An #Expat Easter

Easter Sunday started like any other day.  I watched the sun rise as it peeped over the mountains of the San Fernando valley and greeted the new day, a ritual I’ve developed since being in Los Angeles and one that I’m grateful for.  Having lived in houses previously where one had to get in the car and go for a drive to see the sun rise, I was delighted to find that I could now watch it from the comfort of my own home.  Of course there are days when the fog rolls over the mountains, obscuring the view and there are others where there is a general haze that does the same, but for the most part I do get to start each day by greeting the sun and watching the brilliant golden orb rise into the sky.

 The difference today and the last few days, was that I knew it was the Easter weekend. Having been brought up in a Christian household, Easter had religious meanings in our family and we would often attend a church service on Easter Sunday or at least talk about what Easter meant to the religion that we subscribed to.  These days though, not belonging to any particular religion as such, it still does seem to be a time of reflection.

Having grown up in Australia and New Zealand, Easter would mean well and truly that the summer was over.  The nights would be getting cooler and there was a hint of the winter to come.  New Zealand even more so, being a cooler climate.  As a family we would sometimes go away and make use of the four day weekend, knowing that there wouldn’t be another one for a while to come. 

Being involved in the music industry in New Zealand, means that it’s time for the Tauranga Jazz Festival, where so many music lovers and musicians all converge at The Mount for a four day music extravaganza each year.  I had secretly wished one day to play at the festival and had we not left New Zealand when we did, it would have become a reality, but I couldn’t hold up our whole move for three months just for the one event. So my absence gave someone else the opportunity and for that I’m happy and I can imagine the festival taking place and all the good times and music being shared.

My late father was a drummer and had been invited to play at the festival many times over the years.  Unfortunately his passing early in 2013 meant that he had played his final festival the previous year, so for Easter 2013 we made the pilgrimage in his honor knowing that he was with us in spirit.  No jazz festival that I know of in LA as such, but certainly lot of live music being played on a regular basis.

The other noticeable missing element of Easter in these parts is the famous hot cross buns.  There are plenty of chocolate Easter eggs in the shop fronts and filling up the shelves to entice consumers as they pass by, but no hot cross buns, in fact not even plain hot buns, without the cross. I mentioned this to a few people who apparently didn’t even know what a hot cross bun was until I explained it, only to see a kind of vacant look in their eyes. We all know that chocolate eggs and hot cross buns aren’t the true meaning of Easter, but they are symbolic of Easter, at least in the places where I’ve spent most of my life.  But not to worry.  Who needs the extra calories anyway?  I read that the hot cross bun is under attack, with a variety of different flavors sweeping the market.  It was only a matter of time I suppose.  Still, I always enjoyed getting up early and making a trip to #Bakers Delight to pick up a batch of freshly baked buns.

It has been strange being so far away from family, as Easter would always be a time when at least some of us would come together for a meal or an excursion, perhaps a walk on the beach or a catch up over a good cup of kiwi coffee.  Now days though, with family in multiple countries and time zones and with me living in California, by the time my Easter Sunday arrives and it isn’t too early to call New Zealand or Australia, their Easter has already passed and they’re hopefully enjoying a relaxing extra public holiday, known as Easter Monday.  

For those residing in the USA, it’s back to work on Monday, unless you've taken extra leave.  No extended weekend in this part of the world.

So I make my home brew espresso coffee, thinking of home and those hot cross buns and toying with the idea of making some of our own next year.  Who knows, maybe it’ll take off here?

Happy Easter to all.

Arohanui