Tradition dictates that on the evening of Sinterklaas’ arrival, children must put a shoe in front of the fireplace with a carrot or hay as a treat for Sinterklaas’ white horse. The next morning, they’ll find a present in their shoes from Sinterklaas.

Here comes the man himself… after the jump!

Amsterdam’s Sinterklaas was just perfect. He looks gentle, jolly and regal all at the same time. I was surprised to see that Sint is actually… a Catholic bishop. For a nation that fought tooth and nail to kick out the Spanish, the Dutch sure didn’t want to give this Catholic up.

Just as Santa has his elves, Sinterklaas has his own helper, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete). At the parade, there were dozens of Zwarte Pieten. They were everywhere: juggling, singing, dancing, rollerblading, handing out fistfuls of sweets, receiving letters for Sinterklaas.

I know. Blackface, right? These days it’s hard to mention Zwarte Piet without getting into a political discussion, especially if you hang out with mostly non-Dutchies like I do. As a concession to being politically correct, the origin story of Zwarte Piet has shifted over the years. From being Sint’s slave, to a freed slave who was so grateful to Sint that he stayed, today’s Zwarte Piet is simply black from chimney soot—you know, the chimneys his gift-giving work requires him to slip in and out of.

But I don’t think the Dutch will ever get rid of Zwarte Piet. And to me, that’s okay. I guess being from a Kafkaesque country where many things don’t make complete sense, I have some compassion (if you could call it that) for traditions that aren’t completely PC. If something is so ingrained in the fabric of a culture, what would happen if you pulled it out? What would you replace it with, what would you be ripping it out for, and would it be worth it?

Maybe it’s because I just think of it all as one big Ati-atihan in medieval garb. Or maybe it’s because Zwarte Piet bribed me with these tiny gingerbread treats called kruidnoten (“spice nuts”). Yes, my political allegiance can be bought with cookies.

And you should have seen (and heard!) the children. If I had a Euro for every tiny shout of “Piet! Piet!” I heard that day, or every little happy, soot-blackened face I saw, I would be a rich woman. Kids love Zwarte Piet. They love him so much they even dress up like him.

Even the smallest ones.

Zwarte Piet also has a special task for naughty children. Are you ready for this? He stuffs bad boys and girls into his big jute sack and takes them away to… Spain.

Dear Sinterklaas,
I’ve been a bad, bad girl. Where do I sign up for my trip to Spain?
Love,
Currystrumpet