My neighbour has this tree with the most delicious peaches. This is what inspired this writing, seeing my neighbour’s peach tree, and it’s blooming with pink flowers. I remember when I was young how that tree produced the most delicious peaches ever. What was strange was this tree produced peaches earlier than other trees and damn the peaches were tasty. The only issue was the old couple there was greedy as hell with them peaches. There were times when we would watch the whole peach tree literally crumble with peaches in it. When she wasn’t around, we’d sneak in and steal some.
When we got older though, either old age was kicking in or she “matured” but she would be the one asking if we wanted to get some peaches, which we would gladly come and pick, but for some stupid reason, didn’t taste as good as when we stole them. Hahaha anyways, I want to share a different type of Christmas tale.
It’s December 25, Christmas Day. The time is 12 PM, which apparently is the official time to start Christmas celebrations. I never asked why not 12 AM? It’s too late now. Let me transport you to my neighbourhood in the early 2000s, if not the 90s, on Christmas Day.
After countless cries, I am finally dressed in newly bought Christmas clothes: a red tee, brownish pants, a fresh haircut, and new shoes. As I step outside, I see everyone is in new clothes too—a tradition for kids. My cousin VJ is bragging about his new branded clothing. He loves brands and still does. I, on the other hand, am just appreciative to have new clothes after working all December to get them.
Kids gather in groups, heading in different directions. Why? To eat delicious food at the neighbors’ houses. On Christmas Day, it’s a tradition for neighbours to cook lavish meals with all types of greens, meats, and lots of desserts. The unwritten rule was not to eat too much at home so you could enjoy the neighbours’ feasts.
My gang and I would head straight to the end of the street. One neighbor had very nice cakes, and another sometimes let us sneak a sip of alcohol—an exciting experience. At my grandparents’ place, we’d even get some money. I’d bump into my crushes, who greeted me kindly and told me I was handsome. Christmas was the best day ever.
As I grew older, this tradition started to vanish. The new clothes disappeared. Maybe I lost interest, or that was just an excuse. Suddenly, there were places I was told not to go because a neighbor might poison our food. What had changed?
Years passed, and the tradition faded. We only had a few places left to eat at, even at my own home. People came for the deliciously baked goods I made, but it wasn’t the same. The neighborhood vibe diminished. I hardly see kids “trick-or-treating” for food on Christmas anymore.
Neighbors feared each other, with some reason. But who proved it true? Financial constraints might be a major influence. It’s not easy to cater for strangers. Plus, people judge now. They’ll eat at your house and gossip about it later. I know because I’ve overheard adults’ conversations.
I stopped eating at neighbors’ houses. My mom was cautious, and I started feeling fearful. I stayed home in December, watching people walk around drunk and happy. I wondered if I was envious, but Christmas movies kept me company. Home Alone hit the spot because I could relate—I was left alone at home.
One Christmas, I was alone, and my crush came over. She had a crush on me too, but I was too shy. She stayed with me for over an hour, flirting, but I was clueless. After she saw I wasn’t making any moves, she left. I don’t even remember what we talked about. It was weird for her.
Back to 2024, the tradition of eating at the neighbour’s house seems gone. People stay home, worried about their problems. Invitations are selective. Sometimes, we can’t even go to a relative’s house because of family feuds. My friend Mlondi might say it’s a woman thing, I mean after years of knowing someone, how could you suddenly say they are trying to kill you? but I won’t go there. All I’ll say is, eating at the neighbour’s house on Christmas was the best thing ever.