On the Thirteenth Day of Advent: Rain in Tripoli and Band Aid 1984

The most memorable part of Christmas 1984 for me was Band Aid and the song, "Do They Know It's Christmas?"    http://youtu.be/to652Gy9blI


Although I'd been determined to do so, I eventually chose not to stay in Tripoli over Christmas.  The inability to find decent food (let alone Christmas food), coupled with appalling weather -- rain ten days straight, if memory serves, which flooded the already terrible roads and isolated me more than usual from my friends -- finished me off.  At the last minute, I flew back to England to spend the season with my family.

All I heard about, from my arrival in London until my departure a week later, was the third-world horror that was Ethiopia -- I'd never seen such poverty and devastation -- and the well-intentioned, first-world song designed to alleviate it.  It was also the first time I witnessed what can happen when large groups gather to do good.  A spark of "charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence" was ignited in me during what was a rather self-pitying time in my life, reminding me that a sure-fire way to stop feeling sorry for oneself is to focus one's attention on someone else's needs.  Apologies if that sounds self-righteous but it's how it was.  What I thought of as "my miserable Christmas" couldn't compare with the miseries of others.  I was a bit old at twenty seven to need reminding but I'm glad the spark was lit.  Even now, I readily admit that more often than not I need a "mighty fire" lit under my arse before I actually get off it (my arse, that is), but my intentions are good, even if my personal road to hell is paved with them.

Band Aid was a charity super-group featuring leading British/Irish musicians and recording artists.  It was founded in 1984 by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure to raise money for anti-poverty efforts in Ethiopia by releasing the song, "Do They Know It's Christmas?"  for the Christmas market that year. On 25 November 1984, the song was recorded at Sarm West Studios in Notting Hill, London, and released in the UK four days later. The single surpassed the hopes of the producers to become the Christmas number one on that release. Two subsequent re-recordings to raise further money for charity also topped the charts. The original was produced by Midge Ure.  (Wikipedia)

On the Twelfth Day of Advent: "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus"

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

On the Eleventh Day of Advent: Snow!

When temperatures flirt around the freezing mark in Austin, Texas, it's a big deal.  It's headline news.  Brits tend to laugh at this as, in their homeland, it's flirtin' around flippin' freezin' for much of the winter.

For British kids, however, snow on Christmas Day is a big deal.  Just once in the twenty-seven Christmases I spent in the UK, we woke up to snow on the day itself -- in 1962.  We couldn't understand the grown-ups' general lack of enthusiasm but then we didn't have to shovel the front steps or grit the streets.  All we knew was that our dreams had come true.  God, Father Christmas, and the baby Jesus had conspired to bring about perfect winter weather for this nearly-five and nearly-six year-old.  

I don't seem to have my sister's obvious glee but that's perhaps on account of my bad hair-cut.

Sis and me in the snow

On the Tenth Day of Advent: Long, Long Ago

ANON has written many exquisite poems.  Here's one of my favorites, taken from "The Family Read-Aloud CHRISTMAS TREASURY" (Alice Low and Marc Brown)

Winds through the olive trees
Softly did blow,
Round little Bethlehem
Long, Long ago.

Sheep on the hillside lay
Whiter than snow;
Shepherds were watching them,
Long, long ago.

Then from the happy sky,
Angels bent low,
Singing their songs of joy,
Long, Long ago.

For in a manger bed,
Cradled we know,
Christ came to Bethlehem,
Long, Long ago.

Anonymous

On the Ninth Day of Christmas: Arabian Nights!

Most single expatriates in Dubai celebrated Christmas Day with their friends in apartments or villas.  My own favorite took place in a true Middle Eastern house with a large, central, stone-paved courtyard sheltered by willowy palm trees.  All the rooms, including the kitchen, went off the central courtyard.  In the corners sat enormous pots with ficus trees and bright pink bougainvillea plants, still blooming in December and growing up the inside walls , their trunks so thick you could see how old were the original plants.  

It was a typically warm December so a dining table set for twelve had been established outdoors in the middle of the courtyard.  The Arab setting was so perfect, you could almost picture the Scheherazade and the Sultan sitting down to partake in a spectacular feast with marvelous stories to follow.  This image was slightly distorted by the Christmas crackers on each dinner plate, and the smell of the traditional English turkey dinner filling the air.  Also somewhat incongruous was the twinkling, colorfully decorated Douglas fir in the corner of the yard beside the bougainvillea.  All the same, this was a beautiful blend of European expatriate and local Arab themes.  When we twelve sat down to a multicultural dinner of turkey, sage and onion stuffing, roast potatoes and Brussels sprouts, combined with local vegetables, cous-cous and Persian salads, I was moved by an almost overwhelming feeling of joy – of community and sharing and love. It probably looked absurd: singing English Christmas carols, paper hats on our heads, while palm fronds waved above us and the Islamic call to prayer blared out from the mosques...but that's when I reminded myself that I was closer to the actual birthplace of Jesus right here under these shimmering stars than I’d ever been in my life.

Waxing so poetic here, I make the whole day sound wistful, sentimental.  Not at all!  Crazy cocktails were devised; Australian boxed wine was supped, and though I'm not a Scotch drinker, I "tested" several of those that were available.  Family stories and saucy jokes were told.  Ridiculous presents were exchanged then played with throughout the afternoon, proving that grown-ups everywhere revert to childhood once Santa has been to town.

Honestly though, for all the fun and merriment, what I remember most is the sight of the "table of plenty," that moment of connection, and a lasting sense of being included in a home away from home.  And the scotch.

 

On the Eighth Day of Advent: The Twelve Days of Christmas

THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is an English Christmas carol, first published in 1780.
No Christmas would be complete without it!




Here's a fine version by The Chipmunks:
http://youtu.be/Q8Jbi-BBp3c

On the first day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.

On the second day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the third day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming,
Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping,
Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five golden rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree! 

On the Seventh Day of Advent: Festive Vittels, England, c. 1964

A short post today because the photo says it all.  

Life was simpler back in the early 1960s.  Everything connected with Christmas is on top of, alongside, or in front of the radiogram. 

• Christmas Tree - check
• Creche with the Angel Gabriel on top - check
• Fruit (including rare oranges and bananas) - check
• Nuts with nutcracker - check
• Selection of drinks including sherry and two bottles of beer, and a tray of all-purpose glasses at the ready - check
• Fern wallpaper - check

There should be a tin of Quality Street and/or Roses confectionery somewhere -- I wonder if the biblical birth scene is on top of the chocs; there's definitely a box beneath the log cabin.  I can't see the little wooden box of EatMe dates, dates being the one concession to the actual birth place of the baby Jesus.  I think those are little bottles of orange juice but if so, where's the gin?  Orange juice is of no use without gin.  This was before the days of wine-drinking, at least in our house.  We always had Dubonnet and Schweppes bitter lemon to offer guests but it seems to be MIA -- maybe Christmas Eve was a bit jollier after the children went to bed, or maybe Santa was less of a milk and cookies man than we thought!  I believe that's a bottle of Scotch whisky lurking behind the cheap sherry -- that would be for Dad.  The unopened Bristol Cream Sherry would be for Mum.  There's "Tizer" for my brother and sister and me.  That would be our Christmas dinner treat. 

I suppose the gifts are out of sight under the tree.  Surely that one wrapped parcel on the chair can't be the only gift! 

It's quite possible that the Cratchits had more for their Christmas Day celebrations than this but "Be it ever so humble," this little corner of our household brought more joy than you can possibly imagine. 

Christmas Vittels in the Nason Household