I moved to Newfoundland in 1976 and soon realized it was home. I have since then lived other places for a while but always came back once or twice a year and usually owned a house here. But I shall never be a “true Newfoundlander,” as the song goes, because I was not born here.

That creates an interesting paradox for immigrants as Newfoundlanders think of themselves as very welcoming. And they are. Various refugee groups such as the Syrians and Ukrainians have been almost smothered with kindness. I went to a doctor with an obvious African name and when he first met me he said, “You’re not from here, are you?” 

What elsewhere is often seen as an anti-immigrant or even racist comment is still a norm here. I almost laughed out loud but as I learned later, the doctor is from here, the child of an immigrant doctor. Only someone from here is likely to know my name does not fit. If it were Goulding or Goudie it would be a Newfoundland name. When I give my name orally most choose one of those to write down.

There are a few of us who are come-from-aways, as in the title of the musical, but many more are come back from aways. Newfoundlanders have always left for work but if at all possible they return.

Of course, this is just one example of an intensely insular culture. It is an island — why should it not be insular? Although since 2001 it has been named “Newfoundland and Labrador,” to show in the name that it is one big province. As any Labradorian will tell you never the twain shall meet, name or no name. Newfoundlanders are just too different, even from the few Labradorians who live on their coast.

There are a few of us who are come-from-aways, as in the title of the musical, but many more are come back from aways. Newfoundlanders have always left for work but if at all possible they return. At first just once or twice a year. The house adjoining me is usually an AirBnB, but twice a year the owner returns from Alberta and settles in for a couple of weeks. Then the norm is to retire, early if possible, and enjoy the lifestyle that all that mainland money can pay for. 

Some of you might have heard of Fort McMurray, metropolis of the Alberta oilsands. Today, most Canadians know of it as the focus of debate about fossil fuels, but here it is often called Newfoundland’s richest outport. And neither a boat or cod jigger is needed. I ate lunch in a fish and chips shop and at the end of my meal the young waitress pulled off her apron and said, “Goodbye, boys. I’m off to Fort Mac!”

I hope she can be happy so far from home. The differences are both obvious and subtle. When I first arrived, one of the striking experiences was Christmas, still visible as I write this in December. It starts with mummering or janneying. Practised various ways throughout eastern Newfoundland, it usually presents weird disguises, often cross-dressing, but not like drag but rather like massive women’s underwear hauled on top of overalls. And a mask such as a lace curtain. In that outfit, the mummers would go door to door yelling “Any mummers allowed in?” Then they would enter and dance or perhaps present a short skit. Historically they could be quite disruptive, but today they are usually just a little drunk.

Of course, this is just one example of an intensely insular culture.
It is an island — why should it not be insular?

But there are many Christmas traditions that might surprise some. Another is Old Christmas Day, known in most places as Twelfth Night. It represents the end of the festivities and is a particular day for misrule and parties. When I first arrived many shops and businesses were closed from Christmas to Old Christmas. One friend said to me, “I would never be in shape to work anyway.”

Things have settled down a bit but many still feel it is too “Canadian” to settle back into the normal grind before January 6th.

Back to all those Newfoundlanders who live on the mainland or “upalong.” Many prove that Newfoundland’s uniqueness can be just as unique if exported. Most here get a head start on Christmas with Tibb’s Eve on December 23rd. And there is at least one Tibb’s Eve party that I know of at a winery in Prince Edward County. And even in Calgary.

But to get that proper Newfoundland Christmas you will need to come here. And if you do you can see the Christmas tree I always put on the roof of my three storey rowhouse. It is my slight gesture to the tradition of putting a tree at the top of the mast on a ship. Even a come-from-away like me has to keep the old ways going. Sometimes in new ways.

Terry Goldie writes from St. John’s, Newfoundland.