60. Sint Nikolaas

It wasn’t until I began to write this blog post for my grandchildren in Australia that I realised that more than 80 years have now passed since I last believed in the magic of “Sint Nikolaas”, or “Sinterklaas”, as he was known to me when I was a child and still lived in Holland.

The “Sinterklaas feest” (Saint Nicholas feast) in Holland was very different to the Christmas celebrations that we know and share. When I was a young boy, we experienced, on the evening of 5 December and the morning of 6 December, what for us was probably the happiest event of the year and an occasion which felt even more special and important than our own birthday parties.

In contrast, Christmas in Holland in the 1940s and 50s, although it was a very special time for us, was celebrated with church services, trees with candles and beautiful music. It did not involve any presents, i.e. it was not “commercialised”. Christmas was a peaceful, quiet, dignified and serious celebration, which focussed on the story of the birth of Christ.

I have very happy memories of the Sinterklaas celebrations of my youth. Our parents always tried to do everything they could to make it an unforgettable experience for us, even during the long and difficult war years. I remember the cold and sometimes snowy December weather in our village and the contrast with the inside of our house, our refuge, with its warm living room with the pot belly stove with its rack around it, where we enjoyed hot chocolate milk and listened to beautiful Sinterklaas songs on the radio.

The Dutch Sinterklaas is said to be based on the historical figure of Saint Nicholas, a Greek bishop based in Turkey, many centuries ago, but this ancient connection appears to have been forgotten. Children in Holland from my generation believed that St Nikolaas arrived each year by steamship from Spain, because that’s what the very popular songs told us.  I think that I always thought of him as being an old man with a long white beard, who wore a white and red bishop’s costume and a red mitre and who held a long staff. I was most impressed by his beard and his kind face and I could well imagine him riding a white horse and being all-knowing.  He carried a book in which everything about me was recorded, such as whether or not I had been good and, I suppose, I was probably slightly worried that he would find out that I had been naughty.

The festivities traditionally started several weeks before 5 December, when the “Sint” (Saint) arrived by “stoomboot” (steamboat).  I don’t recall having ever witnessed this, nor do I have any flashbacks of him riding on his white horse, but I think that I did see him, when I was very young, in the big department store, “Vroom & Dreesman”, in the city of Leiden.

The Sint was always accompanied by one or more “Zwarte Pieten” (Black Peters), who carried a bag and a “roe” (a birch rod) and who threw “pepernoten” (small gingerbread-like cookies) towards us children. The words in some of the old Sinterklaas songs indicate that Zwarte Piet would put naughty children in his bag and take them back with him to Spain. Our parents never referred to this, nor did they mention the “roe”. and, while I was perhaps slightly apprehensive, I don’t think I was ever very afraid of Zwarte Piet.

Zwarte Piet was traditionally dressed in colourful clothes and a cap with a feather, and his face was always painted black. In recent times there have been growing concerns voiced in the media that his appearance could be interpreted as being “racist”. This did lead, in some parts of the country, to protests and even to violent clashes. I seem to remember that these disturbances were even reported on the main TV channels here in Australia. I understand that surveys of public opinion on this matter showed that while, in 2013, less than 10% thought that Zwarte Piet’s portrayal was racist, by 2020 less than half of those surveyed still supported his traditional appearance. Even the then prime minister of The Netherlands became involved, stating in the Dutch parliament that he had changed his own opinion and now had more understanding for people who thought Zwarte Piet’s appearance was racist.

Luckily, as a child in Holland, 80 or so years ago, I had no such thoughts or concerns. I just accepted Zwarte Piet as being a vital character in the magical happening of delicious food, lovely music and, above all, presents and more presents!

It was the custom that, in the evenings leading up to 5 December, we placed a shoe next to the fireplace before we went to bed, in the hope that Sinterklaas or Zwarte Piet would somehow manage to climb down the chimney and leave a present for us. I don’t think I believed this for very long, but I probably decided not to question it or make an issue of it as I was only interested in the end result, which was to find a present the following morning, preferably something edible, such as a “suikerbeestje” (a sweet entirely made out of sugar in the form of a small animal).  

In early December each year a large variety of sweet treats suddenly became available to us.   Apart from  the “pepernoten” (spice nuts) thrown around by Zwarte Piet and the “suikerbeestjes” in our shoes, there were big  “chocolate letters” (for me the letter P), beautiful figures shaped in marzipan and “banketletters” or “banketstaven” (almond pastry letters or rolls). Our mother made sure that there were plenty of these special delicacies for each of us. Obviously, no-one was too concerned back then about diabetes.

As far as other presents were concerned, my sister, Liesbeth, wrote: “At Sinterklaas all the children had to move upstairs and Piet had to look after them. My mother got out all the presents which she had bought bit by bit during the year and put them in the tub. She then called us and gave us a mug of warm chocolate milk and one by one we were allowed to unwrap a parcel.”

Finally, what we all loved very much before and during December were the special Sinterklaas songs such as:

“Zie ginds gaat the stoomboot” (Look, there goes the steamboat)

“Sinterklaasje kom maar binnen met je knecht” (St Nicholas please come inside with your servant)

“Hoor de wind waait door de bomen” (Listen to the wind in the trees)

and many other beautiful little songs that I have never forgotten. In fact, I sang them for my children and grandchildren and sometimes even for myself, when I was feeling homesick or low.

I will always remember Sinterklaas as being very special, as a time which we looked forward to with a lot of anticipation and excitement, a time of sweets, presents, songs, warmth, and above all, a time when we became aware of the great love that parents have for their children. They were precious times, never to be forgotten.

O.P.

P.S. My walking friend, Frederick, has written the next blog post, to be published on 8 December, with the title “The Wedding of the Giants”.