See, There IS an Omani Christmas

Some of our well-meaning but more neurotic friends get extra neurotic at this time of year because it is Christmas and, well, this is not considered by many as a Christmas kind of place. And, although we do have Christmas church services and masses that run through the season at the Church of Oman, it seemingly does not exactly meet the Christmas criteria laid out by Bing Crosby et al. many a moon ago. We are missing the snow, the mistletoe, folks wrapped up like Eskimos, blazing fireplaces, the pink cheeks, and the fresh pine trees that shed needles all over the living room.

However, take heart! What we do have is the other stuff that goes with Christmas.

We have the Christmas displays in the hyper malls which feature an international assortment of chocolates, advent calendars, made-in-China ornaments, plastic Christmas trees, and tinsel galore.

Okay, so the color scheme is a bit off--pink Christmas anyone?--and last I checked, Frosted Flakes were not really considered Christmas fare, but we must fill in the gaps with something, and why shouldn't that be a tooth-rotter?

What the stores do very well is start up with this Christmas thing well ahead of the event. Tony was outraged this year when the Christmas stuff came rolling out before the Thanksgiving turkeys even had finished flying out of the Al Fair deep freezers. “What is the world coming to?” he complained, “When Christmas starts before Thanksgiving is over?” 

Really? What is the world coming to when people thousands of miles from the US and not even of the US know that Thanksgiving is even happening?

I swear.

We have the pop-up Christmas bazaars that have been surfacing with increasing frequency in the expat enclaves of Muscat. This year, Tehva’s Girl Guides troop swore to honor and protect the Queen even at Christmas and then carted their loads of crafts to sell poolside in a bazaar at a gated community which houses primarily British military families. The Brownies walked away with nearly 160 Omani riyal (about $400 US), all grossed through the sale of clothes pin reindeer ornaments and flip notebooks.   

Durn.

The church cranked the A/C to the max this year, putting everyone in the Christmas spirit, and  threw their own bazaar complete with choral music, orchestral pieces, overpriced coffee and snacks, and a stunning raffle away from which we walked with...nothing. 

The church bazaar

Christmas concerting for the church bazaar. None of these belong to me. As a matter of fact I have no pictures of my children performing that day because this seems to be my lot in life. Missing the big stuff is the name of my game lately.

We also know it is Christmas because every organization and high-end hotel here on God’s brown earth hosts a Christmas dinner, Christmas party, Christmas concert, Christmas play, or Christmas event of some sort.

Check this out and keep in mind that the exchange rate is $2.50 = 1 OR. Don't let the sticker shock bowl you over.

Even our own three children have been swept away in the Christmas madness, participating in Christmas caroling, Jesus birthday parties, Advent-themed beach barbecues, Christmas movies, and gift swaps.

Because we are too poor to attend those Christmas dinners at the swank hotels (and because we spent all of our money on that church bazaar raffle), we instead threw our annual cookie exchange, which was much more fun than hanging at the Hyatt. Except at the Hyatt they have a chocolate fountain, which is pretty fun.

 Nancy, Katrina, Claude, Lasandika, and Heather, clearly swept away by Christmas!

And we also know it is Christmas because it is the season in which we trek out into the desert with 70 of our closest friends and attend the Hash House Harriers Christmas feast, which includes a table decorating contest, a festive Ho-Ho run, and meal complete with a Yule log, professionally catered by Oman Air.

No, this is not our table, although that might be our car in the background

This is not our table, either...we actually forgot to bring a table this year and so had a very Bedouin Christmas by sitting on a borrowed mat adorned with a half dozen also-borrowed votive candles

So see, we do have Christmas in the desert! Be not afraid.