I woke the earliest I have on a Christmas Day since I was a small child. However, it was a wake up call from my frequently unfaithful bowel opposed to the excitement that used to be that got me out of bed. A lot of the day seemed pretty ordinary except for a few small differences.
At home in the UK my family stock up on Shloer and alcohol, use the posh china, lay the special tablecloth and all eat together. Here I was presented with a can of Fanta and two bottled ciders. I sat watching TV with the children (wearing their new shoes and clothes) for about 10 minutes before being told to eat. Rather than posh china and smart tablecloths the special treatment was actually having china and a tablecloth. AM was with his biological family and so I sat alone, but being Christmas I insisted the children ate with me and not outside in the sand.
The meal was larger and had more variety than usual; spaghetti, rice, onions, tomato soup sauce, mayonnaise and two pieces of chicken.
For the rest of the day I walked around Ndama with the youngsters. At one point I was sent with money to buy a bottle of wine and join some people to drink it in a small metallic hut. Later I caught up with an outdoor party. Music, dancing and more wine. By 5pm my summery Christmas, wine and dodgy stomach put me to bed for around 3 hours. When I woke up again I was presented with more fizzy drinks and cider. The constantly slightly bloated, sicky feeling reminded me of Christmas at home, just lacking the compulsory family boardgames.
The young lads would 'taste' the drinks and on 'family day' - as they call boxing day here, though the idea behind the name remains about the same - one boy, Mervin, smirked and said, reminiscing about the day before and shaking his head, "Us and those beers yesterday..."
No comments:
Post a Comment