For journalist and world traveller Steven Knipp, the festive season has arrived in many formats. Through the beautiful imagery of George Tapan, the world-renowned Philippine photographer, he paints a picture of a celebration quite unlike any other — as Christmas comes to the Philippines.

As a small boy growing up outside New York City, I would impatiently await the Christmas season every year — the snowy roads and flickering of candlelight behind frosted windows. Christmas carols on the car radio, helping my dad hang strings of little red and green lights outside our house, then decorating the Christmas tree itself. The final step was to set out hot cocoa for Santa to warm himself with on Christmas Eve, having (hopefully) left gifts under our glistening tree for my brothers and sister and me.

Later though, when I grew up, friends often marvelled that in the years since, I’ve spent so many Christmases in the tropical islands of the Philippines. They wondered how I could feel the Christmas spirit in such a sun-drenched place, where there’s no snow nor silver icicles hanging from frosted window sills, no cheery fireplaces. And no Christmas trees!

Okay, here are my reasons. The first is superficial, skin deep, but my second motivation goes to the heart of what Christmas is supposed to mean.

In terms of sheer physical beauty, the Philippines is one of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever seen. The easy equal of French Polynesia, or Bali, or such Caribbean jewels as Jamaica and Barbados. The chief reason I love Christmas in the Philippines, however, is that there is perhaps no other place where it is so joyously celebrated. And little wonder: they’ve been marking Christmas for nearly 400 years since the Catholic Church arrived in Spanish colonial times.

Beginning in the 15th century, it was pious Spanish priests who regaled the Islanders with tales of the Baby Jesus, born to his parents José and Maria in a manger, and who introduced music-loving Filipinos to Christmas hymns and morning mass — known in the Islands as Masa de Gallo (the “Rooster’s Mass”). This was also when the bemused Islanders found themselves encumbered with such dubious-sounding Asian surnames as Lopez, Ramos, San Jose, Dela Cruz….

When the Americans appeared as new colonialists, they established the concept of Christmas trees, carol singing and a hot cocoa-crazed gift-giving fat man named Santa. Some Filipinos refer to this bizarre multi-cultural experience as “three centuries in a convent, followed by 50 years in Hollywood.”

While there are few pine forests on these sultry, palm-covered shores, the ever-innovative Filipinos impressed their proud barrio priests by creating their own style Christmas trees out of such things as coconut husks and seashells — a tradition that can still be seen across the 7,100-island archipelago.

The Star of Bethlehem also became a beloved local theme, with inventive Filipinos creating star-shaped lanterns called ‘parols’ from bamboo and coloured paper. As impatient as small American boys, Filipinos make certain that their lanterns begin to appear as early as September — everywhere from fancy Manila shopping malls to the humblest thatched-roofed homes on remote atolls.

For many decades now, to support their families and find greater opportunities, Filipinos have sought jobs overseas, often leaving brothers and sisters, sons and daughters and elderly parents behind — perhaps for years. But when these hard-working heroes finally get to return home from jobs in the Middle East, America or Southeast Asia, even if only for a visit, they make good on their promise to “be home for Christmas.”

Therein lies the secret sauce of what makes being in this star-crossed island-nation at Christmas such a blissful experience. Everywhere you roam, from airport arrivals areas to posh Manila hotels, to small island resorts, to restaurants, to ocean-side family barbecues, to Christmas parties, you see families welcoming back mums and dads, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters, husbands and wives. Everywhere you look, there are teary-eyed hugs and kisses, followed by raucous laughter. All the talk is of impending Christmas feasts and beachside BBQ parties. And of the blessing of being able to celebrate together.

Whenever a foreign visitor is spotted, they are warmly welcomed to join this celebration of what is, for millions of Filipinos, in the words of an old Christmas song, “the most wonderful time of year.” And the radiant glistening you see in peoples’ eyes everywhere during a Philippine Christmas more than matches the glistening snow I recall from my boyhood Christmas mornings.

The celebration of Christmas looks and sounds different depending on where you are in the world — but what unites the experience is a communal expression of love, community values and goodwill. What does your Christmas look like this year? Tag your photos @alhausmagazine so that we can share a true reflection of Christmas in its true and varied forms.

About George Tapan: George Tapan is an award-winning Philippine photographer and one of the most respected photographers in Asia-Pacific. His vivid images in the fields of travel, fashion, nature and the environment have appeared in scores of international magazines and websites, including National Geographic, and in various photography books. His work has taken him across Asia to Europe, from the Holy Land to the White House, but he prefers spending his spare time capturing the beauty of his island-homeland.