Santa and Winter Papik

Santa and Winter Papik

I believe it was in September when I moved from the host family home to my apartment in Noyemberyan. Then, I decided to quit shaving and grow my beard. After about a week, my white beard barely taking shape, Narine and Anushik decided I should let it grow long and become Zmir Papik, which means Winter Grandfather, an Armenian equivalence to Santa Claus.  At the time neither knew my familial ties to the Santa Claus legend in America.  I have dressed up as Santa a few times in America, but it was always with a fake beard and white wig. I decided that it would be fun besides the fact that I hate shaving or going to a new barber. The costume was begun, although I did begin wondering where I would find my size of a Santa outfit in Armenia and was there a significant difference between the two costumes.

As the months went along, my hair and beard grew longer. Narine and Anushik both liked what I was doing.  However, the other ladies kept asking when I was going to get a haircut and shave. With Narine’s help, I was able to convince them I was getting shaggy for the children of Noyemberyan so the complaining lessened. Especially in the smaller rural communities, the men are closely shorn so I was rapidly becoming an additional anomaly.  Now I was not only the strange American in the Cowboy hat but now I had shaggy hair and beard, a conversation piece in my little town.

In this period of time, I began my clubs with school children and some adults.  In my class about American life and culture with the adults, I told the story of my ancestor John Pintard and how he is credited with the bringing of the Santa Claus legend to New York.  The first time a man dressed up as Santa Claus was at John Pintard’s Christmas party in the early 1800’s. The costumed man scared the two-year-old grandchild, a phenomenon that continues to this day. I will explain that comment later in this story. When my Armenian friends heard the story, it added credibility to my shagginess, but I knew that the older ladies I worked with still wanted my haircut.

As the holiday season grew closer, my dear work friend, Ruzan, told me that she was not letting her kids see me because she wanted to surprise them with me and my long beard as Winter Papik.  I thought that was very funny but had wondered why I had not seen the three children in a while.  I have a cup filled with colored pencils on my desk that has her son, Narek’s, name on it as well as an original work of art from the twin Karina, whom I call Coffee girl. My first day here in Noyemberyan, Ruzan got a call from the daycare because Karina had gotten into the coffee and was covered in it.  A picture followed of this beautiful little girl covered in coffee and we all laughed.  I had even gone to the park with Ruzan’s children once. I was glad the lack of contact was explained.

In the middle of November, my team and I went to Dilijan for an outing to celebrate four birthdays.  Accompanying Hasmik was a little girl name Arina who was scared to death of me because I spoke English. Hasmik told her I was Santa Claus. At lunch, Arina kept peering around Hasmik at me.  I finally asked her in Armenian what she wanted for Christmas.  She said a new pink dress.  The rest of the day Arina would not get within ten feet of me. She almost accidentally held my hand as we toured an ancient church.  She saw the hand belonged to me and scurried to the other side of her mother and Hasmik as fast as she could.   When we got back to Noyemberyan, I told Narine that she would have to help me find a pink dress.  I was not going to let a little girl think she had made direct contact with Winter Papik and not received what she

wanted.  

Narine helped me find a pink dress a few days later.  When we returned to work with our discovery, Hasmik got very excited and began showing it to all the ladies at work.  Each of the ladies at work told me I could but her a pink dress for Christmas. I came up with a plan and Narine helped by checking my spelling.  I wrote a little gift tag for every lady in Armenian saying “I wanted to buy you a pink dress, but I did not know your size”.

As Christmas got closer, I understood better that Armenians have Santa visit on New Year’s Eve rather than Christmas Eve.  I was invited to an American style gathering on Christmas Day so I excused myself to go to Yerevan explaining I would be back in plenty of time for the celebrations here in Noyemberyan.  Narine told me she wanted to get me a Winter Papik costume at the market in Yerevan. I said I could go get one on my own, but she insisted and as I have explained before, I know not to argue with her.  She invited me to meet her but it was right at the time I was supposed to meet some Americans for lunch.  She told me not to worry but that she wanted to measure me for the costume.  At work the day before I was to go to Yerevan, Narine got a tape measure and string from Hasmik.  Now dear reader, realize that one of my arms is almost bigger than the entire Narine.  It was so funny watching her walk around me

measuring my chest, my waist, my arms, and cutting the string to take with her to the costume maker in Yerevan.  I was reminded of an old joke in the Deep South about fat girls.  We called them “Hug and Chalk” girls.  They were so big you hugged halfway, use carpenter chalk and marked where you got, and ran around to hug the other half. With little Narine, I had become a hug and chalk guy.  Narine giggled after taking my measurements and said she now knew everything about me.

