Santa's Saga:10 Years of Being Jolly in Beijing

Being a Santa is a professional responsibility that requires a great deal of care and concern.

As with clowns, Santas are real heroes, in fact, being a Santa is a lot like being a super hero. I know many drunken losers play Santa (as with Billy Bob Thornton in the movie Bad Santa) as last-resort jobs in some places. Those despots have soiled many adults' imaginations; but for innocent kids, the fantasy is a sheer delight. Think about it; you run around in a silly costume helping charities do good deeds; you are instantly recognized and trusted. Magic tricks and the smiles they evoke are your super powers, and you must protect your true identity at all costs.

The Saga Begins

Christmas 1994: Renmin University of China

Back in the days of bread-truck taxis (miandi) and separate ticket prices for foreigners, when hot water and good chocolate were scarce, the schools subtly discouraged the celebration of Christmas by scheduling a full day of finals on December 25.

Still, expat teachers sometimes huddled in the room of the Farlanders, a 70ish American couple who had taught English on almost every continent, to almost every kind of learner, and joined Mr. Farlander as he strummed his jazz bass while his hip, chain-smoking wife sang Christmas carols while somehow managing to whip up brownies from a mix that she'd smuggled in six months earlier. It was at their behest that I dressed like Santa to complete the festive mood.

''Yo, Parsons, you seem jolly. Get with the ho, ho ho's!''

So it began; a super fake cotton beard that smelled like medicine, a red sock as a hat, and my government-issue bean pillow wrapped in a standard double happiness blanket for a belly. Bobbing-head toy gifts were all we master's-degree holders could afford on our 800-yuan-a-month salaries. Since then I have upgraded my Santa suit, while my business and acceptance by locals has grown exponentially every season.

2001: Beijing Turns into ''Iceland''

It was the strangest weather I had ever seen in all my years in Beijing. While spreading cheer inside a children's hospital, outside a sheet of 1-inch thick ice was covering everything. The Third Ring road was closed down. It was also the night of my biggest gig. I put my reputation on the line while negotiating this gig at the European Union Embassy. (Yes there is such a thing and they even have an ambassador.) I left an hour early just to ensure that I arrived on time and safely. Then the ice came. I was stuck, in full Santa garb, in a pungent taxi on the Third Ring.

What should have taken 20 minutes, even in bad Beijing traffic, was taking hours. We saw dozens of accidents, because no one could stop on the ice. My face-painting elf and I grabbed our suitcases and guitar and hoofed it down the Sanhuan Lu. We got a few ''strange looks'' but many more smiles.

Having been inside for most of the day, the ambassador didn't believe me when I described the weather conditions. The ''important'' local and international guests had all arrived at 6 p.m. when the sun was still out. The irate ambassador was threatening to do things that only Heads of State could do if I didn't make it by the final, ultimate deadline, about 9 p.m. as I recall. It was a classic moment I will never forget. I kicked open the door at 8:59 p.m., and as the door swung open there I was, Santa, with my bags overflowing with gifts and the wind and first snow of the season swirling about my haggard but majestic form.

As the snow flew in, all the children screamed at the top of their lungs with joy. I could feel the belief radiate from their little creative minds. The parents also roared with happiness, none of them wanted to tell their kids why Santa couldn't make it. The ambassador gave me a nod of approval, and he later became one of my best customers!

A few Chinese families even said. ''Thank you. Now we have seen with our own eyes what Christmas and Santa are all about!''

I have never felt so much like the real Santa as I did at that moment. I use that memory to fuel my own belief when my energy sometimes dips at less-exciting events nowadays.

2002: NOW Zhu Ni Shendanjie Kuaile! (Merry Christmas!)

Christmas gift-giving is now widely accepted in China and Santa can now be found almost everywhere. There's a lot more competition. It seems that any overweight expat with a beard can take time off from torturous teaching duties to make with the ho, ho, ho's. I fear that it won't be long before ''Bad Santas'' will begin to show up here. I look forward to 10 more years as a gift-giver/superhero, teaching charity by example, while helping to keep creative kids smiling.