Not So Secret Santa
Everyone loves gifts. But giving is better than getting. This is human nature. I don’t know why but it feels so good to give, regardless of what you give. Every culture has a tradition of giving. Currently, I’m in China, where people build, maintain, and flourish relationships by giving money. Yes, money is their best gift. If it’s someone’s wedding, you give money. If it’s Valentine’s Day, you give money. If it’s Chinese New Year, you give money.
But what do you do when it’s Christmas, do you still give money?
“Let’s do Secret Santa,” I told my Chinese colleagues. They all looked at each other. “It’s so much fun,” I said. They gave me blank looks. “I’m not asking you to celebrate Christmas,” I laughed, “we will only do a gift exchange, to celebrate the holiday season and our friendship,” I said. They smiled. “How much, Alex?”(they don’t know my real name) Liyan asked. Liyan is the head of our department. “Each person will be someone’s Secret Santa,” I said. “But how much?” Liyan asked again. I raised my eyebrows.
“She’s asking how much money to give each other,” Ivana laughed. Ivana is from Serbia, but in reality, she is almost like a native Chinese. She’s been in China for 15 years, speaks fluent Mandarin, and can do the perfect Asian squat. “Who said anything about money?” I smiled at Liyan, “you will buy a gift for the person whose name you draw,” I said.
“It’s better if I do the explanation,” Ivana tapped on my shoulder.
She spoke in Chinese for 30 seconds. Everyone smiled, some nodded their heads, and a few even clapped. “Let’s do this,” Ivana grabbed a few pieces of paper and passed them around. She told everyone to write their name and a short wish list, and return the folded paper to her. She collected all the names, put them in a small basket, and then each of us drew a name. I saw Liyan’s face wrinkled when she read the name she drew. Oops, whoever she got is definitely not getting a raise, I thought. Humans are funny creatures, some of us can’t hide how we feel, I thought, regardless of who we are or where we are from.
We decided to do the gift exchange next Friday. But the following day, we got the news from the government that they were getting rid of daily nucleic acid tests. The next few days, people started calling in sick.
“I guess we should cancel the Secret Santa,” Ivana sent a message in our WeChat group.
“I already bought a gift,” I wrote.
“Who is it for?” A colleague wrote.
“You’re not supposed to say!” I wrote, “but this person is not at the office these days haha.”
“Just return it,” Ivana wrote.
“I have an idea,” the head of our department wrote, “we can send money via WeChat.”
“But Liyan,” I wrote, “that’s not fun.”
“Money is fun,” someone wrote, which was followed by a series of emojis from everyone.
“What’s the point if we all send the same amount to each other?” I wrote.
“We already know the wish list,” someone wrote, “so we check the online price of the gift and send that amount haha.”
“That can work!” Liyan wrote.
“Okay boss,” Ivana wrote. And everyone sent a thumbs-up emoji.
The following Friday morning, my phone beeped. I opened my WeChat and saw a message from a colleague. He sent a red packet (digital money) to our WeChat group. It read “FOR IVANA BABY.”
Ivana sent a screen grab showing that she received 866 RMB (around $120 USD). She wrote, “Thank you!!! Now I can finally buy that handbag haha.”
I sent 666 RMB (around $95 USD) to my colleague who wanted a Swatch watch. He sent a video of himself jumping on his couch at home.
Every 15 minutes or so, the phone beeped, and someone received their red packet. Just before lunch, most of the red packets were sent out. The highest amount sent was around $200 USD and of course, it was for the head of our department, Liyan. Someone’s sucking up, I shook my head. The lowest was $80 USD.
I recalled what I wrote on my wish list. There were three things:
Joey L.’s new photo book, Ethiopia (around $90 USD)
Lomography’s LomoKino, an analog movie-maker toy camera (around $50 USD)
Godiva dark chocolate truffles set (around $60 USD)
I wonder who is my Secret Santa, I thought. I looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass window in our office, took a photo with my phone, and sent it to our WeChat group. “For those of you at home,” I wrote. “Love how the sky changes colors,” someone wrote. “Evenings are the best,” Ivana wrote. Where is my fucking red envelope, I put my laptop in the bag, and took the elevator down.
On the way to the metro station, I opened the WeChat group and paired up the red envelopes. There were two people who were still waiting, me and this girl from accounting. “Hey hey! Who do you think is your Secret Santa?” I sent her a private message. “Oh, I picked my own name,” she wrote back right away. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I wrote. “I don’t know how this game works haha,” she wrote, “enjoy your weekend!”
I got home, showered, and ordered sushi on the Meituan food delivery app. After a few minutes, the phone beeped. I picked it up to see how far the delivery driver was, but it was a WeChat message. I clicked on it and saw a red packet with my name on it. Finally, I smiled and opened it.
It was for 88 RMB (around $12 USD). WTF! I double-clicked on Liyan’s photo. And the message appeared in our WeChat group: Alex tickled Liyan.
“8 is the luckiest number in China,” Liyan wrote, “didn’t know you loved dark chocolates.”
All of a sudden, I recalled the moment from last week in our office when Liyan’s face wrinkled when she read the name she drew. Fuck me, I thought. I immediately went online and searched for Godiva dark chocolate luxury gift sets. I screengrabbed the one for 888 RMB (around $125 USD) and sent it to our group.
“Thank you so much, boss,” I wrote, “I feel very lucky.”