That afternoon, I took some pictures of my team around the Christmas tree and they surprised me with a beautiful Christmas gift of a flask that said Armenia.  Hasmik told me that I was required to only fill it with Armenian cognac.  I don’t need it here because there is alcohol at every event I attend.  In future travels, it will be filled as instructed and I will always have this team in my mind as I sip Armenian cognac somewhere in the world.

My Armenian guardian angel, Narine, will be angry with me for telling this part of the story but it so influenced how I felt about my Christmas that I need to share it.  The next morning, I got in my taxi for Yerevan and was pleasantly surprised to see my Narine in the backseat with her ever present smile, even at six in the morning.  She helped translate a small conversation between me and the driver and then tried to sleep.  She does not travel well on the winding mountain roads we have to take. I hoped she was asleep, but she called out to the driver and he pulled over because she was carsick. The protective gene I have for this young woman wanted to take care of her, but I knew it would have embarrassed her and been questioned by the other folks in our taxi. She returned to the car and we were on our way.  Unfortunately, she never felt better. I had asked my brother to send some peppermints and peppermint teas to help her with this issue, but my homeopathic medicines had not yet arrived from America.  We made an extra stop at a place for coffee and a cigarette break for the driver.  Narine bought some water hoping it would help settle her stomach.  We had not yet made it to the place where we stop to refuel and had to pull over again for her to be sick.  It is so difficult to care so much for someone, but this culture disallows its demonstration.  We made it to the gas stop.  I told her while we waited for the driver that I had wanted to exit the taxi and hold her hair from her face when she was sick. Then, I told Narine to please explain to the driver to take her to her destination before taking me to my hotel.  She

reluctantly agreed because she knew she needed rest and, for once, did not argue with me. We finally made it to Yerevan and Narine’s destination.  When she left the taxi, I wanted to ask her to call me later to let me know how she was doing but I did not want to intrude on her visit with her friends. She was on my mind the whole weekend wanting to know how she was doing.

I met up with the Americans and had a nice chat about American traditions at Christmas.   My friend Meredyth, who is a classically trained pianist and former college music professor, accompanied me to an outstanding jazz concert of Christmas music in the performance area at the Cafesjian Museum.  The musicians were excellent and the young woman who sang had a beautiful voice.  The song selection included so many traditional songs that it felt like an American Christmas celebration.  

After the show, we walked along the Kentron shopping area looking at all the little Christmas booths with crafts and treats for Christmas gifts, I noticed people looking at me, even more than usual.  About that time, I saw a young man in a Winter Papik costume with a fake beard and he gave me a thumbs up sign.  I realized that I was being seen as Santa because of my long beard even without a costume. Being the ham that I am, I immediately went to the lower level of the mall where I had earlier seen Santa hats for sale. I tried on several and asked Meredyth which hat I should buy.  We walked along the mall back to the hotel with no costume other than my new Santa hat.  I was getting smiles and asked to pose for pictures.  I felt so bad for Meredyth who is a quiet person.  Walking beside me, she was getting much more attention than she generally likes.  I was having too much fun getting the smiles from children.

Christmas Day, I had an email from Narine.  She told me that Hasmik was making me a Winter Papik coat. Narine also sent me some sentences to learn in Armenian that I would need when I visited our friends’ homes as Winter Papik. I began memorizing and practicing.   
This is what I needed to learn:
1. Hello Dear Children - Բարև ձեզ սիրելի երեխաներ Barev zez sirali yerakaner
2. Happy New Year and Merry Christmas Շնորհավոր Ամանոր և Սուրբ ծնունդ Shnoravor Amanor yev Soorb Snoond
3. How are you? Ի՞նչպես եք Inch pes ek
4. Tell me who has visited you. Դե ասե՛ք՝ ով է ձեզ հյուր եկել De asek ov e zez hyoor yekel.
5. Do you know where I have come from Իսկ ո՞րտեղից եմ ես եկել։ Isk vortehits em es yekel
6. Now recite for me to get gifts. Դե արտասանե՛ք ինձ համար, որ ստանաք ձեր նվերները de artasanek indz hamar vor stanak zer nvernera

