Sinterklaas and first week of December

The Christmas tree is up and decorated with bows, bears and balls, the vibrant red poinsettias line the window sills, the stockings are up, the Nutcrackers guarding the kitchen window and angels watch over us from every corner of the house. Red bows and a wreath on the table with candle complete our Christmas decor. Santa Clause movies 1 and 2 have been watched, and we are one Christmas Carol away from being in full on Christmas mode.
It has been a rough-ish week. I could tell you all about how Micah and I have been lying around doing nothing, the house falling in disarray because we were both sick, or my week long monotonous diet of rice, apple sauce and toast (you get the idea) but that would be boring. At least I lost 3 lbs this week.
How about the Sinterklaas tradition here in Netherlands? I haven't quite figured out the finer details. Essentially they have the Dutch version of Santa Clause, called Sinterklaas. He wears a red papal hat, carries a papal stick, has the same long red robes as Santa Clause, and a long white beard. His preferred mode of transportation is a steam ship and he arrives on his ship from his permanent residence in Spain, around the 1st of December. His journey and arrival are closely followed by the media, who apparently is in on the charade of juvenile mass-deception. All week long the kids can put a wood shoe out in front of the door and the next morning they can check if there are goodies in it. On December 5th they gather as a family, sing Sinterklaas songs until they are interrupted by a knock on the door. The kids rush to the door but Sinterklaas, fast, professional, and busy, is usually gone by the time they arrive, his presence evidenced only by a pile of gifts for the kids. Disappointed but happy they unwrap the gifts while the grandparents show up, late as usual with apologies and disappointment of having so narrowly missed his visit.
Sinterklaas has a helper called the Black Peter (schwarze piete, sp?). He wears colorful clothes and hands out Peppernoten everywhere, tiny spice cookies. I asked someone why the black pete is black and has curly hair. Apparently he is the chimney sweep that climbs down the chimney to put the presents out for the kids. What I found surprising is that kids and adults during this week dress up as Schwarze pete everywhere. In fact, the Schwarze Piet is as represented as Santa Clause in the malls in the USA.
I went to Ezra's school Sinterklaas. As I was watching the kids go through the Charades I couldn't help but be bored and annoyed. I wondered if I had always disliked these "Shows" as much, or if I had just grown old and cynical. I came to the conclusion that I couldn't remember ever liking them. I didn't mind theater or movies, but I remember rebelling against anything that was trying to be past off as true and that was clearly not. My dislike for Santa Clause probably also came from the fact that the Swiss Version called Samichlaus generated mostly fear. He would come the 6th December. We would gather at a friends house and one of the parents would dress up as Samichlaus. He would have a helper called Schmutzli (Schmutz means dirt), a monk in a brown robe, in charge of leading the donkey with the burlap bags of nuts and oranges. (If you had wealthy parents, they would even arrange for a real donkey at these kinds of gatherings). Then when Samichlaus showed up you had to kneel in front of him and recite a poem. Then he would ask you if you were a good boy/girl that year, and if you were you would get some nuts and oranges, but if you weren't Schmutzly took out his rod and beat you. It was implied that if you were very naughty he would put you in the burlap bag, beat you, and take you back to the black forest (Schwarzwald). Honestly, the Schwarzwald is actually very pretty, but at the time it sounded terrifying.
I was somewhat shy but observant as a kid, and although being terrified I did remark the similarities between the Samichlaus and certain of my dad's friends. I still remember the day that I found the costume in the bottom of my dad's cupboard. I went upstairs and said: A-ha. I knew it! It was very much like the painting from Norman Rockwell of the boy who discovers the suit in the drawer, titled very appropriately THE DISCOVERY (although I wasn't wearing jammis at the time, and I didn't look quite so shocked, because it was only a confirmation of my suspicions).