as I've said earlier, a 5-star hotel service and all this for nothing. Where in the world would I find such good neighbours? Time and time again I'm reminded “consider yourself family”, and indeed, I feel part of the family already.

I shall miss the warmth and love of this family when I finally leave and return to our Manyatta. And that's not all; when the family were due to spend the half-term break in mid-October (2018) with Eric's family in France, Jo suggested that I ask our daughter Josey to come from her home in Hove (Sussex) and keep me company. Jo did all the shopping and left enough food and drinks for us to last a few months if not years! Where on earth could I experience such kindness I ask?

Nothing I do or say can adequately express how grateful I feel for all that this family have done and are doing for me. I only hope I can one day repay their generosity in some small way.

God bless them all.

students who come in almost daily for their piano lessons. Jo is a very accomplished pianist and I enjoy many of the classical pieces she plays when practising. Who would h a v e t h o u g h t t h a t f r e e entertainment would also be provided not only by Jo, but also Jack who would do well to appear on “Britain's Got Talent” as he is so good at mimicking Indian, French, American and West Indian accents! He is a pro.

I cannot over emphasise the love and kindness that is being showered on me. I feel well and truly spoilt by all that is being done for me. In short, no 5-star hotel could rival the service I'm getting, including a full laundry service: clothes washed and pressed neatly every day and even brought up to my room – no tips accepted either!

I adore Jack and Amelie, two of the best-behaved and loving children I've come across. Jack has been very considerate in allowing me to occupy his room making little of the inconvenience he must be putting up with because of my stay. Just imagine how you would feel in a similar situation? Amelie has tried hard to attempt a hair transplant on my bald patch with no success so

Amelie – Jack with his Dad, Eric. I still feel bad about this and more so when the well-mannered Jack knocks at my door before he can enter and collect something from HIS room. I have to remind him that the room is his and I am the intruder!

From the outset, Jo, Eric and the children made me very welcome and took me in as one of the family. Time and again they remind me that they consider me family and want me to feel completely at home. I have taken advantage of this and have taken the liberty of making my early morning tea well before the others are up. Jo does all the cooking – delicious meals always and insists that I have a snack with my mid-morning coffee (chocolates or biscuits!). (I've told Jo I should have weighed myself before I moved in and later when I leave just to establish how much weight I'd put on!).

Eric is always around to make my nightly herbal drink. Young Amelie, a darling of a lass, makes sure I don't enter the kitchen to help with the washing up as she and Jack take it in turns.

I've also been provided with many lifts to visit Elsie. I feel bad about this especially since Jo is a glutton for punishment. She has quite a few

Jack, Amelie & Me with banana fritters we'd made

Thanksgiving in America

Bella Comelo, San Leandro, California

On November 22 Americans c e l e b r a t e d T h a n k s g i v i n g . Christmas and Thanksgiving are the most family centred holidays in America. This day has been

Thanksgiving Day to be celebrated on the final Thursday of November. Families and friends come together to give thanks and to enjoy a delicious meal. The turkey is the centerpiece of the celebration. And

celebrated from the time of the Pilgrims who, in 1621, got together to give thanks for their first harvest in the New World. In 1863 President Lincoln, prompted by a series of editorials written by Sarah Joseph Hale, proclaimed a national continued on page 5

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A Pão for All Seasons

diners who are closely associated with bread. Chef Floyd Cardoz has taken Goan pão overseas and serves it in his restaurant in New York. Fátima da Silva Gracias has researched and written about the journey of the Goan pão. Activist Prajal Sakhardande believes pão is synonymous with Goan identity. Host Pedro Novais has recently moved from Portugal to Goa where he is learns more about the food of the place of his origin. They all came together over a meal in Goa to be part of the film.

I hope I have whetted your appetite. The film is currently a work in progress. It is titled Pão. We are a group of like-minded filmmakers who have come together to make this film with our own resources. Filming is complete and we need support to complete post-product ion. We have started a crowdfunding campaign towards this end. Do have a look at https://www.facebook.com / b r e a d t h e f i l m f o r further details. Pão awaits your generosity during this festive season. Do share the love.

to go ahead and explore the many layers of this baked dough.

Making the film has been quite a personal journey for me. I began by meeting bakers from four corners of Goa. At bakeries every process is so time sensitive, a minute too early or too late and the bread is of unsatisfactory quality. It was a lesson in baking and patience to wait till the baker has a precious few minutes to talk with me. On the streets, it was same story. Every house in every lane waits for the baker each morning and evening. If bread is not delivered on time, it's not a happy customer at hand. Time management took a new meaning after meeting them all. Come heavy r a i n s o r s o a r i n g s u m m e r temperatures, Chr istmas or Ganesh Chaturthi, the baker is expected to bake and deliver bread. Despite their extremely busy schedules, I was fortunate enough to meet generous bakers who allowed my film unit and me to be part of their lives. The icing on the cake, or in this case, the butter over the freshly baked bread was warm and soul satisfying.

No film on bread is complete without a meal over bread. At the table are

Sonia Filinto, Mumbai

Come December and it is time to dust out recipe books and purchase ingredients towards preparing delicacies for the festive season. Traditional Goan treats or modern confectionery, it's a happy time for the sweet tooth. I want to take a moment though and talk about a food item that is an indispensible part of the Goan plate every month of the year.

