In my 24-year life, I have never had an opportunity or reason to celebrate Christmas.
I have also never had the opportunity to visit an Australian city that wasn't metropolitan.
In a year where a lot has gone wrong for the world, the stars aligned for me and I got the chance to spend Christmas in Rockhampton with the Morrissons.
I met Euan Morrisson through university and he was kind enough to extend an invitation.
Being from a Bangladeshi-Muslim culture, I was sure the experience would be something different and a great way to cap off the year.
I have lived in Dhaka, Bangladesh for most of my life.
When I moved to Brisbane for university four years ago, I felt like I was the only person that lived there — it felt so empty.
Whenever Euan spoke of Rockhampton, it conjured a very specific image in my head.
It was similar to the image of Mexico you see in Hollywood movies — a barren place with a yellowish tint over dry, arid land.
If Brisbane seemed empty to me, then you would forgive me for thinking there was nothing in Rockhampton at all, and nobody living there.
'A head full of preconceived ideas'
In my head, Rockhampton was a place akin to a scene out of Crocodile Dundee.
But these weren't the only preconceived ideas I had about my trip — I also had some notions of what the people were going to be like.
Having known Euan for about three years, I knew what he and his immediate family were going to be like, but anyone else, I didn't know.
My parents were immigrants in Sydney during the 90s, and not all of their experiences in their new country were pleasant.
Pauline Hanson was at the top of her game, making controversial statements about immigrants.
She is from Queensland, and the funny thing about preconceived notions is that they can work both ways.
In a way, I think her antics in general put some notions about Queensland and Queenslanders into my family's mind.
After all, they were trying to be New South Welshmen, so their dislike of cane toads and Queensland Maroons was not out of place.
I also had some expectations about Christmas itself.
I lived in Sydney until the age of three and experienced a few occasional brushes with Mr Claus, but nothing significant.
My parents and I moved back to Dhaka and I stayed there until I started at the University of Queensland about four years ago.
Growing up in Dhaka, December 25 was just another day — although it was a public holiday.
But watching Hollywood movies can give you a picture of Christmas.
You expect Christmas to be white — to have snow tinsel and mistletoe everywhere. You expect a fireplace and a chimney for Santa to deliver your presents.
Truth be told, I knew this trip was not going to be anything like that in reality, but it's very difficult to erase or undo notions that have been reinforced in your mind for so long.
So, with a head full of preconceived ideas, and a general discomfort — I boarded a plane to Rockhampton on December 23.
Waving a warm welcome
When I got off the tarmac and walked into the airport, my views already began to change. There were cars everywhere, the airport itself was bustling with people coming home for Christmas.
As we drove towards the Morrisson residence, we even encountered some traffic. It seemed a lot like Brisbane really, just with a lot more open space.
Once we got to the house, I was amazed to see the sizes of the properties they had here.
The Morrissons live on 5 acres of land, with more empty council land behind their house.
A trip to the Mt Archer lookout revealed Rockhampton's layout — a place much closer to a city than the barren wasteland I had imagined.
The people here are warm and lovely.
I hadn't met anyone outside of the family yet, but I noticed while driving, how everyone waved at each other.
That idea seemed really pleasant to me, especially since I grew up in a place where that would be impossible — not because the people were terrible, but because if they started doing that, all everyone would ever do is wave.
Later that night, the Morrissons had a bonfire and some people came over.
The initial introductions were a bit awkward, as initial introductions tend to be, but once the ice broke, everyone was welcoming and curious about who I was and what I was doing there.
So within 12 hours of reaching Rockhampton, I had evidence the city wasn't a wasteland filled with unfriendly people.
No snow, no chimney, no fireplace
What else could change? Well, the Christmas celebrations themselves weren't classic Hollywood either.
There was no snow (surprise, surprise), there was no chimney for Santa to climb down, no fireplace at all, in fact.
The only similarities to a "classic" Christmas was the tree and all the presents that lay beneath it.
Another common thread were the family gatherings and social ties.
It has been a long time since I have been able to go back to Dhaka for a celebration and being amongst a family that was similar to mine felt good.
But I noticed several differences in the way my own family and Euan's family celebrates festivals.
Christmas here seems to be more of a celebration of tradition, and religious rituals aren't all that much of a focus.
For example, the Morrissons' Christmas tradition includes listening to Christmas songs (Hi-5 in particular) and driving around Rockhampton to gaze at Christmas lights — we didn't say grace or go to any masses.
Christmas seemed like a reason to get the family together and share a meal.
At the end of the day, it struck me how similar the Morrisson Christmas was to our Eids — the main Islamic festivals — back home.
The differences, although almost always focused on, are only superficial at best.
Yes, we probably eat different types of meat and cook different kinds of food.
We pray to different gods (if any at all) and our rituals are different.
I expected to walk into an unfriendly town and witness a classic Hollywood-style Christmas, but instead I walked into a family reunion in a town where people were warm and welcoming.
I guess the only way to find out about the realities of certain places and people is to try to experience them.
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2020-12-25 02:50:00Z
CBMia2h0dHBzOi8vd3d3LmFiYy5uZXQuYXUvbmV3cy8yMDIwLTEyLTI1L2JhbmdsYWRlc2hpLW11c2xpbS1maXJzdC1hdXN0cmFsaWFuLWNocmlzdGlhbi1jaHJpc3RtYXMtcWxkLzEzMDEyODcy0gEnaHR0cHM6Ly9hbXAuYWJjLm5ldC5hdS9hcnRpY2xlLzEzMDEyODcy
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