Christmas night, I had dinner at the hotel which overlooked the giant Christmas tree in Republic Square, looking out the windows at the lights and decorations and the various Winter Papiks walking around in their long robes, often accompanied by Snow Queens. I knew many were making money charging for pictures.  I decided to go down in my regular clothes and jacket except for the Santa hat. I walked out of the hotel with smiling glances from the desk clerks and doormen.  As soon I was outside, people began looking at me with smiles.  I heard parents telling their children to look at Papik or Santa.  Sometimes, the children saw me before the parents.  The wide-eyed smiles

were the best Christmas present I could have received.  I went across to the area by the giant Christmas tree and various lights in Republic square. Some of the costumed Snow Queens and Winter Papiks smiled at me but some did not seem to appreciate my being there. I just strolled through and did not want to be seen as a threat to their making money from picture taking. I was only there for the fun.  

I left the Square and headed for the shopping district with all of the little booths and lights. The performance was the same with many smiles from young shoppers and children.  I had a wonderful time just walking through the area.  I stopped and purchased Christmas tree ornaments from a young craftsman who had many beautiful items that he had made, and he spoke excellent English. Worrying about what perceptions I might make with presents, I purchased every lady at work a similar Christmas ornament.  I saw another booth that had beautiful large candy canes.  I was selecting one for everyone when I suddenly saw a peppermint candy cane behind the lady on a back shelf.  I asked her for that one in particular.  I wanted Narine to have a peppermint from me for Christmas.  In America, only at Christmas time, Peppermint ice cream is sold in the grocery stores. Peppermint is special to me at Christmastime. I took my bounty back to my room and sat in the Concierge lounge sipping wine watching out the window as people walked in the Square enjoying the lights and Christmas decorations.

The next morning, I had my usual breakfast at the hotel. Gohar, the incredibly gracious waitress in the breakfast room at my hotel was excited about my being Winter Papik.  I showed her what I was memorizing which she pronounced beautifully (I mean she is Armenian) in less time than I could struggle with one sentence.  The next three mornings, she checked my pronunciation and helped me memorize my little inquisition for the children.  
The next day, I decided to wander around the city having

coffee and lunch and doing a little shopping wearing my Santa hat.  It was so fun (I am being a little egocentric, I guess).  There was a children’s concert being held at the Opera House and the area around it were teeming with children. I had almost forgotten I was wearing the Santa hat when I noticed all these little eyes widening and fingers pointing at me. I would give little finger waves and the children would duck behind their mother, sneaking little glances at me from the safety of their mother’s legs. I made my way to the place I like for coffee near the Cafesjian with little eyes following me, hearing the occasional Mom saying, do you see Papik in Armenian of course.

The waitress at the coffee shop liked my Santa hat and saw the notecard of Santa sentences.  She asked me to read it to her and I obliged her.  She helped me a little with pronunciation.  Funny, how I have given much longer speeches in my life, but I was so worried about sounding authentic with these four little statements.  I can easily fool adults with a speech, but kids know what Santa is supposed to say and by God, I did not want to be caught as a faker by two and four-year olds. I am sure I was driving every Armenian within earshot crazy with my attempts at being Winter Papik.

The last three nights I was in Yerevan, I walked out to the light displays wearing my Santa hat and regular clothes.  I wore my glasses instead of my contact lenses to give me a little more “Santa” look.  It was a continuing festival of smiles from shoppers and children.  Once, some young women running a photo booth asked me to pose for pictures with them.  I thought they were trying to sell me pictures, but one spoke English and told me that they just wanted to take pictures with the American Santa.  I will admit it was very nice standing between two beautiful Armenian young women with their arms around me smiling for the camera. There was one down moment in all my playfulness.  One of the young men dressed as Winter Papik stuck his cane between my legs and almost tripped me to the ground.  I guess he thought the American was trying to mess with his income. I just righted myself and kept walking.

