Nothing is more wearying than being reminded regularly that we are living in a volitile, dangerous part of the world, where holy soldiers lurk around hidden corners, conspiring to off us at the drop of a hat. It is not the American embassy that is giving us dire warnings, but folks back home. Most exhausting of all is to have well-meaning individuals who have no experience in this part of the world tell us what danger we are in by staying here.
Christmas has brought out more words of caution than usual, as if the birth of the Little Lord Baby Jesus evokes not only joy for the season, but paranoia as well. Friends back home warn us to watch our backs, keep the children close, take different routes in getting to and from work, and to NEVER give out our phone numbers or addresses to strangers. Duh.
Just to put inquiring minds at ease, here is what Christmas looked like here in Al Mawaleh, Muscat, this year. Christmas Eve saw lots of action in the neighborhood with well-wishes from the neighbors who wanted to know what we were doing for the holiday. We received cheery "Happy Christmas"es from many people whom we knew only by face.
The real fun began with the arrival from Sohar of our friends K and G, and Baby H. They arrived bearing dates (because what would a holiday celebration be here without dates?), gifts, and goodwill toward man. In the evening, more friends arrived for an early dinner in order that everyone could make it to church in time for the Christmas Eve service. However, lamb, drinks, and laughs prevailed, and no one made it to church. Ah, well.
We were fortunate that my parents sent "Twas the Night Before Christmas" in order that we would be able to enjoy the annual reading of the tome. We opened the book and were delighted to hear Poppop's voice recorded, reading the story to us as we turned the pages. What's more, he included the usual disgusting deviations from Clement Moore's version, much to the delight of all the children who listened to it.
Christmas morning arrived with the consumption of the traditional saffron rolls (slightly burned of course as tradition dictates), the opening of stockings, and the annual Santa search. Santa DID come, as evidenced by the runner marks and reindeer prints left in the dust of the roof. The prints were deemed authentic by our panel of experts as there were absolutely NO shoeprints or footprints around the Santa marks, which means that the Santa marks could not have been fabricated by parents or other interested parties.
Breakfast was a disappointment as one cannot find chipped beef here, and everyone knows that a Christmas breakfast without chipped beef is not really Christmas at all. Instead we ate beef sausages, eggs with toast, and fruit salad, with a hefty scoop of of moaning and groaning throughout. I know, I know, we all must make sacrifices sometimes, and this was one of those times.
The gift opening segment of the morning was the usual excitement. No one received a pony this year, even though there is plenty of space for one in this house. Nor did we have any camels pop out of boxes. We did end the morning with the traditional scavenger hunts, with everyone finding some big loot at the end. Santa brought us a flat screen TV so now we are almost cool--it's not a very big flat screen, so that's why we are just "almost cool" instead of "totally cool".
As an added bonus, we got to celebrate Boxing Day this year, since we are surrounded by English speakers who go in for such things. Boxing Day involved shopping, beach time, drinking, napping, consumption of leftovers, and movie watching. Apparently, if we had employed a domestic we would have had to give her the day off, along with a Boxing Day bonus.
See, no holy wars, acts of unspeakable violence, or volatility here. We all survived the day and are fatter and happier for that. Merry Christmas to all. Sorry, we have been told that we should be saying, "Happy Christmas to all" from now on as that is the proper way to do things. And well wishes for the New Year, too!
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