An optimist, according to author Bill Vaughn, “stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.”
Ideally, with sufficient preparation, you can ensure that guests and family welcomes in the New Year — with optimism and plans to optimize.
JANUS
Janus was the Roman god of beginnings. On ancient coins, his face is shown in double profile-he is looking back over the year just ended, while also looking forward to the year about to begin. He is the official god of beginnings, after whom the month of January is named.
Janus is often associated with opposites. And you can make opposites the theme of your gathering. Celebrate Janus’ duality with a black-and-white decor, for example. Or, hot and cold entrees. Or desserts that offer the range from “fire” to “ice.”
Plan on old and new conversational tidbits. American and foreign cuisine. For example, start with a French “amuse bouche” (tasty hors d’oeuvre), then segue to a tried-and-true American entree. You could even make it a game — award a bottle of champagne to the person who can find the most opposites in your living and dining areas.
JANUARY
It’s the shivery month, and, even if you are celebrating in warmer climes, you can serve comfort food and comfort drinks — hot toddies are a source of delight no matter the season, eggnog, too. What lovelier way to celebrate life on this eve of celebration, than to quote Ranier Maria Rilke: “And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us — new, untouched, and full of things that have never been...”
Think about the things that have never been, perhaps, in your own small attempt to effect peace in the world, you could invite people from different cultures, different religions, different parts of the world. Better yet, ask each to bring a pot-lucky meal, a sample of cuisine enjoyed by people of their ethnic background.
If you intend to have the same guests a year from now at your New Year’s Eve festivities, put a small pad and pencil at each table, and then, when everyone is relaxed and full, ask them to write out 10 predictions for the New Year. They can write about politics, world events, national issues, their own careers, their families, things that they think will happen in the community, with the stock market, to celebrities, et cetera.
You’re a loyal friend, one who can be trusted to safeguard these folded up predictions for the next twelve months, and you’ll have great fun on New Year’s Eve, 2011, when each person reads their previous predictions aloud. Award a special prize to the person who had the most accurate foretelling.
JANIZARIES
Janizaries are loyal soldiers. In the war against the cold of the season and cold of impersonality, here are some things you can do to show your loyalty to your guests.
- Have a sign on your front door, welcoming your guests.
- The best listeners abide by the 50/50 rule — they talk half the time and listen half the time. (An Active Voice blog applies the rule to social media situations.
If you feel that one person is dominating the conversation, or if you notice someone who hasn’t been able to get a word in, ask the silent guest a question in the first conversational lull — one that will evoke insights and not just a monosyllabic reply.
- Ask in advance if there are any special food restrictions — non-alcoholic drinks, vegan meals, lactose-intolerance, et cetera. And, turn to your files (if you don’t have them, start them in the new year) to remind yourself which guests prefer decaffeinated coffee, who likes tea instead of coffee, who’s allergic to peanuts, who finds anchovies abhorrent, et cetera.
- Give thought to the seating. If any of the guests are large people, seat them at the end so they will have more room than seated, along the side of the table. (Give them your sturdiest seats, too.)
- Fill a gift bag for each guest to hand out as people leave. There is no reason to fill the bags with costly items, just something that is symbolic of the season.
These are easy and inexpensive gestures, not like those native Papua New Guineans offer foreign visitors. Barbara Kuecken, author of Hanna, Silent Witness, and a representative of New Tribes Mission, tells of tribal members assembling stick beds, and making private commodes carved from the earth to extend hospitality to their guests.
Lorinda Hector, a British homemaker known for her hospitality, reports that New Year’s Eve celebrations occur in a variety of ways in England.
Many want to be in the company of other people, she reports, so they plan a night out on the town, or join others at the fountain at Trafalgar Square in London, or stay at home with the family, or go to church to thank God for the past year. Not surprisingly, they also want to be in church for the first few minutes of the New Year.
In Scotland, she says, Hogmanay is celebrated from New Year’s Eve into New Years Day. The Hogmanay custom of singing “Auld Lang Syne” has spread too many other shores, of course, but there, “Auld Lang Syne” is sung in a circle of linked arms that are crossed over one another as the clock strikes midnight for New Year’s Day.
(Sometimes, warmth and welcome are simply a matter of good manners, as shown in this anecdote about another British woman, one whose name history has failed to record. She moved in London’s upper circle, and so had the good fortune to dine on two separate occasions with Gladstone and then with his political archrival Disraeli.
Asked to compare the two, she replied, “When I left the dining room after sitting next to Mr. Gladstone, I thought he was the cleverest man in England. But after sitting next to Mr. Disraeli, I thought I was the cleverest woman in England.”)
HOLD A HOSPITALI-TEA
If you simply want to put your feet up and watch the televised ball fall in Times Square with your family and close friends, hold a “hospitali-tea” instead of dinner. When you invite your guests, ask each to have a story ready to share about a time when they encountered special hospitality.
To illustrate, one of our friends told about a time she called an old college chum to say she would be in town for a day or two on a business trip. The chum insisted the woman stay with her, even though she’d be arriving late from the airport. The chum said the door would be open for her and the bed made up, awaiting her. They planned on a leisurely breakfast together in the morning.
The woman arrived in the complex, where all the houses looked alike. She found the home, went in the open door, and slept on the sofa. She thought it strange her chum hadn’t put any sheets or pillows out, but didn’t think about it too long. In the morning, she went to the bathroom and saw a prescription bottle on the counter...in the name of someone she didn’t know.
She immediately fled the house and in the daylight, ran to the home of her chum, who quickly called the neighbor to explain they’d had an unwanted guest during the night. The neighbor, in a fine example of hospitality, assured her, “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. We can put her up again tonight, if she likes!”
We began with a Roman god. We’ll end with a Greek goddess: Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, the domestic ruler of Mount Olympus.
Hers was the non-judgmental love parents extend to children, good friends to one another, and hosts/hostesses to their guest. Her pantry was always well-stocked and her door always open, to friends and strangers alike.
She represented the warmth of a fire in the hearth, and the centeredness that makes others comfortable.
In honor of her welcoming ways, consider asking each guest to bring along someone he or she knows, but that no one else knows.
It’s a great way to widen your circle of friends, and to extend your hospitality to strangers, in keeping with the Hestian tradition, and with Rilke’s description of a New Year, full of things that have never been.
Sources:
www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus
www.theactivevoice.com/tag/twitter
www.gogreece.about.com/cs/mythology/a/mythhestia.htm