It's that time of year again, when, just for my own entertainment, I go into my local supermarket and ask for Paxo stuffing, and have to explain in detail what it is, only to be greeted with at worst, abject horror and expressions that seem to say: "You want to do what to a roast turkey? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you some kind of pervert?" Or at best, abject disinterest, and being told: "This is for Christmas? Yes? Christmas section is that way," and being sent off to the festive deals aisle, packed with such Christmassy festive treats as Doritos, obscure brand sanitary towels and washing powder, fruit juice, Halloween-themed treats and row after row of sweets and chocolates.
I am well aware that Paxo stuffing was considered pretty naff even the best part of a decade ago when we left the UK, and I seem to remember there was some kind of discussion about stuffing poultry being a severe food poisoning risk so most people just cook the stuff separately now, but I have developed a curious nostalgic affection for it in my time living away from home.
I have been a bit facetious above, and stuffing is, of course, available in Dubai, particularly in the British-leaning supermarkets, but you have to be quick before it sells out. I have learned a lesson about not buying marzipan early enough this year which has meant, horror of horrors, that I have foregone royal icing and my annual sieving icing sugar-related Christmas cake rage for fondant icing.
Dubai is not a bad place to be for Christmas. A lot of people leave for the holidays, but that's not really an option for us, as Him Indoors is in the "Grape" business, meaning it is his busiest time of year. We could go without him, which seems a bit mean, or go on a seven-hour flight and brave the UK traffic to the East Midlands for a day or two, before setting off back again, which I think we can all agree would be a giant ballache with two small children in tow.
So we stay. There are things I miss about Christmas at home. The mad, hysterical build up to the festive season in my homeland seems somewhat endearing now, as does the cosy feeling brought about by cold weather, frost and snow, even if a white Christmas is far from the norm in Dear Old Blighty. And I miss convivial celebrations with family and old friends. I also miss the way everything shuts down for Christmas, and you have no choice but to hang around complaining about how terrible the Christmas TV is this year, eating so much leftover turkey you develop poultry-scented sweat, as well as 75 mince pies and four tins of Quality Street.
I realise my version of Christmas seems a little dated with the advent of Netflix and so on, but LoveFilm.com was still a thing when we moved here. The shutting down does not really happen in Dubai, you see. The Government offices close for public holidays which are of course based around Islamic festivals, but even those festivals see Dubai slow down, but certainly not stop.
Christmas is emphatically not forbidden in Dubai and seems to get less so every year. There is plenty of Christmas about. Trees and festive displays in the shopping malls, wreaths on doors, shops stuffed with gifts and Christmas food and blaring Christmas music, and seasonal advertising in the newspapers, on the radio, and on TV. Hotels and restaurants are full of festive offerings and cheesy festive tunes. Quite honestly, there is plenty of Christmas because Christmas is big business, and there is one thing this town loves, it is business. No one has a problem with Christmas, even the locals, who can be spotted from time to time happily putting Christmas decorations into their trolleys in various shops.
I also enjoy being in the Middle East for Christmas in other respects. This is a potential barrel of vipers to open up, considering the state we are talking about here, but we are 1200 miles from Bethlehem, as opposed to the 3400 we would be, were we back in London. It is a long time since I darkened the door of a church, but being in a sand-filled desert, which although you have to drive 20 minutes to get to it from the built-up areas of the city, is a much more similar environment to the one Mary and Joseph journeyed through than the UK, which makes me feel a little bit closer to where it all began. Did I mention there is a Mary, Mother of Jesus, mosque in Abu Dhabi? And yes, there are churches, a big Roman Catholic one next to DB1's school, and various others, including several of different dominations down at Jebel Ali.
All in all, there is no way in which I feel I have to be quiet about Christmas, or not tell people I am celebrating. Me and my quaint little winter festival ways are more than accepted here, which makes what has been happening in my dear old homeland, and the talk of growing intolerance there over the past few years, all the more sad. I'm not going to get into Brexit, except to say that I think most of us Remainers have learned our lesson about boiling the Leave vote down to the single issue of immigration by now, and believe me, this country should be the last place to throw stones about such things, as there is racism in its most virulent forms here, but what I suppose I am saying is that although I am far from home in a dusty, hot, overheated climate, I am allowed to feel at home here, and that is something I am so, so grateful for, particularly when you consider how many people are displaced in the world right now.
So, what are we doing for Christmas this year? Well, this year, after being bitten on the boobs by a baby for the substantial part of the night, and having her sit on my head from about 2-4am saying "bah", I will be woken probably around 5am by a ridiculously over-excited four year old who will open her stocking presents on our bed as Him Indoors and I blearily open some baby snacks and a tangerine (DB2's favourite food) so the baby can play with the wrapping paper and suck on tangerine segments.