The humble pão, in all its uniquely Goan varieties, is a food for all seasons. The pao, poee, kankon, undo, katro are eaten with jam and butter, dunked plain into tea and used to mop up curries. A food that was introduced by the Portuguese in Goa has now become an integral part of Goa's cuisine, culture and ident i ty. As a documentary filmmaker, it's a subject that has fascinated me for a while. Bread has been a reflection of Goan society for centuries. First baked by the Portuguese, later prepared by the local baker and now made by migrant bakers. It is an interesting journey that has touched lives in many ways. It is an ideal tool to explore Goa's identity. I realized it is a story waiting to be told. I decided

the largest and most popular parade in the country. The next day is Black Friday. The annual frenzied shopping day. People trample on one another as they rush to grab bargains. A good way, I suppose, to shed those ex t ra ca lo r ies consumed over Thanksgiving. The malls are all decked out with glittering Christmas trees, lights, fake snow, stars and tinsel. It is the start of the Christmas shopping season.

We all have plenty to be thankful to God for. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, we should thank the Lord "For each new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love and friends and for everything Thy goodness sends." And I am glad America has set aside one day in the year to thank the Lord.

prizes donated by local businesses. Politicians come to serve and greet the seniors. Troops stationed abroad are not forgotten. They are served a traditional Thanksgiving meal and receive care packages from their families.

New immigrants add new flavors to the feast. A Chinese family I know make sweet and sour sauce to go with turkey. Indian Americans who do not relish mashed potato make potato bhaji instead. Some prefer chicken instead of turkey. Millions of people brave crowded airports and freeways and travel across the country to be with their families and friends over the holiday.

Another tradition is to watch Macy's annual Thanksgiving Parade which takes place in New York City. This year was the 92nd parade and it is

we tuck into ham and yams, stuffing, greens, potatoes, cornbread and hot rolls. Pumpkin pie is the other tradition of a Thanksgiving meal together with apple and blueberry pies. A 10 pound turkey usually takes 4/5 hours to cook. Instead of having one family cook the whole meal, family members usually pitch in and help.

The other aspect of this holiday is to share and ensure that everybody is fed no matter their circumstances. Most churches serve free lunches. Food is sent to homeless shelters and to Assisted Living Facilities that take care of the elderly poor. People volunteer to serve meals to the less fortunate. In the Senior Center of our city, with which I am involved, 500 seniors are served a delicious lunch with turkey and all the trimmings. There is music and

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1-2 hours or until the dough has doubled in size.

2. Meanwhile, soak the dried fruit and peel, the cherries and cranberries in the rum.

3. When the dough has doubled, drain off the soaked fruit and add it to the dough, along with the chopped almonds and orange zest. Knead this into the dough, making sure everything is evenly distributed, and return to the bowl to prove for another half hour.

4. Now to shape your stollen. Shape the dough into a long rectangle on the lined tray that you will use to bake and flatten the middle of it with a rolling pin, so that there is a deeper channel running along the dough. Roll the marzipan into a long, even rope and place it in the channel. Fold one side of the dough over so that it meets the other side, and press down to seal in the marzipan. Leave to prove for a final 30 minutes, until puffed.Preheat the oven to 200°C. Bake the stollen for half an hour until the crust is firm and golden. Remove from the oven and brush with the melted butter while the stollen is still warm, then dust with the icing sugar and repeat before leaving to cool.

on the outside and soft and spiced on the inside and packed with fruits and nuts and marzipan.

Stollen

Makes: 1 large stollen (enough for 12 slices)Takes: 3 hoursBakes: 30-40 minutes

150g butter, soft but not melted500g strong white bread flour50g caster sugar7g instant yeast2 egg yolks150ml milk3 tablespoons of rum1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom1/2 teaspoon ground mixed spice125g mixed dried fruit and peel50g glace cherries25g cranberries1 orange, zested75g chopped almonds150g marzipan

For the glaze

30g butter, melted2 tablespoon icing sugar

1. Combine the flour, sugar, spices, yeast, milk, and eggs, and knead together by hand or in a machine for 10 minutes. Add the butter in three additions; m a k i n g s u r e e a c h i s incorporated before adding the next. Once all the butter is incorporated, place the dough in a large clean bowl, cover with Clingfilm, and leave to prove for

Marjorie O'Connell, Ireland

December is here and I find my thoughts turning to Christmas and baking. But not the Christmas baking that demands months of soaking and maturing and feeding with alcohol and then having to wait weeks before you can taste the results. I like instant gratification. And what could be better to bake than Christmas Stollen.

Stollen is a yeasted hybrid of bread and cake, filled with spices, candied citron, cherries, nuts and currants or sultanas, rum, eggs and lots of butter and with a rope of marzipan running through the centre. The rope of marzipan which runs through a stollen is supposed to symbolise the baby Jesus, and the yeasted dough around it the swaddling clothes in which he was wrapped and put in the manger. Melted butter is painted onto the freshly baked stollen and it is dusted with icing sugar until a thin layer builds up; this keeps the moisture in the bread for longer.

Stollen comes to us from Germany. In medieval Germany, Advent was a time of fasting in the Christian calendar, and the church decreed that you could bake with oil but not butter which was considered a luxury during the fasting period. So Stollen cakes were made with oil which was unsatisfactory. Also in Germany at the time, butter was cheaper than oil for baking. So many appeals were made to the church over the years to rescind the butter dictate until, eventually, Pope Innocent VIII, in a letter known as the 'Butter Letter', agreed that butter could be used for baking during the advent period on payment of a fee to the church.

Stollen is a huge slab-like loaf. My stollen is more bread than cake, and that's how I like it: it tastes better with a generous spread of butter. The dough shouldn't be too sweet. The sweetness will come from the marzipan, cherries and the icing sugar glaze. When baked, it should come out with a thick golden crust

Christmas Stollen

Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year 2019