Novena de Navidad Colombia: Why December 16 Changes Everything

Novena de Navidad Colombia: Why December 16 Changes Everything

If you’ve ever been in a Colombian city at 7:00 PM on a random Tuesday in mid-December, you’ve heard it. The rattling of tin tambourines. The smell of frying dough. The sound of fifty people crammed into a living room screaming "¡Ven, ven, ven!" at the top of their lungs. This is the Novena de Navidad Colombia, and honestly, it’s less of a religious service and more of a national marathon of social stamina.

It starts on December 16. It ends on the 24th. Nine days of intense, loud, and carb-heavy tradition.

While other countries might have quiet Advent calendars or the occasional carol service, Colombia turns the lead-up to Christmas into a nightly neighborhood-wide event. You’ll see it in posh apartments in North Bogotá and in the smallest pueblos in Antioquia. It’s unavoidable. It’s also deeply misunderstood by outsiders who think it’s just a prayer group. It’s not. It’s the glue that holds Colombian social life together for the last two weeks of the year.

The Weird History Behind the Prayers

Most people think the Novena is some ancient Spanish ritual brought over by the Conquistadors. Not quite. The actual text most Colombians recite—the one with the flowery, slightly archaic language—was written in the 18th century by a Franciscan friar named Fernando de Jesús Larrea. He was born in Quito, but he wrote the Novena para el tiempo de Navidad at the request of Clemencia de Gertrudis Pizarro, a lady from Bogotá.

Basically, a monk and a socialite created the biggest cultural phenomenon in Colombian history.

Later, in the late 1800s, a nun named Mother María Ignacia (born Bertilda Samper Acosta) decided the prose was a bit too dry. She added the "Gozos." These are the couplets or "joys" that act as the chorus. If you’ve ever wondered why the language sounds so formal—lots of "¡Oh sapientísima Sabiduría!"—it’s because you’re reading 250-year-old Spanish poetry.

It’s old. It’s clunky. And yet, every five-year-old in Medellín knows the words by heart.

What Actually Happens Every Night?

Structure? Sort of. Chaos? Mostly.

The Novena de Navidad Colombia follows a specific order of prayers: the Prayer for Every Day, the Prayer to the Blessed Virgin, the Prayer to Saint Joseph, the Considerations of the Day, the Gozos, and the Prayer to the Infant Jesus. But that’s just the "official" part.

The real soul of the night is the "Villancicos." These are the Christmas carols. In Colombia, these aren't the slow, melancholic hymns you hear in a cathedral in London. These are rhythmic, percussion-heavy songs like Tutaina, Los Peces en el Río, and Hacia Belén va una Burra.

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Everyone grabs an instrument. If you don't have a pandereta (tambourine) or a guacharaca, you grab a cheese grater and a fork. Seriously. You’ll see grandmothers and teenagers alike aggressively scraping metal to the beat of "Tu-tai-na-tu-tai-na." It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s beautiful.

The Food: The Real Reason People Show Up

Let’s be real. If you host a Novena and you don’t serve food, you’re basically committing a social crime. The menu is non-negotiable.

  • Buñuelos: These are fried dough balls made with cornstarch and a specific type of salty cheese (costeño). They should be crispy on the outside and airy on the inside.
  • Natilla: A firm, custard-like dessert. Traditionally made by stirring milk, panela (raw cane sugar), and cinnamon for hours. In modern cities, people use the box mix, but don't tell their grandmothers that.
  • Ho ho ho (The Hojuelas): Thin, fried strips of dough dusted with sugar.

You’ll see these served on plastic plates in offices, malls, and garages. By day six, you’re usually sick of them. By day nine, you’re wondering how you’ll survive until next December without a warm buñuelo.

The Social Dynamics of the Novena

In the corporate world, the Novena de Navidad Colombia is a whole different beast. Companies set aside an hour every afternoon. Production stops. The CEO and the janitor stand in a circle. They read the prayers. They eat the snacks. It’s a leveling of the social hierarchy that you don't really see at any other time of year.

In neighborhoods, the "Novena de Cuadra" is where the real action is. Neighbors take turns hosting on their porch or in the middle of the street. It’s a way of checking in. You find out who got a new car, whose kid is back from college, and who still hasn't fixed their leaky roof.

It’s community policing via carols and custard.

Is it still religious?

Yes and no. Colombia is a predominantly Catholic country, but for many young people, the Novena has become more of a secular cultural marker. You’ll see atheists reciting the "Prayer to Saint Joseph" simply because it’s what you do. It’s like Thanksgiving in the US—the origins are specific, but the practice is universal.

However, don't underestimate the devotion. In many households, the Pesebre (the Nativity scene) is the centerpiece of the home. These aren't just three figurines in a stable. These are massive, room-filling landscapes with running water, moss, miniature towns, and hundreds of animals. The Novena happens in front of this elaborate setup.

