The Swedish Lucia tradition even works in the hot Congolese climate. Photo: Birgitta Åhman

As an Englishman abroad, I bring little in the way of tradition to Sweden. Luckily, there are plenty of them to keep me busy in my adopted homeland.

In particular there is Lucia. I say in particular because I have two young daughters, and when one has children, Lucia comes into its own. If there is one thing little girls dream about, it’s to be chosen as this year’s Lucia.

Lucia Congo style
Perhaps this childhood attachment is the reason why Swedes, wherever they are, seem unable and unwilling to let go of Lucia. Indeed, even in the near constant 30^oC in the Republic of the Congo, Africa – a place least suited to a Nordic winter festival – Lucia lives on. Birgitta Åhman from the Mission Covenant Church of Sweden in Brazzaville tells us how this came about.

"It was actually our honorary consul, a Congolese doctor, who last year suggested that we put on a traditional Lucia festival, but I was more than happy to agree," she says.

"At home, in Sweden, the Lucia procession is a very solemn business. But it’s very difficult for Africans to sing without moving and clapping their hands. Our Lucia (traditionally a blond, blue-eyed Swede) was a local Congolese girl from the choir, and all the supporting cast were locals, too.”

The result was that a distinct African rhythm was brought to the proceedings, and a very different atmosphere from a Swedish Lucia – something that was appreciated by the crowd of 200–300.

This year, Congo hosts its second Lucia, and it remains an informal affair, with the Swedish Mission and the local honorary consul putting up the SEK 5,000 (USD 735) or so to fund it and the local choir lending a hand to bake lussekatter, the saffron buns associated with Lucia.

Lucia celebrations just wouldn't be the same without Swedish "glögg", "pepparkakor" and "lussekatter". Photo: Pål Allan / www.imagebank.sweden.se

Serious business
Closer to home, in London, formality returns to the Lucia proceedings as big business intervenes. There Lucia is a huge event, with sponsorship from Swedish bank SEB and Scandinavian Airlines: ten concerts in different venues – the main event in Westminster Cathedral and smaller ones in the Swedish Churches – and performances from local and Swedish choirs, with audiences of more than 5,000 and costs to match.

It's a similar story in Ottawa, Canada, where Ikea has a hand in events. David Strömberg, information assistant at the Swedish Embassy, says: "Ikea provides us with a julbord, a buffet of Swedish Christmas food, which is very popular. The rest of the event is co-sponsored and organized by the Embassy and the Canadian Museum of Civilisation."

And it's some event. At a cost of CAD 62,000 (SEK 370,000 or USD 54,300), there is a certain air of formality about it, too. "There are two local choirs who, although Canadian, sing entirely in Swedish. They are very good,” Strömberg says. “The Lucia is always a Swedish girl, though, but there is no blond-hair-blue-eye criterion by any means. And with all 700 seats always filled we recoup around 11,000 dollars of our costs."

The heart of the matter
In case you were beginning to think that the spirit of Lucia had been lost to ticket sales and corporate sponsors, Petra Lindberg, Swedish teacher at Tokai University in Hiratsuka, Japan, brings reassuring news. "Lucia here is just about tradition and cultural learning,” she says. “My students are the performers and we put on two or three shows a year. It's a great way to introduce them to a traditional Swedish cultural phenomenon."


Swede Petra Lindberg's students Masumi Kobayashi, Tomoka Fukata and Kei Ogasawara have used their lunch breaks to learn the Lucia songs in Swedish. Photo: Petra Lindberg

Lindberg's students vote for the Lucia among themselves. They perform once at the university, then twice more in the town of Karuizawa. "For these, our travel and accommodation is paid for by the town," Lindberg says, "but in Hiratsuka, we charge a small entrance fee to the 100 people that attend, which just covers our costs.” She underlines that the whole event is a personal project, solely driven by the students’ initiative.

So with Japanese, Canadian, British and Swedish singers warming up their vocal cords and the Congolese choir finding its Lucia rhythm, one thing is clear: this December 13, Swedes around the globe will unite for yet another irresistible Lucia festival.

Who makes what?
Congo: Glögg*, saffron, pepparkakor* and Lucia's crown are imported. The local choir makes the lussekatter.
Ottowa: Glögg, lussekatter and a traditional Swedish julbord is provided by Ikea.
Hiratsuka: Costumes, ribbons, candles, glögg and pepparkakor are imported from Sweden. The students and some local housewives make the lussekatter.

*Glögg is the Swedish version of mulled wine, i.e. warm wine with sugar and spices.
*Pepparkakor is the Swedish word for ginger snaps.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rob Hincks is a British freelance writer and editor based in Stockholm. The idea of Lucia is very appealing to him for 364 days a year; then his daughters wake him with candles at 6 am, and he remembers the reality.

The author alone is responsible for the opinions expressed in this article.

Classification: A173EN

© Photo 1: Birgitta Åhman 
© Photo 2: Pål Allan / www.imagebank.sweden.se
© Photo 3: Petra Lindberg