I love the Christmas story. (And I very much enjoyed reading this correction of some of the details that have been distorted over the years.)

But many -- most, even -- of the ways the Christmas season is routinely celebrated around the world I really detest. I hate the commercialism, hate the excessiveness, hate the endless tinny versions of carols... Whether you're in Cote d'Ivoire, New Zealand, or Malaysia, there's just no escaping red-suited Santas and tedious snow scenes.

So I'm very happy to be spending Advent in Yogya, where we are blissfully free of imposed Christmas razzmatazz.

Our local Indomaret had a few jingly carols playing yesterday. But apart from that, my Christmas experiences this year have been:

-- Listening to a really awe-inspiring a capella version of The Little Drummer Boy by Pentatonix

-- Smiling at a classic picture of a friend's toddler, who -- on encountering a shop-provided Santa Claus for the very first time -- fails to do the accepted thing and smile shyly at the big guy's bonhomie, but instead, scrunches up his little eyes and opens up his little mouth in a big, fat, impressive scream

-- Receiving a Christmas card from my inlaws, which has journeyed from the UK to New Zealand, where we have a permanent post box, and then to our perumahan in Ngoto

Because the season is so low-key here, and I've not been overrun with gratuitous paraphernalia, the Christmas tree kindly provided by Tembi felt like something special -- photo-worthy, even.