Walking over to grandmothers house for Christmas lunch.
It’s supposedly Christmas. I still havn’t, after much effort, managed to round up any Christmas spirit. So from now on, to H*ll with it. Spent tonight having dinner at a South African Christmas party. It was different. Enough said about Christmas. On our way home I sat in the front seat! Felt like home again. (It is the small things that matter!) The cab-driver thaugt me some useful words/phrases in arabic. (The spelling is probably completely off, so don’t bother correcting it. Just say it out loud.)
Due to my skin-color and “difficult-to-place” ethinc background, everyone here thinks I’m Saudi. An assumption which have led to some awkward moments. Among other things elderly women are constantly trying to make me cover my face, which Saudi women are oblidged to do by law. I, not speaking Arabic, are having difficulties to fend them off. Now, however I’ve learnt how to deal with them. “Mafii Maloom” – I do not understand. “(S?)Halas!” – Stop, it’s enough!. At the moment I feel pretty pleased with myself and my new knowledge.
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;”
Spent the day before Christmas having “high tea” at the Globe, again the contrast are striking. This oasis of luxury on top of the world in Riyadh. (I’m actually wearing a very nice dress under my Abaya.)