Why it Ranks as a Unique Global Tradition

If you look at how Google searches for "Christmas traditions" spike in December, the Novena is a massive outlier for South America.

While Ecuador and Venezuela have versions of the Novena, the Colombian iteration is particularly intense because of the music and the specific "Gozos." It’s a multi-sensory experience. You have the visual of the Pesebre, the smell of the buñuelos, the tactile feeling of the guacharaca, and the auditory wall of sound from the singing.

It’s also surprisingly organized for something that feels so chaotic. There are apps for it now. Instead of passing around a battered paper booklet, everyone pulls out their iPhones and scrolls through the "Oración para todos los días." It’s the 18th century meeting 5G.

The "Novena de Aguinaldos" vs. "Novena de Navidad"

You’ll hear both terms. Technically, Aguinaldos refers to the small gifts or the games played during this time. There’s a whole set of "Juegos de Aguinaldos" that happen alongside the prayers:

  1. El Sí y el No: You can't say the word "yes" or "no" (depending on the rule) to the person you're playing with.
  2. Dar y no recibir: You can't take anything directly from the hands of your opponent.
  3. Pajita en boca: You must always have a toothpick or straw in your mouth when your opponent sees you.

These games are played for small bets or just for bragging rights. They add a layer of playful tension to the nine days. It makes the Novena de Navidad Colombia feel like a season-long festival rather than a one-off holiday.

Common Mistakes Outsiders Make

If you’re invited to a Novena, don't just stand there awkwardly.

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First, try to sing. It doesn't matter if you’re off-key; volume is more important than pitch in a Colombian living room. Second, don't eat all the buñuelos at once—they’re heavier than they look. Third, understand that the "start time" is a suggestion. If the invitation says 7:00 PM, the first prayer probably won't start until 7:45 PM.

Also, the "Consideration" of the day is often read by the youngest person who can read fluently. It’s a rite of passage. If you’re a guest, you might be asked to read a section. Just breathe and try to pronounce the "v" and "b" correctly.

The Logistics of Hosting

Hosting a Novena is a logistical nightmare that Colombians somehow turn into a party. You need enough chairs for twenty cousins. You need a sound system that can handle "Mi Burrito Sabanero" at max volume. You need a constant supply of hot chocolate or coffee.

Actually, in many regions, the drink of choice is Aguardiente. Because nothing says "waiting for the birth of Jesus" like a shot of anise-flavored liquor with your neighbor.

It’s this mix of the sacred and the profane that makes it so authentically Colombian. It’s not a curated, Instagram-perfect holiday. It’s sweaty, it’s loud, it’s crowded, and it’s usually 20 degrees warmer than it should be because of all the bodies in the room.

Why This Tradition Survives

In an era of Netflix and globalized culture, the Novena should be dead. It’s long. It’s repetitive. The text is old-fashioned.

But it survives because it’s the one time of year when people are forced to be in the same room without a screen (mostly). It’s a forced pause. For nine nights, you have to look at your family and your neighbors. You have to share a meal. You have to sing the same songs your great-grandfather sang.

There’s a deep psychological comfort in that repetition.

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How to Prepare for Your Own Novena

If you want to experience the Novena de Navidad Colombia properly, you need to do more than just buy a bag of frozen dough.

  • Get the right book: Look for the "Librito de la Novena." It’s usually a small, cheaply printed pamphlet with a cartoon of the Nativity on the cover.
  • Source your cheese: You cannot make real buñuelos with mozzarella. You need something dry and salty. If you're outside Colombia, look for "Queijo Coalho" or a very dry Feta mixed with cornstarch.
  • Practice the Gozos: Learn the "Ven a nuestras almas" melody. It’s the hook of the whole nine days.
  • Manage your energy: It’s a nine-day sprint. Don't go too hard on night one, or you'll be exhausted by the time the Misa de Gallo (Midnight Mass) rolls around on the 24th.

The real magic happens on the ninth day. December 24th is the climax. The prayers are finished, the Baby Jesus is finally "placed" in the manger, and the party shifts from a religious gathering into a full-blown Christmas celebration that usually lasts until 4:00 AM.

The Novena isn't just a countdown. It’s a build-up of collective energy. By the time you hit Christmas Eve, the community has been eating, singing, and praying together for over a week. The social bonds are tight. The kids are vibrating with excitement. The adults are three buñuelos away from a food coma.

It’s Colombia at its most authentic: loud, hospitable, and deeply rooted in a shared history that refuses to be forgotten.


Next Steps for Your Colombian Christmas

  • Download a Novena App: Search for "Novena de Aguinaldos" on the App Store or Google Play to follow the daily prayers and audio carols.
  • Find a Local Panadería: If you aren't up for cooking, locate a Colombian bakery nearby to order fresh natilla and buñuelos at least two days in advance; they sell out fast on the 16th.
  • Organize a "Cuadra" Event: If you have Colombian neighbors, suggest a shared Novena night where everyone brings one dish, ensuring the tradition stays communal rather than private.