How do Jews actually spend Christmas in Australia?

Every December, like clockwork, the ‘Jews go to Chinese restaurants on Christmas’ trope resurfaces. It's a lovely American tradition apparently. But here in Australia? We've got our own version and it involves significantly more sunscreen.

The reality is simple. Christmas Day falls smack bang in the middle of summer and when it's hot Australians – Jewish or otherwise – have one collective response to a public holiday in 30-degree heat: get to a cold body of water.

But first, someone has to keep the country running. Enter the Jewish doctors, nurses and essential workers. While I'm generally wary of stereotypes, I'll stand by this one. Every Christmas morning, there's a disproportionate number of Jewish medical professionals staffing emergency departments across the country. It's practical: we don't celebrate it, so why not work it? And if you’re in the market for a Jewish doctor (to marry, or for a colon cleanse) try to tee-up your bowel impaction for December 24. 

For Jewish kids in two-Jewish-parent households, Christmas morning might involve waking up to a decorated pot plant with presents underneath. These are the ‘guilt gifts’ hastily purchased after Channukah, when the softest parents started to worry that eight nights of gifts still somehow isn't enough to compete with the cultural behemoth of Christmas.

Children of interfaith parents have a different experience entirely. They're the ones sitting at proper Christmas lunches with the ‘non-Jewish’ side of the family, armed with dangerous knowledge. Despite explicit instructions from their parents (do NOT tell your cousins Santa isn't real) they cannot help themselves. They are truth-tellers. Small agents of chaos. Powered by pickles and confusing bible stories which always seem to have the same conflicting moral: obey your parents, but also don’t tell a lie.