Then we will all head to the lounge where we will try and fail to convince DB1 to eat some bacon sandwiches for breakfast (yes, you can get bacon here, albeit ludicrously over priced, but it's one of my Christmas traditions) as she will have already scoffed at least one chocolate Santa and half a ton of chocolate coins while Him Indoors and I mainline coffee before ill advisedly switching to alcohol at an inappropriately early stage in the day. Then there will be an orgy of consumerism based unwrapping, as DB1 opens the several million almost entirely Disney princess-themed toys she has expressed an interest in over the past few months, and then we will spend the day playing with her and the baby in between haphazardly attempting to prepare the Christmas lunch ingredients that we have assembled over the past week, over 19 or so trips to the supermarket, as we keep forgetting things due to having basically no brains at all due to sleep deprivation. We are having a chicken as turkey seemed to be taking it a bit far since one of us is only 11 months old.
It will be a late lunch, probably around 4, as the day will be punctuated with DB1 being taken to the park outside our building to play with toys and try to burn off some of the chocolate-based energy, and then we will probably collapse in front of the Muppet Christmas Carol after dinner, and then hopefully put the kids to bed, and then I will most likely be asleep by around 8pm in front of another festive film, which I will see about the first 10 minutes of before I pass out.
Other options for Christmas Day are a festive brunch - which can be a tremendous fun, we went to a fantastic one with friends one year pre-kids, and it was the most decadent thing, eating roast turkey in the sunshine soaked in fizz and listening to the band playing Christmas music. But perhaps not so much with kids, as even the family-friendly ones tend to be super overcrowded and the food therefore somewhat less than top notch, which you don't notice when you are a bottle or two of fizz down, but seems less forgiveable when you have festive-hyped children in tow.
Or, there's that ultimate Dubai trick, getting a takeaway turkey delivered to your door, which sounds hopelessly overindulgent, but honestly, by the time you factor in the cost of all your imported ingredients, it is no more expensive than cooking for yourself.
I know it has been a rough year politically for my homeland, after three previous rough ones, so I think a lot of you will be feeling happy to say goodbye to 2019. Whatever you are doing, and where ever you are doing it, including those of you who are on the other side of what currently appears to be an unassailable divide, I wish you a Happy Winterval! I am joking, of course. Merry Christmas, you bunch of lovely b**tards.
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| DB1 with our Christmas tree. It's lucky there is no problem with Christmas here because she tells everyone we meet about our tree and how she decorated it. |
I have been a bit facetious above, and stuffing is, of course, available in Dubai, particularly in the British-leaning supermarkets, but you have to be quick before it sells out. I have learned a lesson about not buying marzipan early enough this year which has meant, horror of horrors, that I have foregone royal icing and my annual sieving icing sugar-related Christmas cake rage for fondant icing.
Dubai is not a bad place to be for Christmas. A lot of people leave for the holidays, but that's not really an option for us, as Him Indoors is in the "Grape" business, meaning it is his busiest time of year. We could go without him, which seems a bit mean, or go on a seven-hour flight and brave the UK traffic to the East Midlands for a day or two, before setting off back again, which I think we can all agree would be a giant ballache with two small children in tow.
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| Decorations in City Centre Mirdif |
Things I don't miss are horrendous, wet, cold or icy traffic-clogged drives to visit family, getting some horrendous 'flu bug which seems far worse when you have to go out in the cold, and also the prospect of paying well over the odds for a festive season flight, and then being marooned at an airport on the way back for 24 hours or more because there has been a three flakes of snow or a puff of wind. There is also the reason I wanted to leave the UK in the first place - the short, grey skied days, when it starts to get dark at 3pm, and being chronically deprived of Vitamin D.
I know plenty of people who leave the Dubai for the festive season every year, and I think this it is a mistake to not spend at least one Christmas here, as you get the best of the weather in December. The temperature can still climb to the early 30s in the middle of the day, but you get cool mornings and evenings, and usually the mercury doesn't trouble 25C too much, which is basically a fine British summer day. We get rain, we get breezes, we get grey clouds, we go out in summer clothes with a light scarf or cardigan, rather than several layers. Although the longer we live here, the harder temperatures below 15C are to cope with.
