Dreaming of a Red Christmas

Prague, the Golden City, the Heart of Europe, is undoubtedly a magical place, especially in Christmas. Those who hear that I live in Prague say "Oh, you're so lucky". Yes, I was lucky to have been born here but, for the looks of it, I was also lucky to have left just after I was born.

Thanks to my father's profession, my family moved around a lot. In fact, one would say that having lived in Europe, Africa, and the United States, I should be accustomed to most climates. In fact, I never had a problem - both mentally and physically (and here I would like to stress the latter) adjusting to the different countries I lived in... until we moved back to Prague four years ago, that is. It is here that I became a member of a generation that I didn't want to be a part of. The one with allergies.

It all started very innocently in the first months of spring that I lived in the city. I took a walk in Prague's Stromovka park on a beautiful sunny day. It was like having been beamed out of the city into the countryside. Unfortunately, though, a few hours later I was beamed into the hospital. I can't remember how I got there but the doctors soon enlightened me why. I had an asthma attack because I was allergic to the blossoming trees in the park. "Unfortunately, you are a member of the weak and fragile generation," they said. "All the junk food, and lack of fresh air and exercise thanks to the attractiveness of television and computers have affected much of your and also the next generation."

You may be wondering why I am telling you this story, especially since my discovery of my allergies lies some years back. The fact is that thanks to this diagnosis, I have come to dread Christmas. Not the winter season but Christmas itself. Ever since I've moved to Prague, ever since the doctors told me that I was suffering from a universal allergy, I have had an allergic reaction to something that's part of the Czech Christmas tradition. I call it the "Christmas curse" and I knew that this year would be no exception.

Two Christmases ago, I decided to help my mother with the traditional potato salad. I scrubbed the potatoes and put them in water to boil. An easy task but with serious consequences. Minutes later, my hands swelled up and itched like mad for hours. I was suddenly allergic to potatoes.

Last Christmas, my mother decided to make carp for the first time... how was she to know that I'd have an allergic reaction to that?

Well, this year, despite my anticipation that the Christmas curse would not spare me I decided to buy a real Christmas tree. We've always had an artificial tree but with my entire extended family coming together to celebrate the holidays I thought there is nothing that adds to the Christmas spirit more than a real pine tree. I bought, I carried it home, decorated it, and much to my surprise, ended up in bed with a ballooned face and hands all covered in red, itchy dots!