Sint II (or I Hear Madrid is Nice This Time of Year)

Sinterklaas, or Sint as the Dutch affectionately refer to him, in many ways is not unlike the North American hero, Santa Claus. Both are loosely based on the third century clergyman from modern day Turkey, whom we now call St. Nicholas. Sint remains very much a religious icon while Jolly Ole St. Nick transformed into a fat guy who prefers red and white fur due in very large part to the 1822 poem most frequently attributed to Clement C. Moore, “trimmed all in fur from his head to his toe”. The popular notion of Santa Claus was propagated by the illustrations of Thomas Nast and also by an ambitious early 20^th century advertising campaign by Coca Cola. You know him; you love him—the pipe smoking, boot wearing right jolly old elf with the long white beard.

The popular image of Sinterklaas, in very much the same way, came from a book published in the late 19^th century. Thanks to the legacy of generosity by the original St. Nicholas, they both are believed to bring gifts to good little boys and girls, and they both are privy to the latest Intel regarding who’s naughty and who’s nice. (More on that in a minute.)

Sint does his gig in late November and early December. He lives far, far away (in Spain) then arrives

pieten

in Holland on his great white horse assisted by his trusted servants called pieten (plural for Piet, short for Zwarte Piet, Black Pete—talk about your cultural can of worms.) For three weeks he travels throughout Holland rewarding deserving children by putting candy in the shoes they have left outside at night. Then on the night of December fifth, Sint and his pieten leave a larger, more substantial gift to each deserving Dutch child. But wait; there’s a kicker, and it’s a doozy.

Sinterklaas gifts left for the neighbors

 

How Santa became affiliated with December 25, the Christian recognition of the day Christ was born is probably enough to fill several blogs. By virtue of a melding of European traditions, especially that of Sinterklaas brought to the new world by Dutch settlers in present day New York, Santa Claus has become an unprecedented philanthropist who happens to do his deal on the same day the world was saved.

When I was a boy, I was led to believe that bad kids got switches and coal in their Christmas stockings. I thought of it as a Christmas report card of sorts. You never really knew how you were doing until Christmas morning, and what a true relief it was to see anything peeking out the top of my stocking besides a bundle of sticks!

 

Illustration by Thomas Nast

Sinterklaas has his own unique deterrent to bad behavior. He doesn’t just deny rotten kids the good stuff the rest of us got, no, oh no. Legend has it that Sint and his pieten put naughty children in burlap bags and cart them off to Spain.

Not too long ago I asked a Dutch colleague of mine if she was told such things when she was a child. She said, “Yes! Absolutely! I was petrified that every year he would carry me away!” So I asked her if she tells her own son the same thing. She answered, “He is three. I don’t want to scare him.”

Scare him? Seriously, scare him? I think being scared would be the least traumatic outcome possible. Then again, I asked my colleague if she behaved as a result of the threat of being taken away. “You’re darn right I did,” she said. “I really didn’t want to end up in Spain!”