When I returned home to Noyemberyan, Narine invited to come to her house to plan for the coming Winter Papik visits.  I arrived with my little notecard of what to say.  We practiced my lines a few times and it was explained to me that the last line about them receiving gifts required the children to recite a poem to me. She assured me she would be right there to help me know when they had completed their lines correctly so they could receive their presents.  I was so worried about disappointing the children, but she kept telling me I would be a great Winter Papik and not to worry.  Narine had the Winter Papik coat that Hasmik had made for me to wear. It was a full-length red robe with white fur on the cuffs and around the collar. I tried it on with the hat Hasmik had made and my new Santa hat. Narine and her brother, Vahan, decided that my Santa looked better for me.  She went and put on her Snow Queen dress which she said she had not worn in a while.  The little white sleeveless dress looked very pretty on her.  She put on the other red hat.  Vahan approved. Our outfits for the big night were ready. The only

drawback to a beautiful sight was this pretty Snow Queen having to stand next to a giant American version of a Winter Papik.

The plan was for me to spend a couple of nights at her family’s home because we would be out very late.  I was surprised by this suggestion but agreed to the arrangement.  Armenians are incredibly hospitable people, so I accepted. I felt guilty about being there when I realized later that I had taken Narine’s brother’s room and he was sleeping in her room with her. 
On the appointed night, Narine and I were to go to Ruzan’s house first.  Her brother was coming to pick us up with the gifts for the three children in the car.  After that, we were to go to Hasmik’s house to see Arina, the little girl for whom I had purchased the pink dress. Then we were to go to Lala’s house. All of this had been arranged and planned for me. I have come to discover in Armenia, I have virtually no input in the

planning of any activity that involves me.  Like a trained puppy, I just show up, do the trick I am asked to do.  I usually get a nice food treat at the end. I scratch myself behind the ears and just move on.

Now that I knew the plan or at least a skeletal version, I packed a bag on December 31 and headed up the hill to Narine’s house with my Santa hat. When I arrived, I put my things in the front room and Narine guided to the main room where, of course she had made coffee and her mother offered me some delicious cake similar to the first cake I had there upon arriving in Noyemberyan. This family, Narine tells me to say my family and I must say that I feel love for and from them, makes me feel as if I am a part of the family. She had presents that needed to be wrapped for the children. My wrapping being legendarily bad in America, I did my best to help her.  My job ended up being just putting on the ribbons. It was pretty safe.  I wish I had thought to buy all the children something, but I was not sure of cultural protocols.  I explained to Narine that the nights I wandered around Yerevan, I wanted to be handing out little candies to the children who smiled but was afraid it would be a cultural violation and I would end up needing bail money. So here I was empty handed except for the gifts I had for my first host family and some things I had bought for Narine’s (my) family.

Narine met me in the main room with my new Winter Papik robe. I had worn dark slacks and sweater to have on under the robe. I have to explain this part of the evening.  Here am I, a six-foot-tall behemoth in warm clothes now enveloped in a full length red robe outlined with faux white fur, standing next to the petit Narine in a short white sleeveless dress with a red hat and white gloves.  Her legs covered by white hose, but her arms were exposed and it was cold outside.  I feared I would be getting hot in my outfit while she froze to death.

Narine’s brother took some pictures and she noticed that I needed some make-up to give me rosier cheeks.  She asked if I would mind.  I laughed and said I had worn stage make-up many times and was not worried about losing my man-card in Armenia because I had on a little rouge.  Besides, I thought, most of the men in town thought I was odd any way because I am not married or chasing Armenian widows around town.  She applied red lipstick to my face and smeared it around.  I could not decide if I looked like the line in the old Santa poem about his cheeks were like cherries or if I looked like a serial killer but Narine and her mother thought it looked great.  More pictures were taken with us and members of the family. Vahan and Irene both smiled in the pictures.  It was a great moment when we actually got a picture of her tatik with us wearing a smile.  Arevik has the most beautiful smile but always looks serious in pictures.  We practiced my Santa lines a few more times, got our coats and went outside to go to Ruzan’s house.

We got in the car and Narine explained to me that we would take the packages Ruzan’s brother had for us in the car and wait outside for a few minutes. Then we would go to the door and be let in by Ruzan, so it did not look like the brother had brought us.  We arrived and took the presents from the car and stood outside.  I could tell Narine was freezing but being a good soldier said nothing.  We knocked on the door and Ruzan guided us in.

