Christmas in Colombia does not arrive quietly. It announces itself early, with the scent of cinnamon and panela simmering in kitchens, the crackle of fireworks in neighborhood streets, and the steady murmur of voices gathering night after night for the novenas. Long before December 24, the country has already slipped into celebration, moving to a rhythm that blends devotion, family ritual, and an unmistakable sense of joy.
At the heart of the season is the Novena de Aguinaldos, a tradition that dates back to the late 18th century. For nine consecutive nights, families, neighbors, and coworkers gather to recreate the journey of Mary and Joseph in the days before the birth of Christ. Prayers are recited, verses are shared, and villancicos are sung—sometimes reverently, sometimes joyfully out of tune. Children wait impatiently for the final amen, knowing it signals the arrival of food. In Colombia, faith rarely excludes festivity. The novenas are as much about togetherness as they are about devotion, turning living rooms, patios, and office corridors into temporary sanctuaries.
Food anchors the ritual. No Colombian Christmas feels complete without natilla, a custard-like dessert thickened with cornstarch and scented with cinnamon and clove, its sweetness both comforting and familiar. Alongside it appear buñuelos: golden, perfectly round fritters made with fresh cheese, crisp on the outside and soft within. Served warm, they are irresistible—often eaten standing up, mid-conversation, as laughter spills across the room. In some regions, tamales emerge at dawn on Christmas Eve; in others, lechona, empanadas, or slow-cooked meats dominate the table.
Each dish make geography a tradition.
Beyond the home, Colombia’s towns and cities transform through light. Christmas illumination here is not simply decorative—it is theatrical. Medellín’s famed alumbrados turn the Medellín River into a glowing corridor of color and imagination, drawing visitors from across the country and beyond. Smaller towns respond with equal enthusiasm. In places like Villa de Leyva, Tunja, Salento, and countless Andean plazas, lights climb church façades, trace colonial balconies, and spill into public squares where families stroll late into the night.
December also reveals a quieter layer of symbolism written into Colombia’s geography itself. Across the country, towns bear names drawn directly from the Bible—Beléncito in Boyacá, Jerusalén in Cundinamarca, Nazareth in Caldas, El Nilo in Cundinamarca, Jericó in Antioquia. During Christmas, these names seem to awaken. Nativity scenes placed in public squares take on an almost literal resonance, as if the story of the birth of Christ has crossed oceans and centuries to settle, improbably and beautifully, in the Andes.
In these plazas, the pesebre becomes more than decoration. Beneath glowing stars and paper lanterns, surrounded by poinsettias and strings of lights, it turns into a communal gathering point. Children pose for photographs beside the figures of Mary and Joseph. Street vendors sell hot chocolate, obleas layered with arequipe, and freshly fried buñuelos. Grandparents pause to retell the story to a new generation. When a manger sits in the main square of Belén, or a star glows above a church in Jericó, the boundary between scripture and everyday life gently dissolves.
What ultimately defines Christmas in Colombia is its collective warmth. In a country shaped by contrasts – urban and rural, abundance and scarcity – the holidays create a rare moment of shared ritual. Doors open more easily. Invitations multiply. The novena moves fluidly from one home to another, softening social boundaries, if only temporarily. Even those who do not consider themselves religious often take part, drawn by memory, music, and the pull of belonging.
On Christmas Eve, after the final novena, families gather for la Nochebuena. Some attend midnight mass; others remain at home as fireworks light the sky and music carries into the early hours. Christmas Day arrives slowly, with late breakfasts, reheated leftovers, and the quiet satisfaction of having reached the end of something carefully prepared.
In Colombia, Christmas is not a single night or a single meal. It is nine evenings of prayer and laughter, towns shimmering under festive lights, and fireworks that keep the dogs barking all night. It is a season that insists on being shared – bright, noisy, sweet, and unmistakably alive.
A Simple Colombian Buñuelo Recipe
Ingredients
- 1 cup grated fresh cheese (queso costeño or queso campesino criollo, well-drained)
- ½ cup cornstarch (maicena)
- ¼ cup tapioca starch (or cassava starch)
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 egg
- 1–2 tablespoons milk (as needed)
- A pinch of sugar
- Vegetable oil for frying
Method
- In a bowl, mix the grated cheese, cornstarch, tapioca starch, baking powder, and sugar.
- Add the egg and mix gently. Gradually add milk until a smooth, pliable dough forms.
- Shape the dough into small balls, about the size of a walnut.
- Heat oil over medium-low heat. Fry the buñuelos slowly, turning them so they cook evenly and puff into golden spheres.
- Remove when crisp and evenly browned. Drain on paper towels and serve warm.
Best enjoyed during a novena, shared with family, and eaten before they cool—because in Colombia, buñuelos rarely last long.
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