Christmas is one of my favourite times of the year, especially here in Dubai. Despite the Hallmark movie association of the festive season being more special, more romantic, more magical when pictured against a snowy backdrop, there is something quite special about Christmas when pitched against the backdrop of the glorious, warm weather of the desert.
Alas, there is one thing we all have in common, no matter where we are in the world celebrating this wonderful season, the question of when the actual season of thoughtfulness should begin is ongoing. When is too soon and is too late?
Growing up, if I remember correctly, our Christmas tree was ‘put up’ about two weeks before the big day. As a very excited child who, for many years, remained entranced by the belief of Santa, this was obviously too late. Thus, since having children of my own, the needle has moved (multiple times if truth be told) considerably. Generally, I think it’s safe to say we settled on 1 December as a respectable date to dust off the fairy lights and shake out the sparkly decorations whilst inviting talk of the Norad Santa tracker and his elves watching over toddler/child behaviour.
Since living in Dubai, I have learned that Filipinos begin to honour the festive season as early as September – the 100-day celebration to D-Day of the 25th.
Others, I know, rush to dust off their trusty artificial Christmas tree from the attic once the Jack O’ Laterns’ flame flickers for the last time.
The commercial Christmas needle is always a movable feast. Currently, about one week before Hallow’een the shops will begin to sow the seed of the next holiday by furtively planting the tinsel, fairy lights and chocolate laden Advent calendars alongside the orange biased array of Hallow’een ghoulish figures and witches’ pointy hats.
Interestingly, and not in any way confined to dune habits, I have heard it said that Christmas officially starts when one sinks into one’s comfy couch in front of a homely, orange fire to watch the movie ‘Love Actually’. I get why. The characters. The actors. The soundtrack. The storyline that touches and intertwines with so many generations. But, as ‘gooey’ as the movie is, the one thing that ‘gets me’ every time is Hugh Grant’s sentiment (as his character of the PM of the UK and in reference to my not so favourite airport) ‘Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion is starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere.’
As an expat of 30 years in various countries, I have lost count of how many times that has been me who has taken that Christmas flight home and arrived, along with hundreds of thousands of others, from all over the world to complete the family jigsaw at this time of the year. It’s special. Overwhelming. Emotional.
Now, the shoe is on the other foot.
On the 10th and the 16th of December respectively, DH and I, like two kids waiting in line to see Santa, headed off at the midnight hour to welcome home DS1 and DD after their first uni term away from home.
It’s official! Christmas in our household now starts when all of my babies are home; when I can say ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ in person and when I can hug them at will! It all comes down to ‘Love’, actually.
Dubai Mummy 