Narek, Ruzan’s son, greeted us first with big eyes.  He was followed by his twin sisters, Karina and Mariam.  Their eyes were locked on us.  I said the first of my lines which is only a greeting and Narek immediately began reciting the requisite poem to receive gifts.  Narine explained that I did not need to say anything more without the children hearing her speak English to me.  We sat on the couch with the children and they opened their presents.  I spoke to them a little in Armenian but was staying pretty quiet to preserve our deception.  We posed for pictures with Mariam, who is usually the most afraid of me, actually sitting in my lap.  I guess the Winter Papik outfit made her feel safer than the American she knew.  The children were so happy with their presents and showing them to me and Narine.

After all the pictures and laughter, Ruzan instructed us to come sit down at the table.  In America, Santa gets a couple of old chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. In Armenia, there is a full-on feast on the table.  I could not believe how much food was there and it all looked delicious.  I sat next to Narek and Ruzan. Ruzan’s brother poured us a cognac to toast the event.  In America Santa does not drink in front of children but I believe it is different here. I accepted the toast and sampled a little food.  I had a premonition, that proved to be true, that every visit would come to a similar conclusion.  

Narine and I excused ourselves because we had other children to visit.  The children hugged us both and we went out the door.  Ruzan was smiling so broadly that I was afraid she would hurt her mouth. She kept telling me I was the best Winter Papik ever. I would have looked very embarrassed but all the red lipstick on my face was hiding how red my skin was turning on its own.  Ruzan’s brother took us up to Hasmik’s house. Narine called to let them know we were on the way.

We arrived and were greeted outside by Roman and Meri. They had some additional gifts for us.  They returned inside and Narine and I made our way up the stairs and through the front door.  Arina was in the doorway between the main room and the entryway.  We removed our shoes and headed in.  Again, she was reciting her lines before I had a chance to request them.  Narine and I were on either side of her and she took both of us by a hand.  This was the little girl who would not get within ten feet of me when we first met and now, she was holding my hand smiling. We sat on the couch and she opened her presents.  Hasmik brought out the package which was the promised pink dress.  Hasmik had exchanged it for a better fit than the one I bought but it was still pink with a little tiara.  Arina immediately went to put on the dress.  She came back and sat at the table with me and Narine. We told her how she beautiful she looked. We had a few toasts with Hasmik and posed for pictures. The real magic happened this time when Narine and Arina took my hands and began singing and the three of us danced to the song.  I had no clue what was being sung but as Scrooge says in A Christmas Carol, my spirit was light as a feather.  I was feeling the joy of Christmas filling my whole being. Especially in that little innocent dance with the Snow Queen and the little angel who had been afraid of me holding my big paws in their little hands. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Goodbyes were said to Arina, her mother, and Hasmik.  Roman and Meri went outside with us, loading us in their car to take us to Lala’s house, our final visit of the evening.  I was still worrying about Narine in her little white dress and light jacket while I am walking around in this heavy robe over my warm clothes.  She called Lala to tell her we were on the way. It is now approaching 2:00 in the morning when no one would be awake in America, but children were waiting up for us here.

We arrived at Lala’s and Lala was waiting outside for us. She retrieved a couple of presents that we were to deliver and then went inside.  Narine and I went to the door and Lala’s son let us in.  The two-year-old niece took one look at me and ran for her mother’s lap.  As in the story of the first costumed Santa in America, a big bearded creature may be supposed to be the gentle Winter Papik but to a two-year-old, he is a giant hairy monster.   She accepted her presents from the Snow Queen but never got within five feet of me.  Lala’s son recited the poem for presents before I had the chance to ask. All my work memorizing those lines and I never said most of them.  The presents opened, we were again taken to a table full of food.  We ate a little and had a toast to Winter Papik and the Snow Queen.  We stayed a little while and I helped Lala’s son with one of the presents, a little keyboard with a microphone.  He was a bit of a ham singing “Dukov” and we had fun.

My night as Winter Papik came to an end except for hearing from everyone about what a great Winter Papik I was.  The funny thing is, as good as my memory is about the rest of the night, I am not sure how we got back to Narine’s house.  I think Lala took us, but I really don’t remember for sure.  I just know that my experience with the magic of Winter Papik and Santa hats gave me one of the greatest Christmases I have ever had. Thank you to all the children who smiled, to Hasmik for the Winter Papik robe and to the Snow Queen, Narine, whose idea it was and whose gentle giving spirit makes her the real Snow Queen.