Occasionally, when I talk to people back home about what it is like living here, people assume that Christmas is harem, or forbidden, because the dominant religion is Islam. Questions about whether it's allowed are one of the things most people ask me about living here, other than, "do you have to wear a burkha?" (No) "Can you drive there?" (That's Saudi Arabia you're thinking of, and yes) And "are you allowed to drink alcohol there?" (Yes).
I thought about the perception that Christmas wouldn't be allowed when I was dropping DB1 off at school on the day of her end of term party and I saw another mum, who was wearing hijab, dropping off her two sons, who were wearing Santa hats. DB1's last week at school was packed with Christmas stuff; letters to Santa, festive games, party clothes, treats, an optional church service in the neighbouring church and so on, and she has also been to visit Santa to tell him what she wants for Christmas.
I know plenty of people who leave the Dubai for the festive season every year, and I think this it is a mistake to not spend at least one Christmas here, as you get the best of the weather in December. The temperature can still climb to the early 30s in the middle of the day, but you get cool mornings and evenings, and usually the mercury doesn't trouble 25C too much, which is basically a fine British summer day. We get rain, we get breezes, we get grey clouds, we go out in summer clothes with a light scarf or cardigan, rather than several layers. Although the longer we live here, the harder temperatures below 15C are to cope with.
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| DB1 with recycled cardboard box reindeers at school. They had a sustainable-themed Christmas this year. |
I thought about the perception that Christmas wouldn't be allowed when I was dropping DB1 off at school on the day of her end of term party and I saw another mum, who was wearing hijab, dropping off her two sons, who were wearing Santa hats. DB1's last week at school was packed with Christmas stuff; letters to Santa, festive games, party clothes, treats, an optional church service in the neighbouring church and so on, and she has also been to visit Santa to tell him what she wants for Christmas.
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| The Wafi Mall Santa. One of the best places in Dubai to meet him. |
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| DB1's first Christmas in 2015 |
All in all, there is no way in which I feel I have to be quiet about Christmas, or not tell people I am celebrating. Me and my quaint little winter festival ways are more than accepted here, which makes what has been happening in my dear old homeland, and the talk of growing intolerance there over the past few years, all the more sad. I'm not going to get into Brexit, except to say that I think most of us Remainers have learned our lesson about boiling the Leave vote down to the single issue of immigration by now, and believe me, this country should be the last place to throw stones about such things, as there is racism in its most virulent forms here, but what I suppose I am saying is that although I am far from home in a dusty, hot, overheated climate, I am allowed to feel at home here, and that is something I am so, so grateful for, particularly when you consider how many people are displaced in the world right now.
So, what are we doing for Christmas this year? Well, this year, after being bitten on the boobs by a baby for the substantial part of the night, and having her sit on my head from about 2-4am saying "bah", I will be woken probably around 5am by a ridiculously over-excited four year old who will open her stocking presents on our bed as Him Indoors and I blearily open some baby snacks and a tangerine (DB2's favourite food) so the baby can play with the wrapping paper and suck on tangerine segments.
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| Festive brunch at Emirates Golf Club pre-kids. Feels like a lifetime ago. Me (wearing red sunglasses) and Him Indoors (purple hat). Pic courtesy of the amazing Rebecca Milford-Tromans. Not sure who the strange bloke is in the foreground... |
It will be a late lunch, probably around 4, as the day will be punctuated with DB1 being taken to the park outside our building to play with toys and try to burn off some of the chocolate-based energy, and then we will probably collapse in front of the Muppet Christmas Carol after dinner, and then hopefully put the kids to bed, and then I will most likely be asleep by around 8pm in front of another festive film, which I will see about the first 10 minutes of before I pass out.
Other options for Christmas Day are a festive brunch - which can be a tremendous fun, we went to a fantastic one with friends one year pre-kids, and it was the most decadent thing, eating roast turkey in the sunshine soaked in fizz and listening to the band playing Christmas music. But perhaps not so much with kids, as even the family-friendly ones tend to be super overcrowded and the food therefore somewhat less than top notch, which you don't notice when you are a bottle or two of fizz down, but seems less forgiveable when you have festive-hyped children in tow.
Or, there's that ultimate Dubai trick, getting a takeaway turkey delivered to your door, which sounds hopelessly overindulgent, but honestly, by the time you factor in the cost of all your imported ingredients, it is no more expensive than cooking for yourself.
I know it has been a rough year politically for my homeland, after three previous rough ones, so I think a lot of you will be feeling happy to say goodbye to 2019. Whatever you are doing, and where ever you are doing it, including those of you who are on the other side of what currently appears to be an unassailable divide, I wish you a Happy Winterval! I am joking, of course. Merry Christmas, you bunch of lovely b**tards.
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