1984, then, was to be my first Christmas out of England,
actually my first Christmas not spent in the family home, and I hadn't missed Christmas church in my 27
years on Earth.
Alright then. I'd make a real effort to create some kind of festive
feeling. Libya being a strict Islamic
culture, this wouldn't be easy but nonetheless I hunted for a
tree. I know now that there are indeed
conifers growing in north Africa, in Libya even, but I swear there wasn't a
Christmas tree lookalike to be found anywhere in Tripoli. Naturally I didn't imagine I'd find shops
selling them: Fayed's Famous Fir Trees, right?
As it was difficult enough to find simple household items for every-day life,
I knew that was beyond my expectations but I had thought some expatriate somewhere
might sell me a fake fir tree, or even something I could make resemble a fir
tree. Apparently, though, if expats had
made what would surely be a supreme effort to bring a fake tree into the country, they either kept hold of
it until they left for good at which point it would be sold on the black market
for thousands of dollars; or it had to be pried from their cold dead hands like
Charlton Heston's gun.
Honestly, what was I thinking? Crazy, CRAZY, to imagine I might find a
Christmas tree - real or fake - when it was so hard to find even a regular house
plant. The only way to procure a genuine
potted plant, i.e. a Busy Lizzie or a Spider Plant or a Wandering Jew (not
called that in an Arab land, of course) was to go to the above-mentioned house sales of folks
leaving forever in the hope that they'd be selling off their domestic greenery. Single, white females would fight
over a healthy rubber plant much more vigorously than they'd fight over any
single, white male. In acts of desperation,
young female expats (I number myself among them) were inclined to dream up ways
of making potted plants from vegetables.
I grew many a straggly "hanging plant" from a sweet potato in
a jar of water. Of course I grew many
more mosquito-ridden, mold-covered, soggy lumps of waste matter, but seriously,
for the sake of a little greenery, it was often worth it.
Although not famous for my crafty ways, i.e. my ability to
create something out of nothing with my hands, I decided to build a Christmas tree out of paper. As I've mentioned
many times, paper wasn't easy to get hold of but I dug up from somewhere a
couple of sheets of green craft paper and I made myself a tree. When you think that my brother is a graphic
designer and gifted artist, and my sister, a naturally talented sketcher (more
artistic talent in her pinky than I have in my whole being) it's hard to
believe that I could create something so naff.
But there it is. And here's a
picture to prove it. As you see, I
obviously located bits of red paper, yellow paper and shiny paper too, because the
fabulous tree displays a few equally naff decorations (hearts and bells?) and a
star on top. I went all-out on the
creativity and made a silver angel from toilet roll innards and kitchen foil, complete with a
little white net cape to represent its wings. Don't ask where the netting
came from. God...and perhaps the angel...alone know. It looks more like a martian bride.
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| A Very Naff Christmas |
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