Ep. 45: Catalonian Christmas
The Christmas Log That Poops and the Nativity Crasher with His Cheeks Out: A Catalonian Holiday
Ah, Christmas. A time for gifts, togetherness, and a steaming pile of... tradition.
This week on Privy, we deck the stalls with bathroom-themed cheer and take a sleigh ride straight into the heart of Catalonia—because nothing says holiday spirit like beating a log until it poops out candy. Seriously.
A Visit from Santa (and Possibly an Invasion of Privacy)
Before we dive into Catalan culture, let’s acknowledge a surreal moment: Santa Claus himself dropped by my bathroom mid-recording. Yes, the bathroom. I don’t know if I should be honored or contact security. Either way, Merry Christmas, Santa. You weird, magical intruder.
Hometown Holidays: Burgers, Movies, and Military Christmases
Growing up in small-town Montana, my Christmases were a bit unconventional. When you're snowed in and the only thing open is McDonald’s and the movie theater, you make traditions. There were years we didn’t even open presents on Christmas because of my dad’s military schedule. Instead, we made do with leftovers and snacks—truly the food of festive champions.
But even with all that, I had no idea what was going down in northeastern Spain. Buckle up.
Catalonia: It’s Not a Board Game Expansion
Catalonia is not a mythical kingdom like Wakanda, or an alternate spelling of "Settlers of Catan." It's a real region in Spain, bordering France, and includes the province of Barcelona. Over the centuries, it’s played tug-of-war with Spain and France over sovereignty like a geopolitical game of keep-away.
This history of independence struggles sets the stage for a people who know how to make a statement. And nothing makes a statement quite like making a log poop.
Tió de Nadal: The Gift That Keeps on Giving (From Its Rear)
Say hello to the Tió de Nadal, affectionately known as the Caga Tió—literally, the "Pooping Log." And yes, it's exactly what it sounds like.
Here’s how it works:
You bring in a log.
You draw a happy face on it. Sometimes it even gets a jaunty red hat.
You tuck it in under a blanket. This is very important. Make it comfy.
Then you feed it treats and nougat. Like, a lot of nougat.
On Christmas, children take sticks… and beat the absolute crap out of it.
Literally. They sing traditional poop-encouragement songs (yes, really) while they smack the log until it “defecates” goodies—trinkets, toys, and candy—under its blanket.
Like some sort of magical piñata with IBS.
“Merry Christmas, Little Dougie. Now Beat the Log.”
There’s something delightfully unhinged about this. You’ve got kids armed with sticks, whacking a smiling log wrapped like a burrito, yelling songs about him pooping. And when the job is done? You burn him.
Yep. Thanks for the gifts, Tió. Now go up in flames like the ghost of bathroom past. The ashes were once kept for good luck, which, honestly, feels like the least you could do after beating the man into a nougat-based bowel movement.
The Caganer: Mooning the Manger
But wait, Catalonia wasn’t done.
Enter: The Caganer (“The Pooper”), a small porcelain figurine of a squatting peasant, pants down, cheeks out, laying a festive log in the corner of your nativity scene.
No, this isn’t satire. This is tradition.
And before you clutch your pearls—it's not sacrilegious. Catalonians see the Caganer as:
A symbol of humility and humanity.
A nod to the fertility and realism of the nativity.
An actual ancient good luck charm.
Plus, if you grew up with livestock like I did, you know: that manger wasn’t exactly a pristine birthing suite. There was poop there. The Caganer just reminds us not to sanitize something that was quite literally surrounded by hay, animals, and poop.
It's also become a weird little game for kids—like Where’s Waldo, but instead of a striped sweater, you're searching for a guy relieving himself behind a ceramic camel.
A Cultural Legacy of Laughter (and Bathrooming)
The Caganer has since evolved into a collectible. You can find Caganers shaped like celebrities, cartoon characters, and politicians. Yes, somewhere out there, a tiny ceramic version of your president is quietly dropping a Yuletide bomb behind Baby Jesus.
And maybe that's the magic of it all. Because for the Catalans, Christmas isn't just about the sacred or the serious—it's about celebrating life in all its gritty, messy, full-cheeked reality.
